With the wall behind them back to normal, the tunnel was very dark and it was very hard to see anything without the use of other senses, the Force, or, in the case of Demonakos, magic. “How much further do you have to dig?” He asked the Jedi. A couple of the younger children were whimpering, which annoyed him, but he fought the urge to snap at them.

“A couple of feet.” The Jedi replied. “We should be able to get through it quickly, but where do we go after that and I’m sure the Empire has patrols scanning the outskirts of the city.”

“One thing at a time.” Demonakos grumbled. “I’ll take care of the rest of the digging.”

He could tell the Jedi looked at him skeptically, not because she thought he couldn’t do it, but because she doubted how he could ‘get’ to the end of the tunnel as it was very cramped. He showed her just ‘how’ by releasing most of his form into it’s most basic form, which looked like a thick cloud of black smoke. Demonakos passed around the Jedi and children with ease, some of them shivering from the ‘cold’ as he brushed by them.

The Lord of Chaos didn’t reshape himself once he reached the end of the tunnel. Instead he willed his essence into the wall itself, using it to force away the remaining dirt and stone to open the tunnel to the night air outside. A couple of the children ‘oooed’ at the feat. Ignoring them, Demonakos carefully searched the immediate area with his senses and found only a couple of distant patrols. If they moved quickly they should escape without notice.

“Alright, down the slope, quickly but carefully.” He said as he eased himself down the slope until it tapered out to almost flat ground. While he was waiting for the Jedi to climb down, he assumed another shape. Instead of the winged multi-limbed creature he usually took shape in, this new shape was very long with only four short limbs, almost like a legged snake but with a line of dark grey fur running down the middle of his back: he kept the same head though, so the Jedi would know it was him.

“How many shapes can you take form in?” The Jedi asked, curiously as she insured the last of the children were safely brought down.

“Almost as many as I want.” Demonakos said with a grin. “Though since I’m not on my home plane, the size of the things I can assume is much more limited. Now, get on board. This will be much faster then going on foot.” He hated the thought of being a ‘taxi’ but for the sake of the balance of the galaxy he told himself to suck it up.

It took a few painfully long minutes for all the children and the Jedi herself to climb aboard. Once they were, Demonakos muttered a few spells to hide them from sight and to mask their heat from infrared scans. Once that was done he took off, his long body undulating in the air as he flew low to the ground: not just because it would help avoid detection better, but because he wasn’t used to carrying such much weight on him.

If any of them get sick on me…I’ll kill them…. He thought as the landscape flew by them, the amount of pride he was willing to lose by helping them was fast reaching it’s limit. The things I do….to ensure my own rule in the future….

Zark had anticipated the counter to his attack. The Sith was much too experienced to be overtaken by a single Spark of the Lightside, even one from a Jedi as powerful in the Force as Zark was. Even the method of his counter and the result did not come as much of a surprise to the Jedi. It was a trademark Sith technique, to use both a Jedi’s own power and the environment against him. But there was one thing Zark had not expected him.

He had been about to move out from under the radius of the roof that the Sith would, at any second, be launching in his direction, when a wave of the Force hit him and caused him to lose balance. It had pulsed out from the direction of Jedi Temple. All of the sudden, his mind exploded in mental anguish as the screams of what seemed like a thousand distant voices flooded into his thoughts.

PROTECT US PROTECT US PROTECT PROTECT PROTECT.

BECOME WHO YOU WERE MEANT TO BE.

SAVE THE TEMPLE. SAVE THE JEDI. SAVE THE ORDER. SAVE YOURSELF.

THEREISNOEMOTIONTHEREISPEACE THEREISNOIGNORANCETHEREISKNOWLEDGE THEREISNOPASSIONTHEREISSERENITY THEREISNOCHAOSTHEREISHARMONY THEREISNODEATH THERE IS THE FORCE.

And then, everything stopped.

The Sith had thrown the Temple roof at him, and then that stopped too. In a wave moving outward, everything froze. The trees stopped swaying, the birds stopped chirping. Off in the distance, the lights of the city of Theed froze in mid-twinkle. As Zark looked up at the sun, he noticed with no small amount of nervousness that it was eerily still.

In front of him, the lingering aura of the Darkside had frozen in mid dissipation around his Sith adversary. His expression was frozen in mid snarl. Turning, Zark stared back at the Temple. He wasn’t sure how he knew, as the structure was unmoving, but something told him that the Temple itself was not frozen. Water still dripped, tattered curtains still fluttered in the wind, and the Force still flowed freely through its halls.

As he turned back toward the Sith, Zark reeled back in surprise. Blocking his view of his adversary was…something impossible to fully describe. It had a form, if not a very distinct one, that was very hard to see, for light flowed out from it that was not blinding but overwhelmed the senses of sight regardless. Tendrils of white light flowed out from the central…something…and constantly pulsed, as if possessing a heartbeat.

