Darkness Falls

(I'm gonna go ahead and post this. If it's not time yet, I'll just take it off and save it... :-} So here goes... )

The cold stone halls of the Temple were dim, but bright enough to see clearly, though no lighting source could be identified, as if the walls glowed with their own light; their own life. It was a place of history, where brothers and sisters in the force had left their own mark on the very atmosphere of the hallowed ancient place. Perfect carvings, perfect statues, perfect cold. Everywhere, the walls were covered with the slight sparkle of ice crystals, catching light here and there; a very light layer of frost covering each inch of the sacred stone carvings.

Echoes of the past, whispers of the future, which was now the present; an ever changing flow of life, and a counter flow of death, which in its own image made time etch its own course on all living things. Time had brought the Jedi to this ice world, time had allowed this new threat to form; and time was one thing which these protectors of the light would find to only work against them. Time is cruel, time is unrelenting, though most of all, time is eternal; there was no stopping it.

Two piercing eyes scanned the carvings of the stone walls; eyes as cold looking as the air around them. Appreciative eyes, young eyes full of wonder at the accomplishments of those who preceded them. The intricate knot-work carvings, the massive statues of Jedi long past, all things which these particular eyes took notice of, and admired; the eyes of Gabriel Alaris.

A single cloth wrapped hand moved a strand of ember colored hair from those piercing blue eyes. His head was mostly covered by the fur lined cloak hood [as was his body], though two strands of long ember bands framed his young face; a face halfway wrapped, to protect against the cold. His hand found its way back into the long fur lined cloak sleeve where it had been moments before, keeping his digits warm; as time may prove to wear thin any moment and the need for a good grip may be necessary.

A small cloud of condensation puffed from under this wrapping and into the frigid atmosphere, as the young Jedi exhaled his warm breath. His eyes looked back toward the small group of Jedi he had signed up with; theBlades, as he was now calling himself a member of. The idea of sitting idly by, while the Galaxy around him was being engulfed in a cloud of darkness one planet at a time, didn’t sit well with the young knight; and so he joined this small group. Each a valuable ally, and each a person he was entrusting his life to, as they were him. Whatever may happen once they left this icicle of a planet, he would all he could to ensure those same Jedi felt their trust in him was well placed.

He was making his way back toward the group, each step allowing a light tap sound to emerge from the fall of each heel. His eyes scanned the faces of his fellow Blades, until they fell on a healer. Levin Caelum, he was called, he didn’t wear the traditional garb of a Jedi, no robes, though Gabriel sensed a deeper understanding hiding away in the interesting man.

Gabriel’s mind remained vigilant, as he paced the halls, constantly reaching out feeling the force for any change in flow. As far as he knew, he had only time to kill while those Jedi of the temple debated whether to join the fight; though anything was possible. With much irony, ‘anything’ was exactly what was about to happen. Gabriel stopped dead in his tracks as he felt the force fluctuate, his eyes snapped back to Levin as the young Jedi watched the healer react as though something had taken his breath.

“Jedi, come with me- darkness falls upon us!”

The words hit Gabriel’s ears as his eyes caught the quick movement from the shiny saber drop into the healer’s hand. Gabriel’s hands shot from his own cloak and summoned his sabers from their clips behind each hip and into his hands; not igniting them until he was given the ‘go ahead’, though he could feel a cold chill growing, causing his very skin to crawl.

”Be ready, Blades of the Order. The time is now to protect our brothers and sisters of the Jedi, keep your senses peeled, and your sabers ready, for this darkness shall not spare us if given the chance.”

Gabriel knew instantly of what darkness he spoke. He squared his shoulders and locked his jaw under the cloth wrappings. As quickly as the healer shot off Gabriel was on his trail, following him though the maze of halls twisting and turning, leading directly to a large courtyard. Admiring the courtyard would have to wait. Gabriel knew he was not the most attuned to the force, and sensing the changes within it, but even he felt this. He slowed to a walk as he neared the threshold to the courtyard.

His saber-filled hands found their way up to his hood, which he removed, slowly shrugging the cloak off from his shoulders; he focused briefly on the force to keep the cloak from hitting to snow covered ground. He focused on moving the cloak into the temple, and out of the way, as he felt the cold darkness growing. He allowed his focus to stray from his cloak and back onto attempting to sense the changed in the force; though no concentration was truly necessary. The force was a torrent of anger, a gale of hate, which was growing into a tsunami of darkness; transforming the very atmosphere into a violent attack on the senses.

Gabriel shook his head clearing it and allowing his focus to fall from the evil storm making its way toward them, and into his own mind, where he began meditating to calm his own emotions. This is unbelievable… The single thought flooded through his mind (in regards what the disturbance he was feeling) as he heard the hiss of a saber ignited, followed by the buzz-hiss of his twin sabers snapping to life. He felt a wave of calmness pass over him, which could no doubt be attributed to Levin’s subconscious message of vigilance. The young Jedi would remain vigilant, and do all he could do… wait.

"So, tell me again why we had to come here first, of all places?"

Such had been the tone of most of the conversation that had come from Locke Nemsee--to no one in particular--for the past half hour our so. He snorted as his stone grey eyes took in the area around the group, and a small puff of condensation came into being from his nostrils. The young Knight was a member of the group of Jedi who had decided to stand against the darkness that was encroaching into Republic space. He was a Blade. The thought still surprised him a bit, to be honest; it certainly wasn't the position he'd seen himself being in a few months ago, but times had changed, and necessity lead his path. But still, he'd made the choice to join--if he hadn't thought the cause worthy, he certainly wouldn't be here on Rhen Var.

"I mean, the intent is very noble and all that, but couldn't we start somewhere a little... oh I don't know, warmer?"

It wasn't as if he didn't understand the importance of the mission at hand. They'd come to try to recruit more to their cause, as they'd need as many sabers as they could rally to their cause to fight against the Sith. Certainly, it was something of dire importance, and it had to be done. But by the Force, he hated the cold! He'd even dressed to prepare for it, as he was in somewhat thicker robes that were still the usual sandy brown and cream color of his normal ones, and he wore gloves that were made of a thin-yet very insulating-material to keep his hands warm, and insulated boots. He even wore a hat that looked like an ushanka--flaps down to keep his ears warm--with the hood of his cloak up over it to keep his head warm. And he was still cold! Inside! The temple on Rhen Var was very pretty, but the whole scene was just kind of ruined by the fact that it felt like his toes were about to fall off in his boots.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he'd stop to stand before a statue of some old, more than likely dead Jedi. It was with a bit of surprise that he suddenly looked up to find the woman towering over him. "Honestly, you'd think the Order could invest in a proper heating system for the place," he said to her. "Especially since someone had the thought to build the damn place in the middle of a place that's practically stuck in a perpetual blizzard. But noooo, that wouldn't be spartan enough for the Jedi, would it?" Her response was silence, of course. Locke shook his head. There wasn't really use in complaining about anything, since it really wouldn't fix anything. His grey eyes turned to regard the other Jedi that were a few steps away. One of them would probably say something like that. And they can bite me if they have a problem with it. It wasn't as if he like complaining like a petulant child--though it could be amusing at times--, but he just had a way of saying what was on his mind. Those that knew him--as Jazen, his padawan, and Levin did--would know it was little more than idle chatter, but some of the others... He'd find out.

Or perhaps he wouldn't. A moment after he finished his one-way conversation with the statue, Lev rallied the Blades to him. Something was wrong. Darkness falls, he thought warily. "Who in their right mind would want to come here," he said loudly, trying to diffuse a bit of the tension that was rising amongst the Jedi. "Lead on Levin," he said with a nod to the Healer, "we'll take care of this problem, whatever it is. And then we'll make a nice, warm fire."

Locke fell in behind the others as they went out to the courtyard. He stayed his hand from moving to his blade or his pistol, choosing rather to project an image of calm; if something was indeed wrong, they'd need to keep their wits about them, and getting too tense too quickly could ruin that. But he was not stupid. Though he made no outward indication of it, he was alert, and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Locke reached to the Force with a bit of trepidation, as he could feel the darkness that was oozing in about them even before he reached out to take hold of the Force. He grimaced when he grasped the Force. It was different than anything he'd felt before. A stream of emotions--rage, hate, fear--all cycling so fast as to seem to blend into one ran through the Force. As if the Force itself exuded them. But that couldn't be. Could it?

"Be wary Jazen," he said to his padawan through the Force. "Something wicked is coming." The sound of igniting lightsabers filled the courtyard, and his hands itched to take hold of his own. But there was no need. Not yet. They were alone in the courtyard for the time being. So instead, he reached out with his senses, stretching his ability to its limits to try to find out what was going on. He just prayed they could find out before it was too late.

For a time, there was only silence.

It was a bit odd, really. But through it all, there was that ever present, ever growing sense of darkness falling in around them. Locke couldn't pin down exactly what it was though. He'd find out soon enough, though.

