Spirefall

[Rugs]

Neology Fromikeable sparrow

It’s been too long.

The Vim’s engines roared overhead as Locke’s small landing ship returned to its hangar. The cruiser’s engines cast a pale blue light over the urban block as it climbed, pushing away from the landing zone where it had unloaded a small Republic force to assist with the ground war. Laser canon fire pricked the twilight as the Vim’s anti-air batteries revved up against a wave of crystalline Archeri strikecraft.

Dull explosions, punctuated with a sound like shattering glass, thumped overhead as Locke turned away from the chaos filling the sky and toward the Eye.

Another Jedi, a Nautolan master, would lead the strike team on to join the assault on the Cerbozz Pit. Locke, under special orders Battlemaster Vyshaan authorized, was striking out on his own, to join his contacts in a clandestine effort to slip through the Archeri shields.

Here’s hoping we can get through this without causing a bigger damn mess, he thought as he strapped himself in on a small speeder bike. Assumign we’re not all dead by the end of this.

Locke revved the engine onece and the speeder shot off into the twilight.

---

The Blind Eye loomed against the horizon, illuminated by the setting sun behind it. Its shape was unmistakable, by this point, though from a distance, Locke could tell something was different about it. Metal barriers blocked some of the windows, and Locke spotted the silhouettes of turrets and other defenses bolted to the exterior.

One turret was firing staccato flashes of red plasma at some unseen threat that either escaped or was cut down, leaving the casino-turned-fortress eerily quiet in the chaos that surrounded it.

“This is Tyrvast, approaching from bearing 243,” he said over his comm. “Don’t shoot me, please.”

Far beyond, a few dozen kilometers away, the second Spire towered over the cityscape. Its peak disappeared into the layers of smoke from the fires raging through the city around it. If Locke focused enough, he could see laser fire and explosions tearing through the surrounding blocks at its base, with occasional blossoms of flame flaring futilely against the powerful Archeri barrier.

He sincerely hoped the battle above was going better than the ground effort seemed to be.

”Yea, you’re clear,” a voice from the Eye crackled back. ”Come on in. Rear docking bay.”

A squadron of Sith bombers rumbled overhead as he banked and began to descend to the Eye. Some distant explosion blew out windows on a nearby building as the docking bay’s durasteel bay doors parted to admit him.

The Eye was a different place, and yet as familiar as ever. Locke’s suspicion of its changes proved to be as true within as without, as he walked to the main floor. Yet as happy as he was to see so many of the crew were still alive, he couldn’t quite hide his desire to see one person in particular.

“So,” he asked the heavily-armed Nikto he didn’t quite recognize who escorted him in, “where’s Lidah?”

[Fromikeable]

"I'm pulling the droids back in to the inner perimeter."

"Is Grav Squad still pinned?"

"They got out, but Therm squad took a hit covering their retreat."

"When the horde hits checkpoint F, blow the speeder cells, block the street."

Hertz disappeared in an instant, the man sprinting away from the conversation. As Thel pressed his hair back, Lovelace offered him no time to rest, taking up Hertz's place beside him. Without skipping a beat, she powered up her holopad, starting with her own list of problems.

"We just lost shuttle B."

"How many left?"

"Just A and C."

"Pull them in, make sure they're fueled up."

"The shield's also draining way quicker than we thought. A few more shots and the generator might start dying."

"Pull the spare parts from whatever you need. I want guys literally sitting on the roof ready to crack it open the minute it does."

"They'll need to come from the scrubbers." A second of silence followed, Vance's jaw clenching for a second.

"... how many will that leave?"

"Two."

"... then we're gonna' have to be ready to survive on two scrubbers." A hard swallow accompanied a curt nod. "Do it." Lovelace disappeared in a similar fashion, leaving Vance to sip at water from a canteen. It was a lot harder to swallow now.

That was life today, though. A series of decisions that made it increasingly hard just to stay calm.

Truthfully, Vance had just been trying not to focus on how familiar the invasion felt. Every demolished building looked more and more like other demolished buildings. Every scream and shot and explosion sounded indiscernible from battles past. People looked at other people with that same, indistinguishable sense of doom in their eyes, like they weren't struggling to survive, but simply trying to fend off their own death just another few hours. That deafeningly quiet sense of resignation.

It was matched only by the screams of the monsters that assaulted every checkpoint and slowly destroyed every defense by sheer force of numbers. At least the Archeri could talk. The rakghouls hadn't been so intelligent.

Vance was still debating whether that made them better or worse.

His radio cut the thinking short. "Incoming friendly." Perking up a bit at the sound, he grabbed his helmet. "Tyrvast, white armor on a speeder. Sending him around back." Vance was already headed downstairs.

---

A yell from the floor above answered Locke's question. "She's waiting on something." Trudging down the main staircase, Vance picked up the pace when he finally laid eyes on Locke. Helmet stowed under his arm, he came down the staircase with just a little more speed than he meant to, his anxiety and excitement betraying him just a hair. As he finally came near, the Nikto nodded in acknowledgement and departed, leaving Vance a clear path of attack.

The attack was, of course, a one-armed hug, squeezing the Jedi Master harder than he'd meant, but what felt like not hard enough through their armors.