It was…breathtaking.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice asked from behind him.

Zark whirled around to come face to face with a man he had never actually met before in his life. A man he had only ever seen once, from a distance. Standing behind him, a man whose face was known to nearly every being in the galaxy, and whose name was legendary, stared ahead at the creature of light, and smiled.

“Master Skywalker?” Zark hazarded.

“Hmm, yes? Oh.” Luke chuckled to himself, “I’m sorry. Yes, it’s me…and not me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t?” the famous Jedi Master quirked his brow, “Understandable. You are…or rather were…just in the middle of a duel to the death. Still, you must learn to keep your mind open at all times, Arix. Even in the middle of battle.”

“You’re another manifestation, aren’t you?” Zark began to understand, “Like Master Solo and Master Jiren.”

“There, you see? There’s hope for you as a Jedi Master yet,” Luke chuckled again. It was a calming sound, “Now, let’s try another. What is it?” the Jedi Master gestured at the creature of light.

“It’s…it’s…incredible.” Zark muttered, almost to himself.

“Very true!” Luke laughed, “But what is it exactly?”

Zark stared at it for a long moment. All around him, everything was still frozen. Behind the creature of light, the Sith Lord still snarled. The roof hovered not far above his head. Only he, Luke, and the creature moved.

“It is what spoke to me earlier,” Zark said, “The thousands of voices in my head. It was trying to tell me something.”

“Also true,” Luke nodded in admission, “Dig deeper, Arix. You know the answer. Do not let rationality clog your vision. When it comes to the Force, anything is possible.”

“It is…”

Zark let go of his deductive reasoning, fell back into the corner of his mind where the Force lurked. He touched everything around him. There was the Sith’s signature…strong but now faint, as if he was far away. There was Luke’s…even stronger, but somehow different from a normal signature. Understandable, as it wasn’t exactly the real Luke Skywalker standing next to him. His mind touched the creature, and he flinched. It was incredibly powerful…incredibly strong…and it was the Lightest signature he had ever felt.

It also reminded him of something…but what? He opened his mind even further…and felt…he gasped aloud.

“No…”

“Why not?” Luke asked.

“That’s not-”

“Possible?” the Jedi Master asked, “After all you’ve been through, do you truly believe that?”

“But it can’t be…” Zark began, and then hesitated, “Can it?”

Zark turned around, and looked at the Temple.

“Can it truly be the Temple?” Zark asked no one but himself, “A building?”

“It is much more than a building, Arix,” Luke said, catching his gaze, “Jedi have resided within the Temple of Naboo for many years. It is not a building but a monument to the Lightside. Is it so unreasonable that, over time, it would develop into an entity of the Force?”

“When Searthen told me to protect the Temple…” Zark trailed off.

“Exactly,” Luke nodded, beaming as if Zark were a pupil who had just grasped a concept, “He wasn’t just telling you to fight back against the Sith. He meant it. This building has stood for many years as a bastion of Light in the galaxy. We cannot afford to lose that, especially now of all times, when all other Light has faded.”

“But how else can I protect the Temple? The Sith threaten its survival, and I fight the Sith.”

“As I said before, the Temple has been a focal point for the Lightside for many years,” Luke turned away from the spiritual embodiment of the Temple, and back toward the actual Temple itself, “It will take more than a few Sith Lords to purge such a footprint. Lupercus Darksword is egomaniacal, but he is not particularly stupid. He knows this.

The Sith’s influence on the Temple building are no threat. But their practical methods, on the other hand, are. If the Temple building is razed, the power of the Lightside in this place will be greatly diminished. You must prevent that from happening while the Sith walk on Naboo.”

“Even after the Sith leave, the Empire will still be in control of the planet,” Zark interjected, “What’s to stop them from leveling it?”

“Imperials are much more…practical than their Sith overlords, Arix,” Luke explained, turning back around and staring off at distant Theed, “Particularly the man in charge of this invasion fleet. They will not burn a structure they don’t have to in order to ensure ‘peace’ or, better put, submission.

The Jedi Order has been disbanded, and the Jedi Temple is now no longer a symbol for the Jedi, but a ruin. Or at least, that’s what the Imperials line of thinking will be. The Sith will know better, but they’ll be so concerned with hunting the remaining Jedi…hunting you, that they won’t bother to…‘reeducate’ the Empire.”

“So I’m to serve as a distraction?” Zark asked.