A quiet buzzing filled the courtyard, like the sound of some great cloud of bees miles away. Locke cocked his head in confusion at it, and looked to the skies as the sound grew louder. And the, everything made sense. It was the Sith.

They had come to Rhen Var.

Cries of surprise went up from some of the other Jedi in the courtyard, and Locke finally took his lightsaber hilt in his hand and ignited it, listening to the distinctive snap-hiss as the yellow-orange blade came alive. So soon, he thought has he watched the gunships and transports descend toward them. I'd not expected that they'd come so quickly... and why here? Yeah, there was the Jedi Temple on Rhen Var, but other than that, there was little value to the frozen world. Locke sighed. Regardless, they'd have to defend the world and fight off the Sith attack. But he had a sinking feeling their fight might become one of survival, more than repelling the onslaught.

Minutes that felt like hours passed, and the Sith arrived. A hole was blown into the side of the mountain, leaving a clear path for the Sith to make their way into the mid-level of the Temple. Right after that, Sith troops started landing near the courtyard, and the place became a scene of chaos as the battle began. But before Locke could do anything, he felt the ground beneath his feet actually shift. Well that couldn't possibly be a good thing, he thought in surprise as he looked down, and noted a crack spreading across the courtyard floor. And then it hit him.

"Fall back into the Temple," he shouted to his companions as he started to run back towards the building. A loud, low groaning noise started to sound as he ran, confirming what he'd feared. The Sith had ruined the integrity of the couryard with their bombings, and it wouldn't be long before it fell down to the layer below it. And anyone caught in that probably wouldn't survive it. So they'd have to fall back into the Temple and fight the Sith off from there.

And fight they would.

If the Sith thought they could just come and take the Temple, they'd be in for a rather rude awakening.

Di’Shan crouched in the open mouth of the transport, his dark robes whipping around him in the heavy winds kicked up as they descended toward the Temple. His fingers gripped the doorframe tightly as he balanced on his toes and watched their target come into view. It sat like a fortress against the side of the mountain, elegant and imposing, a jewel of Jedi engineering and it was almost a shame that the Sith were about to utterly destroy it. Almost. Behind him, Di’Shan was acutely aware of the presence of the other Sith. The Force surged and crackled around them with anticipation of the battle to come; interspersed among the lesser Force signatures of the troops their energy stood out sharply, like great black harbingers of doom among mortal men. He could sense their excitement, their bloodlust, and for some, their unfathomable rage at the knight protectors they knew they would soon encounter. For many, the Jedi were more than men, they were legends, and several of the troops shifted in nervousness at the idea of facing them. The Sith, however, were eager for it.

Di’Shan had to admit his own excitement at the idea though he didn’t share the same desperate hatred of them that many others did. Curiosity was more akin to what he was feeling at the moment. He’d never faced a Jedi, never even met one for that matter, and though he’d heard much about them, he wondered how much of it was really true. The Jedi professed that light was the only true course one could take and he had no doubts at all that those they were about to face would cut him down without a second thought if he let them, but this, in and of itself, was part of their folly in his opinion. They were fighting a war they could never win. The very nature of all beings was one of total dualism. Both light and dark, and no matter how they fought, there would always be evil in the world. Di’Shan smirked behind the heavy cloth covering his nose and mouth against the cold. He didn’t hate the Jedi. He LOVED them.

How many would he kill? How many innocent lives would he take? How many screams would he produce? He had lost count of how many innocents he had ruined in the past but the Jedi? They would remember. They would remember for him. They would count and take stock of every person he slaughtered. They would give the galaxy hope so that Di’Shan and the other Sith could take it away. They would defend the innocent and provide an unending line of delights for those of evil mind all in their fight to keep the light alive. And Di’Shan loved them for it. What good was a galaxy without hope? It would get boring quickly. No, Di’Shan needed there to always be at least one Jedi in the galaxy that would convince his future victims that they were safe all so Di’Shan could steal that hope away later.

He watched as the majority of their forces lowered to the base level of the Temple. They would work their way up from there. As for Di’Shan, his curiosity was such that he had signed on to attack the mid-levels and hold them until the other troops could reach them from below. He wanted to see the Jedi first hand, wanted to test them, to feel their presence in the Force and then, if the Force was with him, to snuff them out like candles in the darkness. He wasn’t arrogant enough to think he could take on all the Jedi alone, though, and so he was grateful for the powerful presences he could feel shift behind him as they neared the courtyard. As the snows cleared and their drop zone came into view, Di’Shan could make out the soft glow of several already lit lightsabers. Waves of determination and light rolled up at him from below. The Jedi were already there, already waiting. Oh, they did not disappoint.

The transport came into position above the courtyard and as soon as it paused to hover, troops began repelling out and down to the snow. The Temple was rocked by the explosions from below and Di’Shan noted with a sense of detachment that the ground had begun to split from the sudden bombings. A thin crack formed with a rumble beneath the very feet of the Jedi and in that moment a timer of sorts had started. The temple wouldn’t last long once all the fighting started in earnest; the Sith would need to move fast if they were to take ground and get out of the area before the whole building collapsed. Di’Shan glanced over his shoulder as the Sith troops filed past him, making eye contact with a few of his fellow Sith. His eyes crinkled into an eager smile before he turned on his heel and propelled himself out of the open door, calling the Force to himself to slow his descent.

He landed with a muted thump onto the snow covered crags that made up the walls of the courtyard and took in the scene below him. There was a small gaggle of Jedi already moving to take down the Sith troopers and blaster fire was erupting across the courtyard as the troops advanced. He heard one of the Jedi shout for a retreat into the Temple but he knew that couldn’t be from the small assault they’d just started. If they Jedi thought they were going to fall back that easily, they were in for a surprise. Di’Shan made note of the Jedi he could see so far. There was the one who had just spoken, a young broad shouldered man with handsome features, and…could it be? Di’Shan’s golden eyes narrowed as he made out the symbol etched into the arm of the man’s coat. A Jedi healer. It was as if someone had picked out a present just for Di’Shan. Not only was he getting to face off against Jedi for the first time, but there was a healer among them. If the Jedi themselves were keepers of light, then their healers were the keepers of the other Jedi. They protected the protectors. How touching.

The young Twi’lek made note of where his fellow Sith were landing and he knew better than to get between a dog and it’s dinner so he lined up the path that would put him in combat with the healer while keeping him out of the way of others. His lekku twitched in obvious excitement though their movement was restricted by the heavy black leather headpiece he wore to protect them in battle. It also served quite well to keep the cold off them. The rest of his attire was also suited to the climate and the battle to come. His black robes were thicker than normal and padded around his most vital areas but all of his joints were left free of padding in favor of maximum flexibility. He doubted anything he could wear would protect against a saber blade anyway so he wasn’t about to weigh himself down with a ton of useless armor.

Di’Shan lined himself up carefully, crouched on all fours like some nexu stalking its prey, his saber hilt gripped in one hand, and then with a powerful kick from his legs, he dove from the roof, hit the ground in a tight roll, popped to his feet, dodged and weaved around two Sith troops, dove into a roll to his left and skidded back to his feet only a meter away from the Jedi healer. Even with his nose and mouth covered, it was easy enough to see the expression of curious glee that was painted on his face. The healer looked to be human but his bright eyes belied a heritage that Di’Shan couldn’t quite place. As Di’Shan righted himself to his full height, he stood a few inches taller than the man he now faced and his frame, lean as it was, was still larger by comparison. His double bladed saber hissed to life, first the right, then the left blade snapping out and throwing a soft red glow across the white snow all around them.

“May I have the pleasure?” he hissed in a tone of voice that held a note of vile pleasure to it, as if he could project every horrible thing he wanted to do to the Jedi into those few words.

Tremors shook the ground at steady intervals, and the earth shuddered in revulsion. Pounding footsteps of the towering beast. Its claws slashed in arcing destruction, driven on ion engines, while poison sprayed outward in laser flashes of red and green. The massive body roiled and bent, built upon the ash-black smoke of fire burning below, pooling in the depressions left by every explosive foot-fall. Each moment the monster grew stronger.

The Jedi temple stood below, nothing more than an ant hill to the beast. The many fleeing in terror were no more than mindless insects.

But each insect had a name, a story. A teary-eyed Ongree tripped to the ground, terror in his eyes, while a fearless Chiss helped her up again, wisdom the only thing compelling her to run. Shrapnel from the boiling explosions ripped through flesh, spilling blood across the ground. An Omwati wailed with grief as she ran, passing the fallen body of a once-mighty Nikto.

The beast was not satisfied. It would not abate, it would never yeild, not until each and every Jedi was squashed like the insignificant ant it surely was.