Only daring to give it a few short seconds, Vance released Locke as quickly as he'd grabbed him, smoothing out his hair. He looked like a mess; sweat and ash across his face and neck, a few dried drops of blood across the side of his face, not to mention crusting certain locks of his hair. That was to say nothing of the massive bags under his eyes; if he'd been sleeping, it didn't show.

Still, compared to the infected, he looked positively sparkling.

Lowering his voice, Vance’s tone took on a quality that was both grim and curious. ”What did you guys bring? Is it enough...?” To give them a chance to survive? To hold out just a little longer? Force forbid, to win? He didn’t dare finish the question, not wanting to get his own hopes up.

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

Lidah sat in her office, peeling military-grade combat stims off a sheet of dermiplast stickers and applying them in a colorful line down the inside of her left arm. Painkiller, endorphin-analog, amphetamine. Red and black coating on the polyethylene back, Imperial dross. Stolen, meant to be sold back to them in a future that would never come to pass. It would keep her on her feet for the next 6 or 12 or 18 hours. That was all that really mattered. Pinpricks of sweat broke across her palms, the back of her neck. Very likely she’d need a new liver after all this. Kidneys, maybe. Pancreas. The cloned organs had been started 6 months ago on Circumtore, and that wasn’t bad lead time. Could be close to full size by the time she got there – if she kept the more irreplaceable parts of herself intact. Somewhere above, the ventilation system grumbled and spun down. Lidah rolled down her sleeve and worked the pressure gloves on over her hands, fingers flexing compulsively. ”Tut-tut, V. Might as well take ‘em all offline. If you need the power.” Two weeks onset, and longer to kill … Everyone in the building could be breathing spores and it still wouldn’t matter. The Spire would fire again, soon. Before the plague could really fuck up any of the new arrivals. Or the combined fleets up above would destroy it, drive it off maybe. A partial victory might doom the Galaxy, but even temporary silence would be a relief. The Chorus was a constant companion these days, a swift undercurrent to her thoughts. The drugs helped. The voice in her dreams did not understand gross, meat-based existence. Its various strengths and frailties. Sometimes part of her wished she felt the Force with the kind of purity so often alluded to by the Chorus and its mouthpieces. Mostly, she didn’t. Any kind of wall that she could throw up between herself and that, chemical or otherwise, seemed a good thing. Helmet resting against one hip, Lidah stepped out of the lift tube into the casino foyer. The light stung her eyes, pupils dilated and dark against a sliver of blue and violet. Locke drew her attention like a lightning rod but she hung back, feeling rather stupidly self-conscious. Illness had sharpened her features, worn her done to bone and sinew and disconcerting bruises. She surrendered to gravity eventually though, not quite looking at him as she sidled up. Her cracked lips shaped a smile. ”Cutting it close, aren’t they? Not sure we’d have still been here in a week.” Brushing back her hair – lank and stringy now – she studied Locke full on, to assess the damage of Bothawui and other things. Stupid helmet. She couldn't tell a damn thing. She pulled hers on with jerky motion, petulance that faded as earpiece static relayed the alarmed confusion of several perimeter sentries. "This is Faine. Do not, under any circumstances, shoot my dragon."

[sparrow]

“We’ve removed your forearm launcher to make room for the dispenser system,” Dr. Easin explained as the medical assistant droid secure the mechanical arm to Zarene’s shoulder mount. “It’ll inject the medicine directly into your system.” Opening a panel on her forearm, he placed a pair of vials into their corresponding mounts, securing them in place. The dark liquid inside was the latest result of the Empire’s efforts to combat the plague. Not a cure, but between it and her rebreather, it would keep her standing for at least a while longer.

Long enough to take down that Spire, she hoped. There was still much about the Archeri that remained unknown, but one thing was clear. If the Archeri spire on Nar Shaddaa was completed and fired, all those who had been infected, save those who had already turned, would die.

The spire, incomplete as it was, was already having an effect. The racket of Archeri noises in her head at reached a crescendo, inducing periodic migraines that were now increasing in frequency. She popped the pills into her mouth, swallowing with a quick gulp of water.

The interior of the speeder served as a mobile command center. As the most senior Praetor of the Cult of Strife on the ground, she had the command of the Sith forces on the ground. The holographic images of two of the recently arrived Sith Strife cultists flickered above the holotable in the center of the room. Creel, a tall, well-muscled Zabrak, face covered with dark tattoos, had been given the left wing, while Milan, with long blond hair that seemed more suitable for a catwalk than a battlefield, commanded the right. A third Sith, Torval, a plain unassuming man, stood in the flesh at the opposite end of the holotable. The Cult of Strife had its share of brutes and meatheaded warriors, but these were three she could trust to command.

Colored blocks representing soldiers and Archeri moved across the projected holomap, updated as reports continued to flow in.

As Creel finished his latest report, Zarene leaned forward to peruse the current state of the holomap. The plan was simple in concept, but complicated in details. The wings would advance together, linking up with the Republic ground troops. Pairs of squads would move together, one setting up a defensive position behind debris or in one of the city’s many evacuated buildings, the other leapfrogging over to advance. The aim was to force the Archeri to commit as many forces as possible.