“If thinking of it so crudely helps,” Luke turned to regard him, and Zark was nearly dropped to his knees by the intensity of that stare, “Arix, this is your trial. After today, you will be a Jedi Master. Rationalizing and simplifying might be acceptable practices as a Jedi Knight, but soon you won’t have the luxury. You are about to step into a world of philosophy, of reflections and introspections that could very well decide the fate of the galaxy. You are about to enter a world where nothing…nothing will ever be put into layman’s terms.

Everything will be vaguer and more direct. Everything will come out of your mouth as riddles, and for the first time you will understand them and wonder at why it was so difficult to grasp concepts before. You will have to look before you leap, ask questions before you shoot, and think for what may seem like an eternity before you open your mouth.

When this is over, you will be done asking questions of people like me and having us help you to realize that you knew the answer all along. You will know the answer, or people will die…needlessly. There will be no more Master Skywalker or Master Solo to ask questions of. You will enter a world where all of the questions you don’t know the answer to are as much a mystery to the rest of us.

Arix Askrima, after today you will be my equal.”

“Master Skywalker?” Zark managed, after a few moments.

“Call me Luke,” winked the man, and his eyes sparkled.

“You keep calling me Arix…” Zark began, “Why?”

Luke laughed.

“Even after the lecture, you still ask questions!” but he was smiling, “That is good. Looming responsibility has not dulled your desire to learn, your curiosity. I suppose you are not quite a Jedi Master yet, are you? Very well, I will answer this one last question.”

“Thank you, Maste-Luke.”

“You’re facing an existential crisis, Arix,” Luke explained, “Ahead of you looms two paths, but one isn’t Light and the other isn’t Dark, specifically. Both have the potential to be. Such is always the peril of the Jedi. But they are not polar opposites. On one path you are Zark Ekan…and on the other, Arix Askrima.

You will not be able to call yourself both forever. Even you know this. Soon, people will ask you if you are the Jedi Master Zark Ekan or the Jedi Master Arix Askrima…and what will you say? Will you tell them ‘I am Arix Askrima, as I was born. I reject the ways of my parents, and embrace the Light.’? Or will you tell them ‘I am Zark Ekan, the man I grew up as. He is all that I have known for all my life, and he is a Jedi.’?

I call you Arix, not because I prefer one identity over the other, but to remind you of this question and to remind you that you must, inevitably, give an answer. You are so used to everyone calling you Zark, you must remember that right now you are also Arix. One name…one identity…must fade. Which will it be? You don’t have to answer now, of course. But some day…”

There was a sudden pulse of light from the direction of the Temple embodiment. The glow had intensified, but now it was slowly fading. Luke walked toward it, slowly descending the steps until he was but a few meters away. He turned back toward Zark, and winked one last time.

“Goodbye, Arix!” he gave a wave, “May the Force be with you!”

“Luke!” Zark called, causing the Jedi to pause, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Maybe we’ll meet again someday! Only this time, it might actually be me.” he chuckled, “Think fast and look up, Arix.”

“What?” Zark called, not understanding.

But the Jedi Master was gone, and so was the Temple embodiment. It took Zark a half second to realize what had just happened, and when he did his eyes widened. He snapped his head up and, sure enough, the Temple roof was no longer frozen in place but flying, quite quickly, in his direction. Everything had started again, and not a second of real time had passed throughout the entire confrontation.

Almost reflexively, his hands shot up in the air, palms upward, and the Force pulsed all around him. Dust and dirt billowed around his feet, disturbed by the vibrations of the energy he had called upon. He drew completely upon the Force, putting every bit of his power into it. It would have been much easier if all he had wanted to do was to push the debris away from hitting him, but that was not what he was doing…not what he had to do.

The section of the roof that the Sith Lord had dislodged and hurled at him came to a stop in mid air…all of it. Light pulsed all around Zark’s body, a blue and white glow outlining his figure. His pupil less eyes once more flared with the same white light, as he pushed himself to his absolute limit. Slowly but steadily, the crumbling roof began to reconstruct itself. Pieces of stone slid back together and solidified into larger pieces.

Zark was dimly aware of the Sith Lord moving past him, but his concentration was so wholly focused on the reformation of the Temple roof that he couldn’t even look at the man. Perhaps he had found some sadistic pleasure in watching Zark desperately attempt to put the pieces back together, assuming that the Jedi would fail. Perhaps he was in too much of a hurry to bother with him anymore and, seeing the Jedi occupied, had chosen the time to slip by him. Zark couldn’t think of that at the moment.

He wanted to finish the duel, to keep the Sith from tainting the Temple, however insignificantly, with his presence. But he knew he could not. He had to fix the roof. He faltered slightly; the strain was getting to be too much. The roof feel a few centimeters, not a mere half a meter from his upraised palms.

“Can’t…hold on…” he gasped to himself.