Dantooine. The past few nights, Sellah's dreams had thrust her into the halls of the old Enclave, even as the Sith occupation tore them to the ground. Sellah could not help but think the dreams were born from some prodding of the Force, for they had only started once she had arrived on Rhen var. Or, perhaps, the coming events had cast a darkness on her mind. Whatever the cause, nothing could keep those faces from Sellah's mind for long, and her mood was somber as the halls of the temple passed around her.

The Selonian race was a frank one, and Sellah had made no move to hide her mood from Ekerin, her Padawan. He had asked of her dream, and so she had told him, with no reservation. She believed him more than capable of understanding such things, and observing the way in which they played out. Experience was the best teacher, after all.

She could hear him close behind her as they walked. She could also hear the murmur of fresh voices flickering in the tunnel, and the echoing of much older whispers, ancient tones breathed into the walls. She could her a distant buzz, a low hum that trickled through the mountain itself and approached the rock of the tunnel from all angles. Dangerous sounds. Evil sounds. Sellah could hear a great many things.

Levin's words spoke to Sellah what her heart already knew.

She paused, and Ekerin did likewise. She turned to him. "Can you hear it?"

Her paw rested a moment on his shoulder, forging a connection that only master and padawan share, a connection that now was only a whisper of what it one day would be. But it was enough, and they both felt the way that the low growl rose and fall in the distance, vibrating through the Force as much as it did through the air.

"That is evil, Ekerin." Her golden eyes peered deeply into his, with all the earnesty she could muster. "Do not fear it. Never let it win. Death is not losing." Sellah took great care to form the words, for they were the very same that had long ago been spoken into her heart by her own master, and now at last she passed them to her own Padawan. "You only lose when you give up hope." The moment lingered but a small bit longer, before Sellah straightened again and the two quickened their pace to catch up with the other Jedi, who had already stopped.

A tremor suddenly vibrated through the temple, the very same tremor as in Sellah's dreams.

"Despite the way the surface of the Sith boils and changes like Rancor slime," Sellah looked down upon Ekerin, "It's still the same stuff at the bottom."

Sellah only spoke when her words were the right ones, and lately... she'd been finding a lot of the right ones. Hisses of white light refracted off the snow, illuminating the form of the Selonian as she drew closer to the mouth of the tunnel. Her long, lithe body was completely comprised of dense, layered muscle, from the end of her whiskered muzzle to the tip of her thick tail. Dark brown fur seemed to accept as much light as it did shadow, blending to a lighter tan at her belly, and marked by the three parallel stripes that swooshed along her spine, starting at the crown of her head and working their way down across her whole length. The sharp claws upon her hand-like paws were formidable, though far more imposing were the white, needle-sharp fangs that showed whenever she spoke. Now, her long whiskers twitched in thought as they were oft' to do, gathering the whumps and tremors in the air that marked the incoming attackers.

A black cloak hung from her shoulders, slit down the left and the right to allow her arms movement while shielding the rest of her from the biting cold. Her Selonian fur was better designed for keeping the water out than the chill, though she was marginally better off than the near-humans, with their thin, bare skin.

Most peculiar of all was the creature that clung to her shoulder, brilliant red eyes glinting with blood-lust. In every appearance, he was a laigrek, despite being scaled a significant amount smaller. Donned in shades of white and pink, the creature was an albino and a runt, but he held just as much ferocity as his larger cousins.

His first meeting with Ekerin had been tense, but the Laigrek had finally understood the arrangement, and was now just as protective of the young Amaran as he was of Sellah. Then, as Levin finished his rallying speech, Sellah bent down for Ekerin once more. Grek, as the oh-so-creative Sellah had dubbed her pet, scurryied gently from her shoulder to his.

"Do not try to work to the center of the battle," Sellah advised. "Do not follow me. Remain on the sideline as much as you can -- watch carefully. Watch closely. There will be a time the Force will call upon you to play your part," she nodded earnestly, "But you will not know unless you listen." To that master and Padawan, those six letters held far more significance than any other could guess. "Call, and I will hear you. Grek will aid you in ways you won't expect -- ways I never expect, anyway. This is not practice anymore, Ekerin." The passion was clear in Sellah's voice, as if she understood just how much rested upon the events of this day. "And," she added, "Please try not to die." Her tone was completely sincere.

But a few more moments passed in which words might be exchanged.

There was stillness in the courtyard. Virgin snow coated everything in a pure mantle of white.

And then it begun.

The Jedi spread out into the courtyard, and a mighty volley of cracks shuddered through the air as the Sith's barrage struck the temple's foundations. Sellah leapt forward in an arcing spring that thrust her near to the forward lines. She watched as the dark stain of the Sith spilled out onto the white of the snow, the stark contrast remaining only a moment, for the dirt of the enemy soon turned the powder a slushy gray.

Sellah leapt forward so that she landed at the basin of the once-flowing fountain, water still insisting on trickling from its upper ledges, unaccepted by the hardened pool below. Another bound and she had crested the fountain. There was but a moment in which Sellah surveyed her surround. And then she struck.

Diving from the high ground, Sellah twisted in the air, her path taking her toward two armored Sith. The same airborne movement brought her saber to her paw, and ignited the deep green blade. It hissed with an eagerness, a vigor and a passion that reverberated its master's own. The twist completed as Sellah neared the ground, her extended saber cleaving in half one of the Sith, armor and all. Sellah allowed her momentum to carry her all the way to the ground, where she collapsed low and sunk three paws to the ground. The move was unexpected, and before the second Sith could lower his gun to her position, she had swept her saber in a round arc, separating him from his ankles. Pushing forward with her back legs, Sellah rose on just the two, sinking her saber deep into the chest of the Sith as she moved past. His writhings ceased.

Let it never be said that Sellah enjoyed killing. However, she found no remorse in killing that which tried to kill her. She believed that if the Force willed a man to live, then her blade would fall astray. In the mean time, she would do whatever necessary to be rid of the threat, and nothing more.

The scent of burnt flesh and blood filled her nose -- an evil scent coming just as strongly from the living Sith as from those who were dead and dying.

Sellah launched a series of dizzying twists and flips through the crowd, halving a rifle and robbing a Sith of his hand in the process, but this was not her end goal. Sellah's end goal was one of the Dark Jedi lurking at the border of the courtyard. He was young, or he appeared so, and it looked as if he was intending to change the odds of a one-on-one duel into the Sith's favor.

As Sellah approached him, he raised his saber in defense, more than prepared to deflect the sudden diagonal blow she had rendered once completing her zig-zag of feints. However, this blow was soon followed by another, and yet another. Sellah put every ounce of determination, every iota of strength her muscles possessed into each and every blow. The Selonian did not believe in rationing -- she fought as if it were her last every moment of every duel, passion flowing through her blade and mingling with the Force.

Her golden eyes surveyed the smirk fading quickly from his face as she forced him to stumble backwards, but she gleaned no satisfaction from this. She was ever wary, for as her blows progressed, he became accustomed to them, and Sellah suddenly realized the man himself was a practitioner of Djem So, and would soon be privy to the Selonian's secrets.

With a great collecting of strength, Sellah coiled her muscles and launched herself upwards, relying on the Force to make her jump higher than otherwise possible. As she soared over the Sith, her cloak became caught by gravity and rippled towards him. His red blade sliced through it, and the acrid scent of burnt cotton pervaded the air as the cloak fell to the ground, the force enough to pull the fabric from Sellah's shoulders.

A mid-air twist, and Sellah landed behind the Sith, facing him once more. He was attempting to bat away the cloak that had fallen across his head, obscuring his vision and attention for a moment.

A precious moment.

Sellah's blade struck suddenly forward, and as the burning plasma touched the Sith's spine, death was instantaneous. The reek of singed flesh worked its way into her nose once more, and Sellah hissed in distaste. The exhale of her hot breath pushed moisture into the air, and it crystallized in a white cloud before falling quickly away. The cold pushed shards of ice through Sellah's veins, invigorating her. Already her strenuous activity was beginning to warm her.

For the time being, the Jedi seemed to be holding strong, and Sellah decided it was wise to be sure her Padawan was safe. She now understood what this fight was going to be. Fast as she was, she willed herself target untouchable to only the most skilled and focused of marskmen, and she was soon back amongst the ranks of the Jedi, sharp eyes scanning for small Ekerin.

The wind howled like some sort of villainous pied piper as it brought in the embodiment of everything the Jedi didn't stand for. Lev's vivid green eyes moved to meet each of the Jedi's near him. There was feelings of calm, steadfastness, uncertainty mixed with fear, and most importantly, awareness. His fellow Blades and Jedi were ready for what was to come. His eyes met Locke Nemsee's, one of very few people the Knight called friend. Levin nodded at Locke, and what could almost be called a slight grin touched his face. He wouldn't tell anyone, but more so than any other Jedi, this is literally what Lev lived for, smiting evil and bringing the dark to light. Little did he know, but this feeling was shared by the very attackers that began to descend.