In the next phase, a series of controlled collapses would be executed. Moving back, creating pockets of fire. Stretch the Archeri horde out as far as possible.

She rose from her seat, walking over to Torval and placing a hand on his shoulder. “The Empress has assigned me to the joint strike mission, so now that things have started rolling here, I pass command to you. Keep your eye on the big picture, make sure they don’t outflank or overwhelm you. My mission will depend on your success out here. Your survival depends on my mission. Remember that.”

Torval nodded, placing his fist over his shoulder in salute. “For the good of the Empire.”

“For the good of the Empire,” Creel and Milan repeated, before their holograms flickered out as each went off to attend to their own commands.

Putting in her helmet as she stepped outside the speeder, she headed towards the waiting shuttle, which would take her to the floating Exchange fortress called the Blind Eye.

[Rugs]

Locke tilted his head at the familiar voice that rang out from the floor above. An armored figure was approaching, helmet tucked under one arm, leaving free a familiar mess of dark hair. “Vance?” he asked below his breath, more to himself than anyone else in the room.

He couldn’t hold down a smile as Vance embraced him, and he returned the gesture. But neither could he still some worry at Vance’s appearance. The young man didn’t look as someone Vance’s age should’ve. HIs face was tired, smeared with blood and ash. His presence was weary.

Vance looked, to put it simply, like a man who was living through the worst of what war had to offer. And perhaps, Locke thought, thinking of Alderaan and Taris and all the horrors the former Jedi had seen before, he’d always been that.

But it tore at his heart to see this forced upon Vance. Again. To see this forced on them all, by an outside invader.

“What did we bring?” He asked, voice turning thoughtful. “A few thousand ships, a few million men, two dreadnoughts...” An explosion rumbled in the distance, shaking fingers of dust from the Eye’s ceiling. “It’ll have to be enough. There’s no second chance after this.”

Locke started to say something more, but stopped as an all-too-familiar presence drew near. Lidah, stepping from the lift.

He turned toward her, helmeted face hidden as his lips worked wordlessly at the sight of her. She was different now — thinner, more pale, sickly. The disease had taken its toll, yet, for all that, there she stood, ready to fight.

For all that, he still felt the same unyielding determination that was always there. She was still Lidah Faine, and Force help the Chorus if they ever thought to change that.

“Well, you know how bureaucracy is,” he said. “If the Archeri hadn’t overstepped at Bothawui and Af’El, we’d probably still be in transit to get over here.” He stepped forward, throwing his arms around her. For once, he didn’t care who saw, or what damage it did the facade they’d carefully built.

If they survived all of this, they could deal with it later.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he said. “Not a day has gone by that I haven’t hoped that we’d make it before it was too late. If wishes could push that damn ship through hyperspace, we’d have been here days ago.”

He held her a moment longer. It was the most of her he’d felt in months, yet dissatisfyingly impersonal, in a way, thanks to the armored suits that separated them. It would do for now — it’d have to. He let go, stepping back. There was still work to do — and a lot of it. As the Nikto returned, saying something about a shuttle approaching with “one of those Sith from the clinic,” Locke looked at Lidah and Vance.

“Now, what’s this about a dragon?”

[Neology]

”Careful, dear.” Lidah chuckled, returning the awkward embrace. There was little in the way of tactile feedback about it, just resistance against the motorized joints of her armor. Immobilization with a twinge of claustrophobia. Beneath the black glass of her helmet’s face plate, Lidah felt her eyes water. ”It’s okay.” The gauntlets were more delicate, designed with a certain amount of sensory input in mind. The interface between soldier and weapon -- or engineer and tool. She held Locke’s hand between both of hers. It wasn’t the same, but she could just about feel that, pressure through the tiny shaped plates of durasteel, sensorpads, and knit padding. ”Haven’t I mentioned it? You know, I’m sure I have.” The Blind Eye shook, dust falling on their heads. Glass shattered somewhere behind the bar. Lidah turned, watching the faces of her poor, shell shocked staff. Feeling for the edge of the dragon’s mind, she persuaded it to roar. The sound was distinct, even within the Eye’s armored walls. She dialed her helmet’s communications in to the mission channel. ”I had a lab on Vendaxa, where I turned the subtle arts of the darkside to a singularly unsubtle end. Something strong to keep me safe, and which other members of the Sanctum could never, ever get their hooks into.” Lidah shrugged. ”We found another way out, but now … I think he was born for this.” Strolling outside into the hazy twilight, she was met by the hunched and glowering form of Ashardalon, the last living specimen of the Arkanian dragon. Warped by Sith Alchemy, the creature was massive in size, peering down at the casino entrance with one deep red eye. The jaws parted, voicing a confused rumble that rattled Lidah’s bones. The dragon’s long neck stretched out, nostrils the size of her entire head flaring, bathing her suit in foggy condensation on the exhale. ”Yeah. It’s me.” She spared a sidelong glance for the arriving shuttle, which seemed to trail strange distortions from its lights in her altered state. Sith colors – presumably they knew not to interfere with Aurelius’ strange delivery. The presence within was not unfamiliar, nor was it entirely unexpected. Vance and Io’an had brought in two stray Sith some weeks ago, though illness and secrecy had kept her from seeking to make any personal overtures. Secrecy seemed damned useless now. ”Zarene. It’s ...” Lidah paused. It’s good to see you was less than exactly honest. ”May I introduce you to Tyrvast?”