Yes you can. Was it Luke? Gash? Leia? He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t even speak anymore.

He just shook his head, sweat rolling down his face.

Search deep inside yourself. Yes you can.

A wave of peace washed over him, and he realized that the voice hadn’t been lying. He found, somehow, extra strength somewhere deep inside him. The roof was now whole. Slowly, it floated back toward the Temple itself, and reintegrated itself into the building.

Gasping, Zark dropped his arms to his sides and collapsed onto the Temple stairway. Consciousness dimmed, then faded, and as he slipped into oblivion he heard a voice from far away…a thousand voices all at once.

Thank you.

Camiron moved as quietly as he could through the corridors that had once been the home of the Master's that had come before his own. He could sense the light that made a not so subtle attempt to mask the true power that belonged here. He knew his purpose here and so he had only engaged another when it was necessary to do so. Unfortunately for the decoys he had come across he had become impatient by the time he reached them. Dispatching them had been easy.

Feeling emboldened by the rush the kill gave him, Cam decided to use some of the power he had just earned to mask his presence. It would not be fool proof but it might be of value. He after all was not here to fight. He was here to take what was rightfully theirs. For too long the Jedi had used this place. No more would they desecrate the sanctity of what was and always would be Sith. Reaching out with the force he could feel his Master now.

Not only that but he could sense some lightsiders approaching Vicirus. He smiled, though he would have enjoyed testing himself against the pair of Jedi he had reached his destination. He knew that his Master would find them an easy threat to deal with, he was not needed in that battle. Dipping his head to eye the keypad and using the code he had gained from one of the decoys after slicing off his right hand proved to be good. It surprised him, he would have lied.

~Master...I am in position.~

Looking back over his shoulder beneath the dark cloak Camiron made an attempt to notify his Master that he was in place. It would not take him long now. Shortly afterward he felt the intermingled joys of knowing that he would not only not leave empty handed but that he had found something valuable. He found what he was looking for and placed the items securely inside his cloak. He looked around the room, suddenly feeling an oppressive feeling that the light was growing all around him.

He grounded himself sensing that while the light was growing it was not focused on him. The battle was raging above him, an image of the roof being torn away filled his mind and he smiled as he tucked the holocrons into his bag. They were joined by some holo-texts and a few bound volumes. One of them in particular was touched strongly with a sense of the Force. He reached out in an effort to see if there was anything else here that he should take.

Something in the corner caught his attention as he ran through the archives lighting fires that would destroy what he could not take. He reached the item and placed it with all else he had taken. Not willing to chance being overburdened should he have been discovered, Camiron lit a final fire and moved to the door. It would not open. Snarling in disgust he looked for another way out. He could feel the anger growing within him.

He was aware of the growing smoke beginning to billow upward from the now ruined artifacts. He took out his saber and ignited it. Jamming it into the keypad he grunted in frustration as nothing happened. Unwilling to lose in this, Camiron was strengthened by the idea that his presence in this very room while not a devastating final blow to the Jedi was at least akin to marking territory for the Sith. He attacked the door but nothing happened until his frustration grew to the level that his natural connection to the force aided him ways he could not yet master on his own. He lifted his hand and began to push against the door. He was able to move a body or small object fairly easily now, but this door was proving difficult for some reason. He didn't connect the weakness with his present location.

Reaching out for the dark power that was always present within and around him now, Cam pushed again and the door crack, large fissures forming in angry jagged lines that perfectly matched his mood. Gathering up more strength, he gave the door a final defiant push and walked through it. He ignored the strain it had put on him. He had to meet his Master now.

~It is done.~

The pelting rain that peppered his face was frigid to say the least, lending itself to the already grim atmosphere that had befallen the small planetoid. While its presence not completely uncommon during this time of the year on Naboo, it still posed quite an obstacle to overcome in light of the full on assault the temple was just beginning to undertake.

However, despite his initial hesitation to completely envelope himself in the fight, Marek decided it was time to go a few rounds with the impending scourge. At first, he was troubled by the news Grawbo had given him, he thought it best perhaps to wait out the ordeal until he could make sense of what was happening. But little time was afforded for the endeavor, especially after his legs were knocked out from beneath him by the tremendous shockwaves ripping through the force. This would further be compounded by the screams of the dying and those who most certainly would follow suit soon after.

"Master Zolar!" The elderly man exclaimed with great fear.

Marek began pushing himself back up into a standing position, "Yes Grawbo."

"Master Zolar are you okay?"

"I'm fine Grawbo."