The muffled Boom! of explosions and howl of drop-ship engines sounded seemed to hit all at once as darkness swirled around Levin's mind. With a deep breath the Jedi drew the Force into his body to push out that very darkness. The Darkside energies hissed and crackled around the Jedi, Levin looked it straight on in his mind and mentally waved it away, his inner Light searing the darkness.

"You shall not touch me filth..."

He muttered to himself more than anyone else. Just in time for the Sith drop-ships to release their payload, many beings of many species seemed to pour out onto the courtyard and the surrounding walls. A Jedi that had stepped in front of Levin not more than a minute ago took a step back but was met by the Healer's hand at his back. The Jedi peered back at Levin with much fear in his eyes, his face sweated even in the cold from sheer terror. Lev's green eyes blazed into his fellow Jedi's, almost to tell him to hold the line. He didn't blame the scared Jedi though, just by the look of it, the Jedi were outnumbered at least five to one.

Lightsabers flashed, snapped, and hissed to life as the attackers loomed over the Jedi. Levin's already lit silver blade snapped up in the beginnings of a Makashi salute. Be not afraid Brothers, Sisters of the Light- Keep faith, and this vermin will be smote down on the mountainside... Levin's eyes closed for a second as he drew the Force into his body. His senses reached out to the dark beings that enclosed the Jedi, the animal-like instincts of them stood out like black on the snow. The Darkside snarled in Levin's face, and those green eyes slowly opened. Each of the attacker's face looked twisted, fanged and snake-eyed. Their inner darkness revealed itself to Lev more so than even they let on. Any time now, they would strike.

With a torrential roar in the Force the Sith attacked, and Levin was ready. That amount of Force the Healer had drawn in was ready to be unleashed. His free hand suddenly thrust down with a push and the loose snow near the Jedi shot up and out in a makeshift cloud cover. But the Jedi would not sit idly, just as the Sith descended on them, Levin had charged straight ahead to meet them. His lightsaber hissed in the cold air as dusted snow steamed away on the silver bar. The Healer side stepped a couple blind blaster shots and burst from the snow cloud. In a blur the Jedi shot from the edge of the cloud right into a crowd of Sith as the Light poured from his being.

Block, parry, thrust and slice was the mantra Lev practiced. It seemed the Sith had gathered more of a horde of villainy than an actual army, and Levin exploited this obvious weakness. A Sith with a double bladed lightsaber spun at Lev, who ducked under the whirling attack before that silver blade of his plunged through the attacker's heart. The Knight didn't stop there, the Jedi snapped his wrist to cut through the attacker and free his lightsaber. The dead Sith's body thudded on the already broken ground of the courtyard, but Lev paid it no mind, other vile beings were about. A couple were beheaded and several lost limbs to the neat and accurate slices given by Levin. Five Sith down, but so many more to go. His teeth clenched down as a Sith landed a slice across his left bicep, the Jedi leaped back as he mapped out the wound.

After a moment of holding his free hand over the wound, the lightsaber cut was shown to not be deep at all, he could still fight. A blast of lighting shot at Levin from a Sith, which made the Healer's eyes widen before he leaped and rolled out of the attack's path. But the Healer was instantly on his feet and he ran at the Sith. Another blast of lightning was met by Levin's lightsaber as he switched to Niman to hold the attack, the weapon's energy blocked the attack brilliantly. The Sith pushed more of herself into the attack as Lev kept at her, his eyes never left her hateful gold ones. He reached her and swung his lightsaber in a mighty strike that was met by her lightsaber, but the Healer was stronger, he forced her own lightsaber and his lightning infused blade into her chest. Blue electricity crackled down the blade for another split second until his attention was grabbed.

A green, tattooed, male Twi'lek heavily covered in certain spots faced him, Lev looked just in time to see the double bladed lightsaber hiss to life.The Healer stood to his full height and looked at this new opponent. He wasn't like the others. Mere children with powers beyond their understanding. This one crackled with the darkside, and his true visage looked at Levin. A wide, grinning mouth sneered at the Jedi, his eyes just as wide and completely blackened, sharp serrated teeth stuck from his lips jaggedly. He spoke, a hissing tone to the Jedi.

“May I have the pleasure?”

Levin at first didn't answer the almost taunting question. His silver blade hissed as it was spun at the Jedi's side. He paced slightly to the left and right, his piercing green eyes never left the Twi'lek's. Levin's mind ticked down the mental list of ways to start the attack, his senses felt around the area for some sort of way to help him, but alas, they were on a largely untouched section of the cracked courtyard now. He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly to peer at this new opponent.

"Hmph, vile one, most unclean... You want pleasure from this? I'm sorry to disappoint you. You will be forgotten in the snowfalls of Rhen Var after this day."

And with that, the Jedi lunged forward, his weapon sprang forward with a loud hum just as Levin's free hand swiped forwards, a massive surge of light came from his palm. Force Blinding, one of Levin's quickest and most refined powers. Unless the Sith was able to detect his intentions milliseconds before the attack, he would be most in shock. Levin's silver weapon hissed and bit forward, a barrage of lunges, swipes and jabs came from the Jedi at all angles. This Sith might have two blades on his weapons, but they were not for defensive purposes, Lev would just need to keep up the assault.

(Been awhile since i posted as Torran...)

"So.....it has begun........" These were the words that entered and a passed through Torran's mind as the gunship he was riding on descended onto the icy world of Rhen Var. The Sith's target was a grand temple set atop and ingrained into a mountain. Torran remained stoic and seemingly emotionless as he came ever closer to the drop point. "It is time...." Again, Torran didn't say a word out loud but he felt his thoughts reach the soldiers behind him.

"Try not to die..." He growled in his surprisingly low and gruff voice. The gunship came close enough for it's contents to jump without them hurting themselves. With a series of front flips, the young Kel Dor warrior landed on his feet like a feline and ignited his saber in the process. It didn't take long for the rest of the soldiers to make contact with the stone roof and repel down to the midsection of the temple. Torran slowly made his way to the edge of the roof, taking a glance down at the battle erupting in the courtyard "Interesting..." He then jumped off, digging his saber into the wall to slow his fall before swinging into the open hall of the floor below him. With goggled eyes, the young kel dor took in a moderately sized group of jedi knights and their padawans. "......heh....heheheh...." insane giggles started to pour from the masked mouth of Torran as his alternate personality started to immerge "Get...out.....get out...of my....get out of my head!" With a shout, the kel dor punched himself in the forehead, letting go of his lightsaber in the process.

A few of the sith soldiers looked at Torran with the same blank, yet slightly confused expression. With a shake of the head, Torran pulled his saber to his hand and reignited it and doing a formal makashi salute before running at the enemy. The first of his foes to fall was a beautiful young raven haired woman wielding a single blue lightsaber, falling to the ground as the hole in her chest right where her heart was, smoked. As she fell to her knees, her head rolled off of her shoulders, a surprised awestruck look in her blank grey eyes was all that Torran saw as the body crumpled to the ground. "Next..." It didn't take long for the rest of the soldiers and jedi to do battle around him, lightsaber against lightsaber, blaster fire everywhere. A few of his fellow initiates were already saber locked, one in particular was a rather sadistic looking twi lek. ".......huh. Time to die.....jedi......" quickly, Torran locked eyes with a young knight, his grey eyes staring into Torran's soul.

Without a moment to spare, Torran cut his way towards his chosen target with deadly efficiency. His talent with the makashi style ensured him a good defense against the swirling attacks of two ataru users, a knight and his padawan, stabbing the knight in the heart before quickly pulling it out into a swift slash to the throat of his apprentice.

It wasn't much longer before Torran approached the young jedi knight. "So.....are you ready...?.....ready to die....?" With another salute, the sith assassin launched himself at Locke with a flurry of one handed slashes and lunges.

Dorrin’s sat impassively in the transport as he waited for it to descend onto the temple. It was a familiar site to him as he had grown up in a Jedi temple, but this was the first time that he would be coming to it as an invader instead of someone who rightfully belonged in it. It was a rather surreal thought that just a little more than two years ago Dorrin would be rushing out to defend the temple against the Sith, but now he was among those who wished to see it cast down in flames.

A small treacherous voice hidden within the very innermost depths of his mind screamed at him to stop what he was doing. The Jedi were his really brothers, that voice continued to urge, and there was no way he could bring himself to attack them. There was still time for his redemption if only he would…with a snarl Dorrin squelched that voice down. That, above all else, was the reason that he had volunteered to attack the mid-levels despite the inherent danger of the task. He knew that his fall to the darkside would not be truly complete, that despite everything he would never truly be able to call himself a Sith, until he sank his blade into a Jedi’s heart.

At last the transport reached its destination, and Dorrin slowly made his way onto the planet. All around him Dorrin could feel the emotions of his fellow Sith ranging from excitement and determination to outright bloodlust. Dorrin only felt a sort of calculated numbness, one that would ensure that he fought with a clear head. Dorrin was no stranger to using his emotions to help him in battle, but in this particular case he was worried that his feelings would be more of a hindrance than a help.