[Fromikeable]

Locke's answer inspired a half smile from Vance. After all the talk, it seemed as though some action had finally been taken. The dreadnoughts in particular were noteworthy, though whether they were a good sign or not was up for debate. Clearly, the Empire and the Republic had both committed; those ships weren't moved for anything unworthy of their time. But each contained the firepower of an entire fleet in and of themselves. Each could glass a planet without help, destroy a city on a careless whisper. To think that the coalition had thought it necessary to throw both at the same target...

The fight to come would only get worse before it got better.

The thought almost made him miss Lidah's words from above, only noticing her in full when she came down and exacted the same hug tax he had. To see them both together again was what turned Vance's smile genuine, the first happy moment he'd experienced in days. Even as ramshod as it looked, the three of them in armor, the world around them invaded and sick and dying, his heart couldn't help but flutter.

They were together again, the weird little family that they were.

"I guess you never did meet him." The dragon had been such a large part of their lives as Sith, after all. He supposed they'd never brought it to a battlefield, and certainly never to any of the encounters Locke had found them on. "He's... well, you'll see." It was hard to describe meeting Ashardalon.

Joining Lidah outside, the wait proved to be short. The dragon's presence stuck out like a sore thumb against the Archeri, their serene, otherworldly calm battered at every moment by the encroaching wild, chaotic beast. Even in just the way it stood and stared, the way it inspected them, the carnal instincts on display were both savage and graceful, as if he had been born specifically to rip every living thing limb from limb. After it greeted its mother, it spared an eye for Vance, its large red retina lingering on him for a moment.

Vance debated whether or not it remembered him. He had never shared Lidah's propensity for animals, but if he had to guess, he might have thought it was looking for Hedrax.

Hopefully you'll get to see him later. The dragon's mighty eye blinked before it moved on.

Zarene's shuttle set down, and Vance offered her a nod of welcome as she approached.

[sparrow]

The Spire shall rise, and lead new voices into the song…. The voices echoed in her head as the shuttle approached the Exchange’s floating fortress. Shut up, she thought back. You will be silenced soon. But if the Chorus heard her, it gave no indication.

She looked about warily as she disembarked from the shuttle. There was a presence in the air that felt eerily familiar, but was one she couldn’t quite place. It was not a comfortable feeling.

But of all the things she had prepared for, a Sith dragon was not one of them. She could not help taking a step back in surprise as the massive beast landed near the entrance of the casino. The creature regarded her for a moment with blood red eyes before turning its attention to the others present.

She flinched as she finally recognized the presence. Novus.

It made no sense. Novus was supposed to be dead. The Empress was supposed to have executed her. But if she was still alive here… did the Empress know? She must have… but what was the purpose of the deception? What was Novus’s purpose? What was she doing here? A hundred questions ran through her mind.

But the same time, the pieces fit. Since arriving in Nar Shaddaa, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she had seen the fellow who called himself Thelonius before. And when she had resumed contact with Sith intel she had sent out some feelers. Apparently the man had been former Jedi as well as former Sith, as an apprentice to Novus no less, and had disappeared at roughly the same time Novus had been “executed.” How had someone of his temperament risen so quickly within the Exchange hierarchy. Well, there was the answer.

And then there was the third. Tyrvast. An alias most likely. And a Jedi, the Republic’s representative, it seemed. There was a familiarity in the way the three moved around each other. There was history there, which made Zarene the outsider in this little group. If things were to go south, she had little doubt who the first to be sacrificed would be….

She looked from one to the other, and then back again, deciding that the only way to react to this information dump was to show as little reaction as possible. “Thelonius, Tyrvast,... Novus,” she said finally, acknowledging each with a curt nod. “We should go over the plan again before proceeding.”

[Rugs]

For all that he might have cursed the armored suits a few moments ago, Locke found himself silently thankful that his face was at least covered. Lidah — or Novus, in her past life — had created a dragon? Or enhanced one?

Old habits returned the fore for a fleeting moment. Locke hadn’t been privy to all of the Republic’s intelligence, but as a Jedi — and one that often functioned as a behind-the-lines operative, at that — he’d seen a damn lot.

But as much as he stretched his memory, he couldn’t remember any reports of a Sith-created dragon. It was, in a way, disconcerting.

That particular strand of worry faded as quickly as it came. Lidah was far from an enemy now, and the dragon could prove a powerful new ally in the fight against the Archeri.

“If you’ve told me before I forgot,” he muttered as the beast came in to land with a whoosh of massive wings and a roar. Locke stood behind Lidah, and slightly behind Vance, as the dragon studied the group. It had two eyes, as normal, and a large, crimson one in the middle of its skull.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable as the dragon regarded him with that large eye for a long, unblinking moment. “Hello there,” he said, with a half-laugh and wave.

Locke turned as the Sith approached. He didn’t immediately recognize her, but Lidah seemed to. I suppose that’s not surprising, he thought. The Sith, Zarene, returned Lidah’s greeting and cemented that the two had at least some past history.