"But Master..." Grawbo was quickly cut off by the now upright Jedi

"Grawbo, I'm fine. Listen to me. Are you listening?" he asked grabbing the smaller gentleman by his shoulders. "I'm going into the city." The elderly man tried to squirm free and protest the decision. "Grawbo listen to me, I have to go. There is great danger there and I fear something very terrible is happening." Marek paused momentarily looking over his own shoulder in the direction of the city then corrected himself. "No, I know something terrible is happening and for me to wait around here and not act when I can be helping to stop it. Well, why even call myself a student of the force or a protector of the innocent?" I must go.

"But Master Zolar, who will save us if you fail?" Grawbo had a point.

Marek looked at the man intently and tried at least, in his mind to soothe the poor mans nerves.

"Grawbo, I don't think they'll be making their way out this far for a while, if at all. However, if you don't hear from me in two days, then gather the surrounding villagers and head further north to the next township. It should provide a relatively safe haven."

"But Master Zolar, what if you’re killed?"

Marek let a long sigh drain from his lungs has he hung his head in response to Grawbo's question. "Well Grawbo, than I will have at least died protecting that which is most relative. That which is most necessary." With that, he turned from the elder, releasing him from his firm grip. "Take Care of yourself Grawbo; you've been a good friend."

Quite stunned by the proclamation, Grawbo could barely speak the words"...goodbye... Master... Zolar"

So with an air of reckless endangerment, along with an overwhelming feeling of responsibility to the order and all that it had once stood for and at least to him still did, Zolar confiscated one of the homesteads derelict speeders and blasted into the direction of Theed. Making haste towards his destination, using one hand to maneuver the craft and tightly clutching the hilt of his light saber with the other, he knew full well he’d soon find himself face to face with destiny once again.

As was sometimes the case, Cam's mood darkened with each footfall. He had never stepped within these walls but he found them strangely familiar. Maybe he had once studied this place from one of the many volumes in the temple that had become his current and only true home. He had always trusted that his emotions and instincts were dead on. This moment was one such instance.

He was on the brink of a precipice in his training. He was no longer a boy but not yet a knight. He was an apprentice and like many who had come before him he was hoping for the day when he might enjoy the knowledge that one stronger than he, a Master, could offer him. He was tired of fighting with those of his own skill level. He wanted more.

The corridor widened up ahead of him as he reached a more public floor. There was a quiet stillness about this place. It might have chilled a visitor to the abandoned temple but not the young apprentice. For him, this was just the earliest of steps in a wider, greater goal. And while he did not understand all of it yet, he trusted those above him with the knowledge that soon the Sith would rise.

Turning again, starting to quicken his pace, Camiron caught sight of the city stretched out beyond a wide panoramic window. He paused, taking a moment to look upon the place he had spent so many of his early years. Years he could only partially recall now.

He had often tried to reach out and sense his birth father when he was a boy. A practice he had grown out of, literally as he became more and more seduced by the dark power that was so much a part of his life now. So much so that he could not see life without it.

For a brief moment his eyes caught the profile of a building in the long shadows of the sun. His mind took him back to a time when Naboo had been his home. A time when he had once thought joy and happiness were important.

Twelve years prior...

A boy running through the streets. A piece of carved wood in his hand as he chased down one of his friends. The boy in front of him, a red headed, freckled face kid named Slarin, tripped and actually flew through the air as he attempted to race down a short set of steps leading into one of the many markets.

For a moment, Cam had stood transfixed there in the middle of the street. But the red headed boy had not been what held his attention. It was the duo now moving through the market parting the crowd like the red molten seas of Mustafar must have moaned and hissed as Darth Vadar had raced toward his fate. Dark cloaks hid the men's features, but Camiron knew without a doubt that they were men simply by the proud strength that he could literally feel coming off them.

He felt a chill, and a hint of excitement run down his spine as a brief flash of force tainted eyes peeked out from beneath the hood on the right. He didn't know why but he was sure that they had come for him. He felt drawn to them, though he did not know why.

The tow headed boy looked up at the tall figures now upon him and opened his mouth to speak, "What do you want?"

A hand from one of the men made a light spinning gesture and Camiron turned around to now walk with them. Chin down, a frown on his face as the power touched him, Cam looked over at the large hand as it gripped his shoulder. Some part of him accepted the harsh embrace as they moved through the streets toward his home.

An image of his step-mother's eyes as they teared up flashed across his mind and he brushed it aside just as quickly as it came.

Now...

Camiron blinked once, pushing the memory into a place where he could draw upon it's emotion when he would need it one day. He turned from the window and continued along the hall toward the Sith Master he had taken the bounty for. He was expecting anger in the wake of what was now lost. But that did not bother him, he would use that anger to grow stronger. It was his duty to do so, after all.