In front him Dorrin could already see Sith and Jedi doing battle. Like many others Dorrin could see the crack in the ground and knew that if either side allowed the battle rage here for too long both forces were in danger of losing men to a collapsing courtyard. But he couldn’t concern himself with that at this very moment; instead he had a job to do. Urgently, he looked for the nearest available Jedi so he could hurry up and cement his loyalty to the Darkside, and break his ties with the past forever.

Dorrin didn’t have to wait long as he was soon attacked by a fairly young Jedi wielding a blue lightsaber. From his movements Dorrin could tell that the Jedi used Ataru, which accounted for the way the young man leapt in the air and assaulted Dorrin with a downward slash. With ease Dorrin easily dodged the blow and sent the Knight flying with a Force push. The man flew through the air and tumbled on the ground for a bit before finally regaining his footing.

Again the youthful human tried to attack Dorrin, this time with a series of combinations that Dorrin easily blocked. When his opponent slashed horizontally at his head, Dorrin simply ducked under the attack and swung his lightsaber in an arc, separating the man’s hand from his arm. A moment later Dorrin’s foot crashed into the man’s stomach, sending him sprawling once again into the snow. Dorrin advanced on the prone figure, ready to end his life with one swift cut through his neck.

But he stopped, and instead let the Jedi be. The man would no longer be a factor in the fighting, and he had not been a challenge for Dorrin in the first place. No, Dorrin’s fall deserved to be marked by the death of a worthy opponent, someone who had a legitimate chance of beating him. Not by the death of someone who had been clearly out of their league when fighting Dorrin.

Dorrin slowly scanned the fighting, trying to find someone worthwhile.

The sky over the site of the battle was like a pale white sheet, rough, yet plush. The air was cold, chilling to the touch. Breath was beyond visible, and tears, if they were brought on during the battle would probably freeze in place in a matter of 10 minutes. Everything was transpiring in this murky white haze of a fight, on a steep blue mountain, and inside its cavernous gut. However, the fight raging all around was going to gore the mountain inside out, and streak the white sheen all around with the blood red stains and blackened corpses of all the inhabitants.

This malice was growing, but amidst the white sheet covering the battle, there was a place where the darkness that was slowly beginning to set was at its most devious, darkest, and most malicious. This spot was a swirling vortex of hatred and anger. The monstrosity was growing and reaching upwards in an attempt to swallow the clouds and the mountains whole. In front on the very precipice of the dark core and all that trail behind it or emanated from it was a very small fighter. The ship was tearing through the snow at break neck speeds, swerving every which way to dodge laser fire.

whatever was flying the ship was pouring very ounce of concentration into finding something, and in doing so was blasting its presence smearing it across the mountain so that every creature could feel it. Waves of dark side energy came out from the ship and crashed across the face of everyone, and brought down a curtain of uneasiness all around the temple.

The dark tsunami of tension and hate swooped down upon the gladiators and as if it had a motive of its own, it attempted to distract and attack the minds of everything on the field.

The Jedi were known for connecting during battle, sometimes being able to move minutes ahead of the adversary because of their link, and if the sith hoped to win by force against bonds such as ones created and maintained by legendary jedi, they would need to fight on an even plain. Whatever or whoever was piloting the fighter knew this, and deemed it necessary to through off the concentration of everyone and everything. It would make for a far more fair fight if the jedi were unable to link and bond to gain a combat advantage, even if that meant hindering the Sith troops as well.

In truth, the pilot could care less... for the only thing that mattered to it, was the person the ship was rocketing towards at the summit. Nothing was going to stop that ship, not until it was no longer needed.

The sky screeched as the jets on the fighter roared louder. The pilot pushed the engine on the fighter to its limits, and fly higher up closing in on the summit.

Jacen remained locked in a gaze with the opposite side of the transport, his visage was pale and seemed...lifeless. He didn't know what exactly it was that made him appear as such.

Maybe it was his bitter subconscious that time after time, despite the lifestyle he had chosen kept coming back like a swam of locusts. The faint flicker of light, locked in a sea of perpetual darkness. Or maybe it was simply nervousness that made him feel sick, the fact that he could very well strike down former friends, people he knew was perplexing. Or maybe it was motion sickness, though he had never had any problem before.

He, from under the first layer of silvery white robes grabbed his flask filled with watered down whiskey that hung attached by a clamp to his vest, among other things. As he took a sip, he wiped his mouth with his forearm and noticed he hadn't shaved recently and was growing quite a beard. Screwing the cap back on, he set it down next to him and resumed his blank stare.

He only knew one of these characters. A green Twi'lek he met at the academy. But even he wasn't the friendliest of guys. He heard the pilot mention the words '30 seconds' and 'LZ' He thought that meant landing zone, though he wasn't entirely fluent in military speak. He put his hand on his lightsaber, preparing himself as he looked out the small circular windows one the wall between every other seat. He saw through the thick, poofy clouds that filled the sky saw the mountainside and the ruins. His heart raced and he got very flustered. The sick feeling that filled his thoughts suddenly went away as he got somewhat of a feel for the horizon. He grabbed his lightsaber from his belt and felt like he was going to burst out of his seat. He got a strange look from the one next to him, but the gaze of Jacen's solemn eyes deterred him.

Finally the ship hovered just feet above the ground as the doors on the side of the transport opened fully and a swarm of sith flooded out into the courtyard. Jacen was among the last to leave but when he did he leaped outward and felt the crunch of thick, icy snow under his boots. He slowly made his way towards the center of the courtyard, in a slower fashion than some of the others. The sound of bombs and gunships rage off in the distance.

He ignited his green lightsaber which immediately attracted the attention of a Rodian jedi who came leaping through the air, he was obviously a padwan as Jacen was able to, in midair, slice off his hand. The rodian let off a high pitched scream as he fell to the ground of the hard, icy ground. As Jacen walked by, he dragged the tip of his lightsaber over the rodian, practically dissecting him.

A grenade exploded about 30 feet in front of him and he rolled behind a fallen pillar to take cover. The explosion blew shards of ice all over and as he looked up over the other side of the pillar again to tried to zero in on a target. As the soldier next to him did the same, he was shot right in the face, killing him instantly. Jacen hurried a bit more as he struggled to zero in on a target.

Finally he had it. "A healer eh?"

"Cold and chaos, what a combination," Locke muttered as he fired off another blast from his pistol, hitting a Sith soldier in the shoulder before he flung him away over the side of the courtyard railing before moving on. Killing had been the last thing he'd thought that his day would contain, but when he had to, he was quite capable of it. Such a pity, he thought as he deflected a stray laser away from him with his yellow-orange lightsaber, sending it flying off into the white sky. He'd found himself in a number of different situations as the fighting started, and it was such a hassle to constantly switch between his blade and his pistol. Solution? Fight with both. And that's what he'd done, moving about with his lightsaber in his right hand and his gun in his left. It was working rather well for him.

But already, things seemed to be turned against the Jedi's favor. They were outnumbered. Quite badly. They fought well together and so far hadn't taken too many losses, but even so... Having to kill five enemies for every ally lost was not a good thing. But what else could they do? Locke jumped as an explosion ripped at the wall next to him, sending shrapnel flying off in all directions. A piece nicked him on the cheek, and he could feel warmth spreading down the side of his face as a tiny trickle of blood started to flow. It stung a bit, but he'd done worse from tripping and skinning his knee. There wasn't much cause for concern.

He, along with a few other Jedi, had been fighting near the entrance of the Temple, trying to keep a path clear for when the time came to abandon the courtyard before it fell in on itself. Locke deflected a shot a Sith soldier fired at him away before retorting with his own shot from his pistol. His shot, unlike the soldier's, hit its mark. The soldier staggered, and Locke leapt forward, rending the man's shoulder and arm from the rest of his body with a single flowing stroke before pushing him back against a statue. The Force screamed at him in warning, and he turned around, raising his blade up to block a stroke down from a Nautolan Sith that surely would have split him in half from head to groin.

"Well, hello there," Locke said with a grin as he reholstered his pistol. "Can't say I've met you before." He pushed up to break the Locke between the two and took a short hop back before making an abbreviated Makashi salute. "And to whom do I owe this honor?"

The Nautolan's response was to launch a blast of Force Lightning at Locke. Locke reacted, making a shield of the Force to defend himself. The impact was fierce, and kicked up loose powder that was on the ground around them. It also blew off Locke's hat. Locke frowned. That couldn't go unpunished. When the lightning ended, he rushed forward, striking out at the Sith with a series of the quick cuts and thrusts Makashi was known for. But the Nautolan was no pushover. Locke's attacks were all blocked or shifted out of the way, and he soon found himself dancing out of the way of his foe's counter attack. And there, Locke found an advantage. From what he could tell, the Nautolan was fairly strong--stronger than he was, though that wasn't saying much--but seemed to be a bit slow. Locke, on the other hand, was quite agile. So he was able to move out of the way of some attacks, rather than block them. The Nautolan's snarl said that he was not pleased by that. Locke caught a horizontal strike on his blade and held it, sot that the two were locked once more. "Now, now," he said in a too-friendly voice, "don't get mad. Surely you know the Five D's of Lightsaber Combat?" He felt confusion welling up in the Sith and laughed. "It's simple: dodge, duck, dip, dive and doge. Here, you try it."