Memories of the Blind Auction, when that Zeltron Sith boy had thought to make some use of his prior knowledge of Lidas’ past. He began to tense but stopped himself.

What was there to gain from any of that here? The only thing any of them were likely concerned about was making it through the day without getting turned into mulch for spacefaring fungus people.

And this Zarene, at least, seemed more focused on getting to a business that causing a scene.

Locke glanced a Lidah for a moment and stepped.

“We should,” he said. “But, before that, I feel like it’s worth addressing...” A pause, as he considered his next words. “You two obviously know each other.” Locke motioned from Zarene and Lidah and back. He thought, briefly, to mention add Vance to that--it seemed a reasonable enough assumption, given the boy’s time in the Sith under Lidah’s wing--but Lidah had used his Exchange alias and Vance’s secrets weren’t Locke’s to share.

“I don’t know what the hell is waiting for us down in that pit, but I’m gonna be trusting my life to all of you, and you’ll be doing the same with me,” he said. “Normally, I’m not one to do this, but given the circumstances...”

He paused again for a long, thoughtful moment, and turned to Zarene. “My name is Locke,” he said simply. “I’m a Jedi.” He smiled beneath his opaque mask. “But you probably figured that out. If we’re going down into that hell pit, I’m going as who I am, not as a lie.”

[Neology]

“It’s just Lidah now. Please.” She thought it probably best to distance herself from her Sith name at the first chance. Renata would not like to hear of her putting on airs – were it to reach back to her from here. A dubious honor it might seem now, but nevertheless, a Sith name was supposed to signal something. Ambition and loyalty and whatever else it took to claim it, in an Empire that had changed dramatically in the eight years Novus had been dead. As Locke made his introductions, Lidah summoned a small medical droid from within the Eye and took blood and tissue samples from the dragon. Reviving the species was a work close to her heart, that she might pick back up if only, if only … The string of if onlys would be longer than her arm, if she allowed that line of thought to go on. The beast grumbled and complained as it was poked and prodded, swabbed and biopsied. Thankfully it limited itself to only vocal objections. Locke giving Zarene his real name seemed quite the gesture … And terribly unwise. Lidah squirmed at the thought of that tidbit making it back to the Empress. Another handle to hurt her with at some indefinite future point. ”I’ve been trying to stay out of the planning whenever possible. Didn’t want anyone listening in.” That sounded crazy, she knew. But once you got sick, the Chorus could slip subtly into even a powerful telepath’s mind – or crush it utterly, if it chose to focus its strength. ”But in the broad strokes, we stop that second spire. Ideally before it can launch and cook everybody in the sublevels – and without bombarding the moon and the billions who live here into molten glass.” Someone had to be considering that particular nightmare scenario, at high levels of Imperial or Republic command. Janus would have done it, if it meant saving the rest of the Galaxy. He’d done it in miniature already. “I’m afraid Thel – Vance – knows more about our situation down here than I do, by now.” With some advance warning about the plague, her erstwhile apprentice had taken great pains to avoid infection. As much as it had seemed pointless at times, like trying to grapple the sea, if made him an ideal point of contact.

[Fromikeable]

Novus. The name rang through Vance's ears like a screech, making him wince. It still managed to surprise him despite the obvious signs. The dragon before them, the Sith armies (among the Republic ones, granted) running through the streets of Nar Shaddaa, the battle occurring in the sky above; they all heralded a change in the times, wherein almost seven years of desperately trying to bury their old names couldn't help but give way to necessity.

Not entirely, of course. But even the smallest crack in a sealed door could have the biggest effect.

Locke make the first gesture in return, throwing in with them in the pot of potential trouble down the road. The expression on Vance's face made his discomfort with the entire ordeal clear as Lidah confirmed Zarene's suspicions, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed somewhere between a trying smile and a prolonged wince. When Lidah said his name aloud, it was all he could do not to let his mind linger on it, his hesitation apparent.

"Uh... rrrrrrrright. Hi." He gave Zarene an awkward wave, debating what, if anything, he could add to their admission. Locke had been right about the need for trust, so what did he say to someone who had thought he'd been dead for half a decade?

"... um, yeah, the Pit." Electing to go with nothing until the more pressing matter at hand was dealt with, Vance cleared his throat. "Since the invasion started, the entire planet's turned into a warzone. Almost everyone's infected, almost everyone that's still alive and sane's barricaded themselves in any building they could find, and the Archeri are ripping anything that moves to shreds." Pointing a finger at the giant purple crystal in the distance, Vance took a quick breath, dismissing the last of his hesitation.

"The Pit itself is basically a stronghold by this point. Every since they started building it, it's had a major concentration of Archeri. Now that they're under attack, there's even more forming the Force barrier there. They've warped the nearby buildings, blocked streets-" He swirled his finger at the barrier in question, which encapsulated the exposed top of the crystal like the world's biggest purple-tinted egg. "Basically they've switched from the marauding horde that's occupied the moon for the last few weeks to an actual standing army."

"So basically, we need to punch a hole through, get in, and try to take the entire barrier down." Dropping his finger, Vance brought his other hand behind his back, reflexively trying to rub his neck through his armor.

"How we do that... well, I'm the dead apprentice here." It was almost easy to forget that between the four of them, Vance was the least experienced of the bunch.