The Jedi strained to reconstruct the temple roof, the Force flowing out of him with the effort like water from a sieve. The effort had to be strenuous, but onward Zark tried, pulling the pieces slowly back into one. Vicirus didn’t wish to waste the time he had available, and rushing forward he sought to impale the Jedi with his lightsaber in passing… yet, as he closed within less than a matter of feet, the Sith changed his initial plan. Something was different; Vicirus could sense it now in the air, as though the Force had been bolstered in the area, somehow recharged and filled with an almost physical weight in presence…

The Sith would ponder on the fact at a later time.

Moving beyond the Jedi, Vicirus decided to leave the meddlesome human to his devices, where there remained the prospect of another encounter when time wasn’t in haste. Already the Sith Master could sense the other Sith getting closer, and it wouldn’t be long before they were upon the temple; and by that time, Vicirus and his few Apprentices were to be gone.

Reaching the entrance to the Jedi temple, Vicirus knew that his Apprentice had done his task completely. Lupercus and his fledglings wished to attain the secrets of the Jedi for themselves, more than likely in the attempt to secure that another Jedi order would remain stunted if it tried to form; but the fact remained that Vicirus had ordered the damage done already, and he had tasked Camiron with destroying as much of the information as possible – while procuring a number of specifically selected items in the process.

Stepping into the hall, Vicirus heard the Apprentice’s mental words, informing of a job done. It wasn’t a surprise; the boy was capable, and he would serve as an excellent member of the Sith with further training. Needless to say, the rush caused by the oncoming forces beyond the temple necessitated for Vicirus to move, instead of pondering and taking his time – of which he had little.

Coming to a stop from his fast pace, the Sith Master caught sight of Camiron. Motioning to the Apprentice, the shadow passed the boy, beckoning him to follow. “We must be away,” Vicirus said, his voice low as his blue eyes scanned the darkened hallways, his Force presence now withdrawn within himself. “Lupercus and his fools will soon arrive, and I am sure they will find the Jedi replacing the roof outside quite amusing… did you get what you were required?”

While the Apprentice might not know exactly what he had gathered, the fact was that Vicirus wanted to ensure a few securities of his own…

Camiron's lips curved slightly when he saw Darth Vicirus approaching. Even though the other was even now withdrawing his great and potent presence into himself, the Apprentice was reassured and even comforted by his closeness. The lure of the Master was like a beacon to the boy, telling him that he was indeed upon the right path. He was aware of the fact that his fate was tied to that of his Masters and he welcomed that knowledge. The boy bowed his head forward before the other spoke.

“We must be away,” Vicirus said.

Camiron could sense the need to move and so he took the necessary steps to fall in line with the other. The boy thought of asking the Master about the Force energy he'd felt earlier. The oppressive light had almost made it difficult to breathe and for a moment, Cam had felt a tinge of worry for their quest. That fear was gone now as he joined the shadow of power, his own cloak swaying in conjunction with the elder Sith. He had complete faith in Vicirus' abilities, even if he did not know his motivations for robbing the other Master of his prize here.

“Lupercus and his fools will soon arrive, and I am sure they will find the Jedi replacing the roof outside quite amusing… did you get what you were required?”

"Of course, Master," Camiron almost snapped but the will to do so was broken by the sound of amusement on his part as the Master mentioned the torn roof. He tried to hold his emotions in check but he was young and that was not always possible. In the moment that followed the disgruntled chuckle, Camiron found himself facing his pride head on. He did not intend to earn the other's wrath, especially not in the wake of his success but he was insulted that there would even be a question of whether he had succeeded. Of course he had done as commanded! Cam thought in a moment of defiance, I am no longer a boy.

"Do you wish to see the bounty now, Master?" Cam's eyes flashed with humor and something more as he forced himself to withdraw his own Force presence in a little closer. He enjoyed wearing the power like a second skin far too much to go so far as to disconnect himself but he did use Stealth to attempt to hide himself from the forces he felt conspiring against them. He turned his gold rimmed irises to the other and smirked as he spoke low, finally reigning in his presence more completely to better mask himself, "Master...I have taken what you asked for." His tone this time was more closely tied to his role here. Needless to say there was more reverence in his tone this time, "And a few items more."

The boy narrowed his gaze onto the hall before them. His eyes moved as fluidly as his feet, falling into a subconscious pattern he had learned in his many hours of combat with men like Vicirus and his fledgling peers. The youth held his hand upon the hilt of his weapon, ready to engage the enemy if necessary. In so many ways the boy was hoping for some challenge to present itself, aside from the honor of being able to fight along side the Master, he was still itching to do more than kill children and slaves.

Demonakos flew in an erratic pattern, both due to his nature and to shake off any possible pursuit: his senses told him that there was none thankfully. All the while he was scanning the country side, looking for a suitable location to hide his charges. Finally he found a place that was promising and headed for it.