With that he disengaged from the lock before striking out at his enemy's right thigh. The Nautolan jumped back, and Locke smiled. "Good, good!" Locke called out before aiming a quick thrust at the Nautolan's head. The Sith ducked down below the blow, but Locke was counting on that. His foot went up as the Sith's head went down, and he winced a bit as he felt his boot crash into his opponent's face. But he didn't stop there. As the Nautalan roared in pain and anger, Locke whipped out his pistol and shot him in the stomach. The blast hit, and the Sith dropped his blade in shock. "Actually, maybe that one should have been a 'dive,'" Locke said. "I should've told you they didn't have to be in order, but you looked like a smart fellow to me." He shrugged before sticking his blade into the Nautolan's heart, bringing him a quick, relatively painless death. "Maybe I would have if you hadn't knocked my hat away, but I guess it's too late for that, now isn't it?" The young Knight glanced around and spotted his hat, pulling it to him with a satisfied grin. Now that he had it back, he was ready to keep going.

He saw a commotion out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. And what he saw stunned him. It was a man he hadn't seen in a long time. A man he'd last seen in the Jedi Temple, years ago. But, that couldn't be him. "Dorrin," he called out as he started to stride to the tall man, though he kept his lightsaber ignited. "Dorrin Morril?" It was him. By the Force, he was alive! "By the Force, Dorring, you're still alive!" Locke's voice was, for once, filled with the sense of surprise that the felt within him. "After you vanished on that mission two years ago..." He shook his head slowly. "We all thought you were dead... How did you get here? And what have you be-" Then it dawned on Locke. The feeling of darkness that seemed to reside within his old colleague, the defeated Jedi that lay on the ground near him... Locke's eyes went wide with disbelief. "Please, Dorrin... Please tell me what I'm thinking is wrong," he said slowly as he raised his blade to prepare for battle. "Please tell me you aren't one of them."

The sudden sound of clashing sabers and Jazen's voice made Locke look behind him. Jazen was now engaged with a foe of his own. Dammit, Locke thought. He needed to help Jazen, but he'd have to deal with Dorrin first, at least until someone could come and distract Dorrin for him. Hang in there for just a little while, kid, he thought. I'll be there as soon as I'm able.

"So," he said as his eyes returned to meet those of the tall man before him, his voice suddenly hard and dangerous, rather than his usual aloof and snarky, "whose side are you on?"

Di’Shan had to admit himself truly impressed by the Jedi he’d chosen to face off with. The man’s voice rang with the conviction of his words and every fiber of him seemed to shine in the Force like the gleam off a highly polished ship. It wasn’t quite the sun, but it was close enough. Di’Shan would have offered a suitable retort but his opponent didn’t seem interested in conversation as he lunged forward with a speed the Sith hadn’t expected. A flare of warning went off in Di’Shan’s mind, ringing through the Force only a fraction of an instant before the healer’s hand erupted in light and he only managed to close his eyes partially. It hadn’t been enough to keep him from being affected though and only instinct saved him from being run clean through within the first few seconds of the fight. As soon as the light hit his eyes, Di’Shan recoiled and swung back, bringing his dual saber down to block anything aimed at his midsection.

Lights danced behind his lids as he squeezed his eyes shut and he could feel the heat of the healer’s saber as it came within a fraction of an inch of his torso. Only Di’Shan’s quick movement and the raising of his blade had spared his life. To some Sith, it would seem Di’Shan had chosen poorly but for the Twi’lek, he couldn’t have been happier. Here was an opponent that was poetically fitting. If he were going to die, why not let it be at the hands of a Jedi healer, a pinnacle of light to burn away his soul? Of course, Di’Shan wasn’t about to die that easily either. He spun his blade furiously before him, relying on his sense of sound and the vibrations in the air he could gather through his lekku to keep him just out of the Jedi’s reach. His feet worked furiously to back him away from that searing attack while he blinked to clear his vision. Fortune and the Force were with him as a second Sith warrior, seeing what he thought was an opening, stepped in to attack. Di’Shan bit back a chuckle when he heard the Sith’s body hit the snow with a dull thud, but he at least appreciated the delay it had cost the healer. It allowed Di’Shan to gain at least a modicum of his sight back and though things were still a bit blurry and dark around the edges, Di’Shan’s vision was rapidly clearing. He could well imagine the effect that light burst might have had if he hadn’t closed his eyes at all.

Even with his vision returning, Di’Shan found himself hard pressed by the fierce warrior before him. The Jedi jabbed, lunged, ducked and rolled with the skill of an absolute master and only Di’Shan’s fast thinking, the chaos of the battlefield, and his speed allowed him to even stay alive. He knew without question that this was one fight he simply wasn’t going to win. He chuckled openly as his saber clashed over and over with the healer’s. “Oh you ARE glorious, aren’t you?” he hissed with a note of genuine if begrudging respect. He quick-stepped up a wall and brought his saber down as he flipped over the healer’s head. He could feel the swipe of the silver blade chase his heels up the wall and yet still swig up in time to clash with his own as he struck. His feet hit the snow and he was on the move instantly, drawing his enemy across the battlefield in a series of rapid dives and rolls, his sleek form leaping right over the heads of other dualists as he fought to keep his body intact from the tenacity of the Jedi’s attack.

A young Jedi rushed in from the back, thinking to pin Di’Shan between her and Levin but her enthusiasm left her far too open. Di’Shan could feel her approach without turning. He continued his frenzied defense against the Jedi before him and when the second Jedi got close, her saber raised over her head for what would have been a powerful strike, Di’Shan kicked out with one long leg, slamming it straight into her stomach. He could hear the wind rush out of her lungs and she fell behind him into the snow. Sadly he had no time to finish her though as the healer continued to press the attack. Di’Shan vaulted over her head and the woman reflexively drew back, expecting the attack that didn’t come. He was far too busy with the healer to bother with the girl. He could feel the welcome burn across his arms that came as the muscles truly warmed to their task. He was in a fight for his life against this Jedi. Around him, the Force surged and swelled like the waves of a turbulent ocean as Sith and Jedi collided head on. He could feel the healer’s Force Signature clearly, a pulsing light like a nova in the midst of the sea of chaos. He could see clearly why the Jedi would be drawn to this one, how he would lead them, why they would trust him.

Another Force presence drifted in from somewhere behind the healer, one that Di’Shan recognized, and his smile grew as he sensed Jacen’s attention turn his way. Oh how the healer would hate that. One of his own, a fallen Jedi, a brother, was nearby and was turning his way. Di’Shan sent a wave of encouragement to his fellow Sith, beckoning him to join in the dance that they might at least prove sporting for the healer. Di’Shan wanted to see it, wanted to feel that confusion and pain that he hoped would come when the Jedi turned and found himself staring into the eyes of one of his own only to have to defend himself.

And wait Gabriel did. He stood by – sabers glowing in the frigid air, feeling the force writhe and gurgle with the uncontained and unbridled power of the dark-side pouring toward the group of blades. A puff of breath escaped from under is wrapped mouth as the vision of drop ships soared into view. Finally the young knight had a front to put to the darkness surrounding him. His calm expression never changing, as his piercing blue eyes scanned the scene vigilantly, watching as the ships began dropping their vile cargo. Like acid rain, the Sith militants began pouring to the snowy terra below, followed closely by the polar opposite of the Jedi, a venomous flood making its way toward the Blades of the Order and other Jedi of the temple. The sounds of sabers hissing to life all around him set his jaw.

There was a moment’s pause as he concentrated on the force, allowing his subconscious to fade into his conscious, becoming a single instinctual entity functioning solely on the movement of the force; this allowed him to keep his mind clear and react based on the moment, the flow and ebb of living force. He took a breath, knowing full well that if the force dictated he live, he would survive. He nodded slowly, closing his eyes, he cracked his neck as the troopers hit the ground with the sound of blasters firing. His eyes flashed open and the young knight was on the move.

Slowly, at first, he made his way toward the troopers and their Sith leaders. His fellow Jedi burst past him, as he calmly deflected bolts back at their senders. His stride quickly picked up as the first wave of saber wielding enemies made their way from their drop ships. He quickly put his feet in gear and bounded toward the enemy lines orange sabers buzzing in front and around him, blocking stray bolts and deflecting them harmlessly into the atmosphere.