[sparrow]

“Locke,” she said, repeating the name he had given. “If you have doubts regarding my commitment to this mission…” She reached up to her helmet to remove the faceplate, revealing her visage to him. Dark veins snaked up the side of her neck and creeping up her chin, thorned branches wrapping around the prosthetic implants on her cheek, the unmistaken signs of the Archeri plague in her system. “Then rest assured that this is a matter of life and death, which I take very seriously. As for the plan…”

______

A few hours ago…

“Lady Sagitta, the Empress has assigned you to the joint strike force for infiltrating and bringing down the barrier.”

Sitting in her hunched position, Zarene looked up at the envoy. “I will fight where I am ordered,” she said softly. “But with my illness and connection to the Chorus, the convertness of the assignment may be compromised. Perhaps someone in better health, like Torval or Milan…” She was still uncertain as what exactly her

The envoy cut her off. “The Empress’s orders are for you,” he replied, dropping a data chip in her hand. “A message from Her Radiance, to be opened once you have met with your Exchange and Republic counterparts, and not before.”

“Not before,” she repeated, acknowledging the order.

_____

She plugged the data chip into the projector table, which flickered to life, projecting a holographic image of the Empress herself. The recorded holo acknowledged her, as well as Novus, before fading from view, before being replaced with the figure of Admiral Merloff, one of the Sith’s chief officers in charge of research into the Archeri.

The Admiral pointed at a floating map of the pit area, containing the crystal structure protected by the barrier. “We believe the Force barrier to be generated a number of powerful Archeri within the Pit. While we don’t yet understand the exact workings of the barrier, we have observed the Archeri themselves able to pass through freely, as well as what appears to be infected individuals with some degree of attunement.”

“In order to bring down the barrier, it has been proposed to send a team to infiltrate the barrier as our main forces attempt to occupy the bulk of the Archeri's attention, and eliminate the Archeri generators within. The team will include an infected member with partial attunement…” Me, thought Zarene, So that’s why it had to be me, and the need for secrecy. Don’t want the Chorus to listen in too soon...

“... and we theorize that a powerful Force meld that combines the presences of the team members will allow them to, for a short period of time, appear as one being to the Archeri, granting the entire team access to the barrier…” And that must be why Novus is here… Theorize, he said. They don’t know if it will work. After all, how could they? Wonderful...

[Rugs]

Locke wondered, for a fleeting moment, what bit of expression might have flickered across Lidah’s face or through her mind at the reveal of his real name to the Sith. He knew the risk and the... uncomfortable ripples that could follow down the line from that flap of the butterfly’s wings. Perhaps it was unfair to her, to do the thing without first consulting.

But the flap was done, and he was dead serious about his desire for trust between the whole of the team. Three strong links meant nothing if the fourth crumbled when they needed it.

His jaw tightened as Zarene revealed her face. Clear, tell-tale signs of infection. He’d seen it — and its aftereffects, in the case of the Bright Horizon — too often. He nodded to her, the motion exaggerated slightly to convey clearly in his suit.

“Understood,” he said simply.

As the recording flickered to life, complete with a welcome to the Sith Lady and former Sith Lady from Darth Renata, he folded his arms — awkwardly — over his chest. The plan, the final details of which were only now snapping to place with the data chip’s delivery, made a certain amount of sense.

“We have gotten reports of the Archeri attempting to draw in the uninfected,” he started, giving Vance a sidelong glance. They were the team’s two uninfected members, though the Chorus seemed to have some sort of disdain for non-Archeri Force users. “By the same token, both Republic and Imperial intelligence has found that they hold a certain reverence for their partially-attuned victims.”

The partially-attuned — rotters, as the Galaxy’s less kind denizens had started to call them — were the ones that became the biomass necessary for Archeri reproduction. Without them, the plague, their conquest, all of it, would be for nothing.

“But,” he said, pressing his helmet’s chin to the knuckles of his gauntleted hand, “can we fool the Chorus like that?” He glanced at Lidah, seeking her input. I don’t see why not, he thought. But how long can it last?

“Regardless, once we’re in, we need to move as quickly as possible,” he said. “With their combined consciousness, once one of them realizes we’re up to no good, they’ll all know.” The combined assault on the second spire would see to keeping the Archeri from sending the whole of its swarming self after them but even so... Locke didn’t like the thought of getting trapped behind the lines with the Chorus seeking to crush them.

“Where does he come in to play, do you think?” Locke asked Lidah, with a motion of his head toward the dragon.