After a short time he landed in front of a cave, but didn’t let the Jedi get off quite yet. He probed the cave system with his magic, searching for possible occupants and a water source. Demonakos found a water source and no current inhabitants: how clean the water wasn’t something he cared about. Only now did he allow the Jedi to dismount.

“There are no animals inside and there’s a spring within.” He told Katina. “Should be sufficient for the time being.”

“What about food?” Katina asked him as she helped the children off his back.

Demonakos shrugged like he didn’t care, which he didn’t. “Consider yourself lucky I bothered to find a place with water.” He replied, snarling faintly. Once the last child was off him, he reverted to his usual shape. “I would suggest you stay inside the cave until I return.” He told them. “I’ll cast an illusion on the entrance to make the cave ‘disappear’.”

“Where are you going?” The Jedi asked as she started to herd the children into the cave.

“Back to the city to see what other Jedi I can save…and to have a bit of fun with the invaders.” He grinned, resulting in every single one of his white teeth showing.

The Jedi frowned, but knew she couldn’t stop him and instead ushered the last of the children inside the cave before entering it herself. Once she was deep enough in, Demonakos cast two spells: one the illusion spell that would hide the entrance and a security ward that would alert him to outside forces approaching the cave. After that was done he carefully wiped away any tracks from the mortals and himself before taking off.

Once in the air he turned himself invisible, not wanting to risk a patrol tracking his flight path back to the cave. Now it was onward back to Theed….

"Shall we?"

Ithron nodded and stepped into his Master's wake. Ishara, he noticed, stood aside to let him pass. He smiled at that.

Already I'm being defered to. he thought. Better Apprentice to the powerful than brother to the weak.

Outside, Lupercus set about ordering detachments of Imperial troops. Most of the officers didn't seem to know whether Lupercus technically had the authority to give orders, but were smart enough to realise that refusing to do what he said could result in terminal demotion. Soon, men were hurrying this way and that.

Inquisition soldiers ran ahead now, clearing the way to the temple for the Sith. It was hardly neccessary - the area around the Imperial landing craft was deserted. A few of the braver and more curious civilians looked out.

No doubt at least one of them is relaying all of this to the Coalition.

Ithron pondered how many years had passed since he had last been here. He could still remember his initial Jedi Training under Master Cole Donovin. He remembered, as clearly as if it was yesterday, sparring with Namaarie. He let his mind wander, wondering where she was, wondering where in this godforsaken Galaxy her fate had taken her.

Suddenly his wandering mind fixed on something. In the direction of the temple, he could sense Force signatures. Some light, some dark, all of them energised and engaged in something. In a flash, Ithron realised that one of them felt eerily familiar - Vance. The prescence of his former Master made Ithron's blood run cold. The last time they had spoken had been before the Korriban mission - back on Xa Fel. It had been before Ithron had encountered Lupercus, before he had had his mind opened to new things.

Lupercus noticably quickened his pace, barking orders at the crack Inquisition escort. Had he detected Vance? They were headed to the main, ceremonial, entrance of the Jedi Temple, Ithron knew, but there were numerous smaller entrances to the institution. Lupercus appeared to have reached the same conclusion. Silently, he caught his Apprentices attention and pointed to the right.

Ithron nodded and walked in the direction Lupercus had sent him. The expression on his Master's face was haunting. It was as though he had the life force of ten men in him. His face radiated an eager anticipation of what was to come - an event of the kind Lupercus was famous for. An event in which Ithron was, today, to participate. A holocaust. A slaughter. A day to remember.

"You." Ithron hailed an Inquisition Lieutenant. "Come with me. Bring some men."

"Yes, Sir! Right away." Answered the young man, clipping to attention as years of Imperial Training had drilled into him. Ithron could feel his fear - the man had trained to fight the Jedi and their allies all his life, but this was clearly his first action. Come to that, Ithron could feel his own fear. Of Vance. Of the Jedi. Of Lupercus. Of Failure. The cycle started. Anger at the fear. Passion from the anger. Power from the passion.

Each time he felt this, he felt anew his contempt for the Jedi.

They go into battle as half a person. They leave behind their emotion. Their passion....they might as well be droids.... he mused.

Several hundred metres ahead of him, there was an almighty crack, as of crumbling stone. The younger soldiers flinched and looked skywards. The older ones gripped their weapons and pressed on. Behind him, Ithron could tell that Lupercus was nearing the main entrance of the temple. Ahead of him, Ithron reached out with the Force to see what was ahead. One Force signature was familiar.

"Vance." he whispered out loud. From what Ithron could tell though, Vance was moving somewhere - and was keen to get there. That could be the only explanation as to why he was moving away from a light signature.