The first dark one he faced that day was a young human, no older than him, though the Darkside had corrupted him considerably; showing itself in his yellowed teeth and eyes. The many scars lining his enemy’s face along with a sneering scowl, was quickly transformed into something of a twisted surprise as the young Jedi blocked his single red saber, from an over head chop. Gabriel planted his foot and brought his knee high, with a jump. The initiate felt the powerful force from the Jedi’s knee force his air from his chest, and before he knew it he was soaring back into a charging group of troops from a powerful telekinetic push from the ember haired Jedi. Gabriel’s momentum was not stopped, not having time to think before he was shoving his shoulder into a trooper’s side and planting his hand in the Sith’s stomach and disengaging his orange saber; he focused his power into his right fist as he pushed forward with is arm and continued focus throwing the force from his fist allowing another body the gift of flight as his left saber deflected a bolt and his right hissed back to life.

Gabriel charged directly toward another saber wielding enemy; this time stopping just short, blocking a wide swing from the Mon Calamari with his left saber, and slipping the right saber under, throwing open the Mon Cal’s defenses, though he was surprised as his opponent kicked out hitting him just under his knew – sending his leg out from under him. He was sent a step forward, just in time for a blaster bolt which was meant for him to fly over his back into the Mon Calamari, killing him instantly. Gabriel stood back up and looked behind him to see a saber swinging at his body, he barely had time to bring his right saber up to block it and launch an attack of his own, trapping the red saber between his, he pushed out with his body weight and the force, sending the new attacker skidding backward, leaving two long trenches in the snow. Gabriel shot off after him; though a line of troopers had charged in to intercept him.

His movement was flawlessly smooth; he blocked a small barrage of blaster shots with his sabers. He reached to the back of his hip to latch his right saber hilt onto this belt. He then planted his left foot and shot his right hand out toward the ground pushing his the force through and sending himself up and over the line of troopers, leaving only a small crater in the snow in front of the line. While he soared above the trooper’s heads his hand summoned his saber back to it as the other flashed down, severing two troopers at an angle across their chests and as the other ignited hit found its way through another trooper’s waist, while the fourth trooper met his end with the left saber fizzing through his chest and the other saber blocking a red saber, wielded by the same attacker he had been chasing a moment prior. His right saber pulled free from the trooper and found its way into the dark initiate’s chest.

Gabriel bolted off toward another group, knowing full well, that these were merely the pawns, and these attackers outnumbered the small group of Blades and Jedi by a frightful amount. Though the young knight would be damned if he was about to give into those numbers. His keen senses pinpointed Levin’s signature, turning to see him facing off against green, tattooed Twi’lek, both fighting fiercely as a blur of silver and red whizzed between them. While deflecting another bolt, Gabriel’s senses picked up another dark presence taking note of the silver sabered healer. His eyes widened as he realized what this connection would mean; his eyes focused on the duo and he shot off in their direction.

Almost as if Rhen Var could feel the turmoil that broke out on her surface, the clouds overhead seemed to get darker. The weight of them pulled the clouds lower and lower until they sat just over the temple it seemed before the heavens unleashed. Heavy snow fell down all around, it's flakes large and covered the area like ash. Levin's assault continued on the Twi'lek, just as mighty as before. He was impressed that even with being in a blinded state, the villain was able to hold back the Healer's assault.

But it seemed that another Sith wanted to step into Levin's path. As the warrior leaped at the Jedi he was met in mid air by a blast of light from Lev's open palm. Blinded and shocked the attacker fell to the ground with a thud. A quick jab to his back in between the shoulder blades would sever the warriors spine, paralyzed but not dead. It was foolish for him to attack, but stupidity shouldn't be met with death in the Jedi's eye. Levin wouldn't sit by though, he instantly was on the Twi'lek once more, sparks flew from their lightsabers as they clashed. A slight tendril of the Force would touch the girl that the villain kicked, a whisper of comfort came from the Healer. Go into the Temple, find Master Rhissai, you will be safe there.

This Sith had proved to be malevolent and cruel, he needed to be stopped. The Force pooled into Levin for a brief second before his free hand reached to some icicles that hung off one of the benches and wrenched them free. He pulled them towards the duo and leaped high into the air just as the barrage of icy needles flew at the Sith. Levin landed several feet away from the Twi'lek, but that distance was enough to attract a few more Sith. The Jedi tossed his lightsaber up into the air and opened his palms wide.

"Behold the Light!"

Bellowed Levin just as the warriors descended on him. The Force roared through him like a dam just burst, his presence in the Force ignited, even to those that weren't Force sensitive, a slight glow seemed to emanate from the Jedi. His augmented speed snapped his hands towards each of the Sith, a loud Bang! followed a bright burst of white light, four in a row. The Sith all landed with a howl and clutched at their faces just as Lev's silver bladed weapon fell back to the ground.

Levin grabbed the lightsaber out of mid air and swung in an arc around his body, four heads rolled into the snow followed by the thuds of four bodies. His sharp green eyes turned to the Twi'lek, Levin's face a stern one and his expression grim. Just as the attackers had been smote, so would he. That was when he felt another presence gaze his way, somehow familiar, and more powerful than the fodder that fell to his blade. A name whispered to Lev's mind through the Force, one he recognized. Jacen...

A fallen Jedi, one he had seen before. A tainted soul, wicked and cruel now. How many did the darkness need before it was satisfied? How can a single entity be so ever-consuming? Levin shook his head at the thought of another good soul corrupted by the taint. And now, it was his job to remove the taint by any means necessary. Lev stepped back away from the Twi'lek and Jacen, his lightsaber held out straight, the silver blade would snap from the green nemesis to the fallen Jedi and back again, he made sure that the pair knew that he was aware of them.

Another presence, this one was clean, untainted, and turned towards them. Levin's eyes snapped to Gabriel for a split second, but in that split second, a message was sent. NO! Gabriel Alaris, these villains aren't like the others. I can handle them, help the other Jedi, they need it more than I. Protect the Jedi, defend the Temple, do NOT let it fall!

A slight nod would seal the message, and let Gabriel know he had this. His senses pooled outwards towards the two Sith as the snow fell on him, the white salted his dark hair, and the flakes hissed as they fell on the silver bladed weapon. The Force graced his mind for a brief second, it warned him of a greater threaten route. Lev understood the warning, he mustn't exert himself all the way on these two, his final thread would be saved for later. But for now, he needed to focus on this devilish duo.

"Your move, filth."

The invasion had proved to be increasingly successful as the jedi, both knight and padawan alike fell to the hard stone ground from the might of the bloodthirsty powerhouse that was the Sith Empire. The darkside swirled around the battlefield, slowly overpowering the ever withering presence of the light side, wind sweeping over the temple, bringing ominous snow and even a bit of sleet. It was now that Torran was being interrupted by a lowly padawan, one who surely must've belonged to the man he had planned on engaging.

It was now that the young padawan launched a series of rather large icicles from the ceiling at Torran, who, with a quick wave of his hand, sent them off course and shattering against the ground. With a quick force push, Jazen was able to throw Torran a few feet back ".................." Torran continued to fly through the air, soon after curling his body into a backflip and landing on his feet. After sliding back some, the kel dor then charged at Jazen and locked blades with him.


"Move......now." A slight pause was made after those words rumbled out of the kel dor's mouth, a very slight sythesized tone from his mask was only very barely audible. "Do not approach me with such an amateurish grasp on the force, you won't survive." A tinge of annoyance could be heard as Torran quickly analyzed the human boy, keeping his saber locked with his with one hand. Torran waited but only a few moments more before forcing Jazen back with his blade "........End game......" Torran slowly brought the hilt of his lightsaber parallel to his body, still utilizing only his right arm, preparing to add the acrobatics of ataru to the elegant strokes of makashi.

With that, the kel dor prodigy leaped into the air, twirling and flipping like some sort of beautifully graceful dancer in the air, coming down in an instant like a falcon diving in for the kill. With a single one handed swing, the emerald green of his saber crashed down onto the young padawan, Torran only just landing on his feet before backflipping away.

"..........." Torran stared down the teen as he cracked his neck, the popping of joints echoing like thunder on the battlefield as he shut off his lightsaber. "Last chance........" Again the kel dor waited for a response, only to be happily dissappointed "I will pray for you....." he then reignited his saber and got ready for another attack.

Like a bullet, the kel dor kicked off the ground, leaving a small cloud of swirling snow behind him as he sprinted towards Jazen, unleashing a hellish barrage of very well aimed slashes and lunges with all manner of flips and spins integrated into the flurry of blows.

“So, whose side are you on?”

Those words hit Dorrin like a blow as he stared at his old friend’s face. The two had been relatively good friends, with Locke’s well deserved reputation as a smartass being a constant source of amusement for Dorrin. For a second Dorrin felt like he was transported back in time, back to when he still believed in the idea of light, and right and goodness in its purest forum. For that one singular moment it seemed that the Darkness lifted from him, but then the weight of all that he had suffered came crashing down on him, and his anger returned.