[Neology]

”By now, I wonder that anyone could stand under that star and feel less than wholly committed.” Lidah muttered, matching Zarene’s face to old memories and the eight years since Taris. Signs of partial attunement bore some superficial resemblance to darkside corruption, which would not have been a shock to see … Except for the those fibrous, plant-like growths. Oddly beautiful when juxtaposed with the Sith’s cybernetics. ”Especially those of our particulars talents.” Her gaze flickered to Vance. Jazen’s contribution to an attack on the Eye, just a few days ago, still weighed heavily on her mind. Yet it was really not the right time to distract Locke with that kind of news. He was more than a little like her, after all. And she would have chased down Vance if he’d been in Forte’s position. Or in Ylva’s. As to the plan … Lidah waved the droid away with the last of the samples, then ran a hand over her beast’s armored hide. Rough keeled scales scuffed the paint of her gauntlets. Subconsciously, she put the dragon’s bulk between herself and the image of the Empress. ”It may work. For a short time.” She nodded as Locke continued. There was, perhaps, a slim chance that Zarene might retain anonymity a bit long than the rest of them. Not that that would be of much use by itself. ”There are vast maintenance tunnels running throughout the city, beneath these topmost levels. Many disused. Several go right up to the pit itself – Forte and I scouted them before the invasion. Perhaps we could try our luck, and stage our ingress through one of these?” “Of course, our information is by now out of date ...” Lidah sighed and folded her hands to stop their moving, feeling she was overthinking the hivemind and its potential to spy on her conversation. If it was so inclined to access her thoughts, did it matter at all what she said? ”In any case, it would be nice to keep up the ruse until we’ve killed a few of them.” She glanced at Locke, finally returning to his question. ”And when the barrier is weaker, I will call Ashardalon to join our sortie. In whatever capacity seems most needful.” Diversion, or flight, or purely for the dragon’s great capacity for violence – it seemed unlikely that the creature would survive such desperate use. Yet by now to hold back one’s strength would be only to waste it.

[Fromikeable]

Vance couldn't help but tense a little at the hologram of the Empress, only feeling some slight relief when it turned out to be pre-recorded and brief. Vance had never even met the woman in person, but it didn't matter. The image of her holding a beaten, chained, restrained Novus before the collective aristocracy of the Empire, Novus taking what the galaxy would always consider to be her last breaths...

Even if it had been the best ruse in galactic history, it was still something Vance tried not to think about.

The plan that followed was a gambit. Locke's sidelong gaze was returned in reluctant affirmation; the Archeri had indeed been leading the defeated infected through their barrier without any trouble, not even dispatching bodies to guide or police the crowds. They had no reason to, he supposed. A mind broken to a hivemind was no longer its own being. That only became more true when they approached the Pit, jumping in just as the Exchange's scouts had watched for weeks now.

All the more reason they'd have to be quick once they were inside. A single step off the beaten path would make their individuality clear.

"Maybe if we brought..." Glancing back at the Blind Eye, Vance took a rough mental stock of what the Exchange had left in the way of specially-crafted assets. It had been weeks of fighting by this point; casualties had grown, ammo had been spent, and more. Most of his special preparations for the Chorus had been subjected to similar use, but if they pooled everything together...

He shrugged, sighing heavily. Everything he'd done had been for the sake of defense and survival. The counter-attack, he'd assumed, would rely on the invaders.

"We're just going to need to know exactly where to take down the barrier once we're in." Scratching a gloved finger at the side of his helmet, he shook his head gently. "From the minute we're discovered, every second will tick down our odds."

[sparrow]

She nodded as she replaced the faceplate of her helmet. “The information may be out of date,” she agreed, “But it can still be good if acted upon quickly enough. The tunnels do seem a good option.”

That was war, conditions ever-changing. Actions had to be decisive, hesitation was death. It was one of the first lessons she had learned about combat. A battle between armies or a lightsaber duel against a single opponent, it didn’t matter if you knew the right moves if you couldn’t execute with precision and speed.

“No one’s been inside the barrier before, so we can’t be certain what exactly is generating it or what we need to do to disable.” Maybe the Jedi will say something like “Trust the Force and let it guide you.” That might not be too far off actually.. “We’ll have to figure it out once we’re in. Worst case, we burn it all down to ash.”

The sound of the Chorus in her head sounded almost like laughter.

[Rugs]

Locke listened as the discussion progressed, one folded arm resting atop the other. He lifted his hand to his face, driven by the habitual urge to scratch at his beard while mulling the situation over, and blinked when his armored mask prevented the action. Right, he thought, of course.

“The undercity seems to be as good a way in as any,” he said, nodding to Lidah’s suggestion. “Most of the fighting so far has been in the higher levels and in the air.”

For all that Nar Shaddaa’s cityscape was a nightmare of a warzone, the lower levels were worse. Cramped, labyrinthine, dark — the military brass wouldn’t risk committing an excess of forces to those places, especially with the advantages they gave the spider-like Archeri.

“I might be wrong, but the Archeri use the Force for a lot of shit,” he said, pointing to the Spire towering above the city in the distance. Even from dozens of kilometers of away, the violet barrier surrounding the spire visibly rippled and warped as explosions blossomed against it. A brief split in the clouds of smoke smothering the air showed its sister, shining like a second sun amidst the chaotic battle above.

“All of us here know you can only do so much with the Force at once. “Locke looked back to Lidah, Vance, and Zarene. “Admittedly, I don’t know the Chorus’ limits, but from I’ve seen, and from what I can imagine you’ve seen,” he nodded to each of them in turn, “they seem to rely on those crystals pretty heavily.

“What if those play a role in how they’re projecting this barrier?” he said. “Like a bunch of focus points? Maybe if we can smash some of those, we can get the barrier weak enough for the coalition to break through.”

It was, of course, a guess, and little more. But the Archeri had fiercely defended their crystals in his own encounters with the beasts.