A light signature, Ithron noted, that was curious.It wasn't as simple as the signature of any padawan he had met. It was certainly of some power, but precisely what it was, was hard to tell. However, it wasn't perfectly white as he remembered the signatures of the Jedi Masters to be.

Now is that because I was naive then, and couldn't spot the blemishes in the Force that even the noblest Jedi will leave? Or is this character something different?

"Sir?"

"Never mind, Lieutenant. I suggest you have your men ready their weapons. I believe there to be a Jedi ahead. Of course, I doubt they'll do you much good."

His hand ready to grasp the lightsaber that hung at his side, Ithron moved to the front of his squad and advanced, the men behind him covering his flanks.

Without the Force, they're as blind as they are helpless....

He knew that the towers of the Temple would become visible as he rounded the next corner, and he was so familiar with their shape that he almost didn't notice the source of the sound earlier and the figure nearby.

They stood next to each other upon the staircase leading into the Temple itself, staring down at the unmoving body of the Jedi Knight. An enveloping silence permeated the air, casting a sort of auditory shadow upon the two specters who remained still with piercing gazes and eyes filled with an unending sort of knowledge. Were they figments of his imagination? Did he see things that weren’t really there, or did everyone else miss things that really were?

Regardless, they made an unlikely duo. On one side of the unconscious man, a deceased Searthen Jiren gazed down upon his former pupil. On the other, the eyes of the legendary Luke Skywalker regarded a man he had never truly met. For a long time, they stood there and said nothing. Finally, Luke broke his gaze, pausing to take a glance at a bird above, frozen in midflight, and then dropped his gaze back down to the ‘man’ across from him.

“He let the Sith escape,” the Jedi remarked.

“He saved the roof,” Searthen returned sharply, not taking his eyes away from the body.

“He let a Sith enter the Temple.” Luke’s voice remained ever calm, ever neutral.

“A Sith who will steal a few petty artifacts and make a run for it,” this time Searthen did bring his gaze up to bear against Skywalker’s, “You and I both know that Vance Jas is no more threat to the Temple. Lupercus Darksword, on the other hand…”

“Do you really think he can stand up to Lupercus Darksword?” his tone taking an almost condescending nature.

“I think he will do everything in his power to make sure that the essence of this Temple remains intact,” Searthen growled, “And yeah, I think he could take Lupercus.”

“But we both know its not just Lupercus he’ll have to contend with before this day is done,” Luke said, glancing down at the unconscious shape, “Why do you have so much faith in him, Searthen?”

“The Force is a pendulum, Luke,” Searthen’s voice lost its edge, and the Jedi Masters stared each other in the eye as he spoke, “You should know that more than anyone. You set events into motion that sent it swinging into the Light. Your father before you, and Palpatine, sent it swinging into the Dark. Endgame did the same. It is just about time, now, for the pendulum to swing back. Don’t you think?”

“And you believe him to be the one?” Luke asked, “The one who finally does it?”

“I think…that the Force is a pendulum not only on a galactic scale, but in the life of every sentient being,” Searthen broke their gaze at last, staring down at the Jedi underneath him, “And its about time that the pendulum swung back into the Light for Zark Ekan. And you and I both know what that kind of redemption can do for a man…can do for the galaxy.”

“If he strays…”

“He won’t,” the Rogue Jedi smirked, “He’s our last hope. He won’t.”

“Very well,” Luke nodded. He looked down at Zark’s body, and smiled. His gaze slowly lifted up and out beyond the Temple, at Naboo, “Wake him.”

And with that, they were gone.



“Wake up, Zark…”

His eyes snapped open.

He crawled to his feet groggily, the exhaustion from saving the Temple roof almost gone. He awoke as if from a full night’s sleep, and the aches and pains that accompanied his consciousness were not of mental exhaustion but from the discomfort of the stairs. It took him a few moments to take stock of himself and remember fully what had happened.

When he had fully regained his senses, his eyes widened. The Sith!

He turned back toward the Temple to pursue his foe, but stopped. Not far off, soldiers approached, having just entered the sight of the Temple. He reached out with the Force. Amongst them, a Force sensitive. It was…not a Knight…but not an Apprentice at the same time. The Sith was cresting, as Zark was.

He had little doubt of his capability to deal with the soldiers. The Sith, however, complicated things greatly. He turned back once more toward the Temple, his thoughts lingering on the Sith Master. But something…something within him told him that the Sith was no longer a concern of his. He knew, somehow, that his fight was with this almost-Knight.

He turned to face them fully and called out.

“Hold!” Zark yelled, not really expecting them to follow his command. He activated his lightsaber once more, “In the name of the Light, I command you! Come no closer! This is sacred ground, and you will not defile it!”