“It’s been quite awhile Locke,” Dorrin sneered as he saluted the man with his lightsaber, “you seem to have gotten better since the last time I saw you. What have you been up to these last two years?” Dorrin didn’t know why he was talking instead of attack. He knew some Sith liked to play mind games with their opponents, to taunt them into fighting rashly instead of calmly and thus give the Sith the advantage. But Dorrin had always been confident enough in his swordsmanship to feel that such tricks were not needed to achieve victory.

Somewhat abruptly it occurred to Dorrin that Locke was the opponent he had been looking for. He would not go down as easily as the Jedi that Dorrin had just defeated; no defeating Locke would take skill on Dorrin’s part. They had never actually sparred together in the temple, but Dorrin knew that Locke was fairly skilled with the lightsaber, especially when one considered the combination of his speed and technique. Thus the question would be how those two attributes would measure up against Dorrin’s strength, size, and creativity. A smile began to grace
Dorrin’s lips as his body began to ready itself for a real challenge.

But still he did not attack. He suddenly felt a strange need to explain to Locke just what might cause a respected Jedi Knight to fall to the Darkside. “Let me ask you something Locke,” Dorrin said as his mind drifted back. “Imagine if you will, that you’re a Knight of the Jedi Order, and one day you wake up to find yourself captured by a Dark Jedi. And every day for an entire year, your sole purpose in life was to be tortured by him without respite, without mercy, but with a faint glimmer of hope.”

As Dorrin spoke he felt the anger and pain from that time come back tenfold. He had thought that he had overcome it, that he had mastered it, but he realized that he simply buried it hoping that it would simply go away. But now he allowed it to flow through him, allowing it to grow and grow as he continued to tell his story.

“You see, you’ll believe for an entire year that your order will not abandon you. Though you are helpless to escape, despite repeated attempts, you know that given all the wise masters of the force, between all the skills that the Jedi have, someone will be able to find you and save you from the hell that has become your home. No matter how great the pain, no matter the perverse ways the Force is used to increase your agony, that is the thought that sustains you. And then one day your same torturer comes in, and in his hand is the head of the Jedi who got tortured with you. Your old master, who had been like a father, had just been decapitated.”

The rage threatened to consume to Dorrin, and he spat out the last of his story. “You realize then that your order, your family has completely abandoned you! So tell me Locke, if that had happened to you, what side do you think you would be on?”
With that Dorrin attacked. He took all his rage and used it as a tool, just as he had been taught during his tenure as a Sith. It had been a lesson that he had difficulty grasping, but suddenly everything clicked into place, and he saw how his power could be amplified when his emotions were properly channeled instead of simply meditating them away.

He used the force to amplify his speed as he attacked Locke. It was a combination of three powerful slashes at his torso, followed by a quick force push toward the wall.

The Battle of Rhen Var had begun. The Force and Fate each had their hands dirtied in the evens of this day; whether the light would prevail or darkness ensue, was in the hands of these individuals warring in the frozen courtyard of the Jedi Temple.

“Gabriel Alaris, these villains aren't like the others. I can handle them, help the other Jedi, they need it more than I. Protect the Jedi, defend the Temple, do NOT let it fall!”

The words echoed through his head as he watched the healer dispatch several enemies with finesse and a flash which fell nothing short of pure white light. The young Jedi watched in momentary awe of the spectacle, squinting as to not look directly into the bright light, but still dumbfounded as the healer cut down the attackers. He watched as the two Sith closed in on the healer, and as the order to stay back was given, Gabriel exhaled deeply hard with a large puff of condensation. His brow folded into a conflicted expression of his apparent dislike at the situation he was now allowing setup in front of him.

He was shaken back to reality as his right saber flew up to block a bolt and deflect it back to its origins. Again he was attacked by another initiate of the Sith order; expertly defusing the attack with a parry, feint, slash, and a lounge. Another body, and a red saber hit the snow, followed by the sound of a low grunt of satisfaction as he looked back to see the healer facing to the two dark ones. The healer’s silver saber shining in the white snow; the three red saber blades glowing ominously, countering that wondrous silver sheen.

The young Jedi shook his hair; the white light shining through the falling snow pulled the orange and red from the black, allowing the true spectacle of his hair to come through for a brief moment. It was at the moment which the conflicted young Jedi made a decision. His eyes shot about the courtyard and back to the opposite side where the healer and two Sith were; his eyes catching the various struggles unfolding, with red blaster fire ever prevalent. He found his course.

“Respectfully…”[/color] He reached out with his thought to the healer. ”That’s exactly what I’m doing…"[/color] The young Jedi shot from his standing position toward a small group of troops, sliding to the snowy ground, and sliding through, taking two lives and four legs from the knee down; he planted his feet and pushed the force through his elbows propelling him back to his feet, as he continued his sprint toward the healer’s position. “But we need you today more than you know, and as you pointed out: they’re different.”[/color]

Gabriel became a blur of orange saber, as he powered forward blocking blaster fire and the occasional saber. He hoped the healer would understand what compelled the young one, and hopefully his decision would prove to be beneficial as opposed to detrimental. He was sure the healer would understand his willingness to endanger or even forfeit his life if it meant his brothers and sisters in the force would survive. He simply continued pushing his powerful form forward, concentrating on the force to allow his senses to flood about him, as he kept his eyes focused on the healer and the two darkones.

Locke could only feel a growing sense of sorrow for Dorrin as the former Knight told his tale. By the light, the man's gone through some horrible things... "Dorrin... look," he said slowly, and oddly enough, he couldn't bring himself to look the other man in the eye. "We didn't know what happened to you. Light, man, we thought something went wrong and you and your master had been killed! If we'd known that you were being held captive, someone would have been sent out to try to save you. You know that." His voice grew stronger as he spoke, and his grey eyes grew hard as he looked up to lock with Dorrin's as a cold wind blew in deeper, thicker sheets of snow around them. "What happened to you is something that shouldn't have, and I'm sorry we couldn't help, for what it's worth, but there wasn't anything we could do."

And then Dorrin was on him. Locke growled as he stepped back, readying to face his former friend's assault. Dorrin was strong. A good deal stronger than Locke was, and if the battle turned into one of brute strength, Locke wouldn't be able to stand up to him for long. But Locke was quick, and would have to find a way to use his agility to his advantage. It would come down to who could press their advantage better. Whatever happened, Locke would be in for a tough fight; he'd never sparred against Dorrin before, but he knew the man was no pushover. The Jedi that had been lying at his feet could attest to that.

Locke blocked two of the three strike Dorrin lashed out with, his yellow-orange blade clashing loudly with Dorrin's red when they met. He ducked low under the last one, and he was thrown back by a surprise blast of telekinetic energy. He slammed into the wall, but he landed on his feet and held his blade back up, ready to keep going. Hitting the wall had hurt, yes, but he was focused now, and the pain was forgotten as the Force flowed into him, filling the him to the very core of his being.

"What end does serving those who did this to you serve," he shouted out to Dorrin over the din of the battle. "What good does that do?! It makes you no better than they are, Dorrin!" He shook his head at that and stared at the taller man. Oddly enough, Locke could feel his own anger starting to rise up within him. Not anger at Dorrin, but at those that had done such terrible things to him. No one deserved to go through what Dorrin had been put through, and the thought that it had happened to a friend made Locke quite mad. "Don't become one of them, Dorrin. Don't let them break you. We may not have known about what was going on, but we would never abandon you."

He was about to say something more when he felt a surge in the Force a little farther out in the courtyard. He looked out past Dorrin and his eyes went wide with shock as a sharp spine of fear ran through him. Jazen was still alone, and was about to face off against a Sith that, if Locke's quick probing outwards was correct, was far out of his league. Maybe even beyond Locke's ability to handle alone. Jazen would need his help, but he'd have to find a way to get past and away from Dorrin first. "Dammit," he said softly as his gaze returned to the larger man. "I don't have time for this."

Locke's yellow-orange blade snapped up before him as he made a quick salute to Dorrin, and then he was on the attack. He lunged forward, aiming a swift cut at Dorrin's left arm before feinting low down to a sweep at his leg. Then he kept going, flowing into another cut intened to hit high on Dorrin's right shoulder before quickly throwing in a punch that would hit the big man in his jaw if it connected. Finally, he launched out with a blast of his own in the Force, with the intention to blow Dorrin back farther out into the courtyard. But none of his strikes had the intention to kill behind them. Disable, yes, but he would not kill Dorrin. Not unless he found himself being forced to do so. After all, there was always a chance for redemption.

Even so, he found himself looking for a way to disengage his former friend. He could deal with Dorrin later. Jazen would need his help, and soon. "Hang on, Jazen, I'm coming as fast as I can," he said through the Force to his student. But that would have to wait. For just a little while longer, at least.