“Hey, uh... sorry to interrupt,” a voice drew Locke’s attention away from the group. A Herglic that Locke didn't recognize poked his large head around the corner. “Speeder’s ready for departure. Just uh... whenever you’re ready to head out. Fastest one we got left.”

[Neology]

”That all sounds as good as any other guess.” Lidah was, as ever, something like personally offended by their lack of any better information. Two superpowers and her own syndicate combined, and this was all they had. But it was impossible to meaningfully spy on the Chorus. It could not be infiltrated – and the Composer flaunted its ideology and plans at every chance, anyway. From her dreams to literally speaking to some of the more sensitive afflicted. At least she trusted everyone in this small team to be capable of a great deal of improvisation. While she’d never known Zarene well, Renata had evidently assigned her personally. As uncomfortable as that was … Well. At least it wasn’t Jession. ”Thank you, Reflex.” Lidah ushered the others into the Eye’s private hanger, its supply of luxury and paramilitary speeders much depleted in recent weeks. A single boxy vehicle waited in the center for them, a pair of engineers just finishing their pre-flight check. ”Mr. Aetoris is in command now, I suppose.” Strange. But Solari had proven himself so very unreliable – as had Ylva. And she had no idea where Janus was now, last seen dragged in out of the gutter some days ago. He had departed immediately to continue his fight, soon as he could get back on his feet. ”Let him know for me, will you? And also, that I’m pleased with what we’ve built this last year.” Lidah nodded once, awkwardly, and climbed into the speeder. Outside, the dragon warbled uncertainly. The waistworks, perpetually in near twilight, hosted vast solar mirrors and aquaponic farms. The speeder dipped down among them, all that life-enabling equipment grown desolate and quiet as the invasion progressed. Pitted and shattered, overgrown and choked with gray-and-violet Archeri fungus. They set down at the first powered utility hatch. Lidah climbed out and overrode the lock with a prepared programming spike. ”Well. Try to think mushroomy thoughts, right?” She stared through Zarene for a long moment, eyes unfocused. It was more complex than simply hiding them … A dull starburst of pain made it through the pleasant warmth of the endorphin-analog high. Moisture, copper and salt tasted on her lips – nosebleed. ”Map’s in here but, uhm, I’m gonna have to concentrate on this.” A few keystrokes at the panel downloaded the original plans for the tunnels. They were several centuries out of date, the Hutt kaijidic responsible for the maintenance of the waistworks long, long out of favor.

[Fromikeable]

Vance was second off of the ship after Lidah, battling a sense of unease he hadn't felt in years. It wasn't the invasion that did it; he'd fought for savage fights for less than his own survival with the Exchange. So had Lidah, and after so many years, they didn't earn full pauses. Consideration, sure, but there wasn't time to stop and consider them all.

No, it was the tunnel. Staring down into the opening that Lidah had opened, he couldn't help but wonder at how familiar it felt. Dark save for the occasional, almost complimentary emergency light glowing in a dull red tone. Bangs and shivers running the length of the metalwork, traveling past them on their way to oblivion. And at the end, machinations that could kill them all with one wrong move.

Maybe the last decade was all a lie. Maybe he was waking up from a vision in that Tarisian maintenance tunnel with nothing but a bump to show for his experiences.

Once upon a time, that would've been some sweet relief. Now he couldn't imagine a worse nightmare.

Glancing skyward, Vance looked at the lightshow filling the sky miles and miles above them. Even through the smoggy Nar Shaddaan atmosphere, the space battle raging over the planet was apparent. Off in the distance, a collection of ships plummeted out of orbit like meteors. The occasional explosion lit up the sky like a star. The only ships that could be made out with the naked eye swirled in a strange threeway dance, each glowing in their own way.

"Just leave everything else to us." Glancing at Lidah, he gave her a certain nod, even if his expression lacked the same confidence. Nevertheless, he was the first down the entrance, falling past the latter a few feet onto the bottom of the tunnel. The sound of his boots hitting metal echoed through the tunnel, but failed to do anything more. Hissing his saber to life for some green light, he looked both toward and away from their objective, the map flicking to life inside his helmet.

In one direction, darkness unperturbed.

In the other, barely visible from so far away, an eery purple glow.

[sparrow]

“Mushroomy thoughts…,” she muttered as she followed the others off the speeder near the entrance to the tunnels. Taking the last step onto the ground, she looked upwards towards the hazy sky, squinting at the streaks of smoke marking the path of plummeting ships, interspersed between flashes of blinding light.

The sound of distant explosions echoed in her ears like a dull disorienting drumbeat. In the distance, she could spy the top of the incomplete crystalline structure that formed the construction of the Spire peering over abandoned buildings of the surrounding city.

Flicker. The smooth surface of the completed Spire rose above the city like a bright beacon, shining brilliantly, its light piercing the fog, shining over all. Beautiful…

Wait, what? Her vision flickered again, the battle and incomplete Spire returning once more. This is what you struggle against, the voice in her head rumbled. A better world. A harmonious world.

She gritted her teeth, forcing the voice from her mind and she entered the tunnel. Slowly she drew one of her blasters from its holster with one hand, and kept her other hand on the hilt of her lightsaber, as she stared into the total darkness of the tunnel ahead.