Spirefall

[Rugs]

It was... strange returning to Nar Shaddaa’s underbelly.

Locke was no stranger to the place--he’d probably been born in the lower city, some thirty-some-odd years ago. He’d returned countless times; so many that the place could at times feel like a home away from Coruscant or the other Republic strongholds scattered across the Galaxy.

Still, for all the time he’d spent ferreting out ill intent among the endless maze that sprawled beneath Nar Shaddaa’s less than sparkling surface, he’d never seen the place quite like its current state.

The battle for the Y’toub system had dulled to distant thunder, rolling on and ever on with dull bass whoomps as something collapsed or exploded. The waistworks, disturbingly tranquil below the chaos, seemed entirely unperturbed by the hell raging above.

Locke frowned as he stepped out of the speeder. Powder, not unlike that his team had encountered aboard the Bright Horizon lay in splotches here and there along the ground. A think fungal root, emerging from the darkness and snaking on until it vanished in the other direction, clung to the wall above the hatch that hissed open at Lidah’s slicing spike.

“Gives me the willies,” he muttered under his breath, pausing at the panel to allow it to download to his suit’s systems. A white holographic overlay flickered to life in the right corner of his view, showing a dense network of tunnels that sprawled out every which way.

It faded out of view, both dimming as his suit’s system worked to plot a course through the twisting maze and going out of focus as Locke followed Zarene into the tunnel. He took up the rear, with Vance at the fore with his green lightsaber in hand.

“Straight ahead for a while,” he said, eyeing the yellow line highlighted on his HUD. “Assuming none of these tunnels have changed since whenever these maps were last updated.” Or that the fighting above hadn’t caused a collapse.

So on they pressed, into the pitch black. Water — Locke preferred not to guess at what might be in it — splashed softly with their steps. For all that the battle had thrown the Force up above into an indecipherable blend of confusion and noise, down here, the Archeri touch reined supreme. It was so thick, so pervasive that it felt nearly suffocating, and grew only more powerful as they advanced. Locke squinted, peering through the dark with what light his suit provided, feeling pressure at his temples.

He wondered, staring at Lidah and Zarene, if that was what the infection was like. How do they deal with this presence? he wondered Always there. Always watching...

As they neared a T-crossing in the tunnels, Locke spotted a brick laying at the water’s edge. Another followed, then more and more, giving way to a great pile of rubble that lay strewn across the path to the right, completely blocking access.

“Well,” he said, staring at the collapse, “that was our way forward. But...” he trailed off, eyeing the map as it scrolled across his vision, “if we follow the other path, we’ll come to a convergence and maintenance area. We can get back on the trail from there.”

[Fromikeable]

Walking through the tunnel felt like trying to walk through gelatin. Every step, every minute movement, every thought and emotion seemed to face an immense pressure, as if the Archeri were some giant balloon, and they were some intruding hand pressing to see how far they could get before it popped.

Vance didn't profess to know the answer, but he was willing to put money on the fact that they were probably being watched. Even if it weren't for the insults the Archeri seemed to reserve for Force-users, two of them were already infected. Perhaps the Chorus thought that Lidah and Zarene were leading the rest of them "home" to the Pitt to be infected?

Maybe it doesn't matter in the first place. For what reason would the shark fear the minnows?

Coming to the fork in their path, Vance was the first to see the collapsed remains of their desired route. Raising his saber to spread the light, the only thing that greeted him were green-bathed bricks and dust, the water below the collapse particularly murky. With a dash of optimism, Vance tried to sense beyond the bricks, hoping that they were a thin layer, that it would be easy enough to climb to the top and push on through.

When he could sense nothing but solid debris for meters in front of them, he sighed. "Maintenance area it is." Turning around, he began to lead them down the other tunnel. For another few minutes, they only had the sounds of travel for company, the sloshing of the water beneath them, the groans of the metal beyond, and the booms of battle far beyond. It was all Vance could do to keep his eyes locked straight ahead on the darkness, his saber humming steadily. It was with a final turn that the flood of emergency lights ahead welcomed them, the tunnel beginning to open up.

The maintenance area was a little too familiar to Vance. Their tunnel emptied into a circular room along with five others, forming a small sort of hub. The water they walked through flowed into a central pit, draining along with the rest to Force knew where. As the pit formed the crux of the center, walkways circled the room's outer edge, hanging from the walls.

Vance glanced down the center pit. Even with the city's infrastructure halted, the pipes still flowed enough water downward to cause a light roar. At the bottom, meters and meters down, he swore he could see a faint purple glow.

"Y'know, the last time I was in tunnels like these-" Biting his tongue, Vance waved a hand, raising his saber. "Nevermind." Deciding to swallow the thought, he walked up a small staircase to the area's main walkway, the metal grating clanging against his boots.

"Are you two... I don't know, feeling anything yet?" He glanced toward Zarene and Lidah. "I know that's a vague question, but I'm a little worried." He could barely stand the Chorus's current pressure. What it must be like for them, he didn't want to imagine.

[sparrow]

The echoes of the chorus seemed to shift as they ventured deeper into the tunnels, the cacophony of noise melding together, harmonizing, the voice becomes smoother, more inviting. They called to her, urging her to come closer…

A layer of dust, or was it spores, floated in the air, a luminescent violet haze. Is this real? Am I seeing things? Another illusion? The air felt heavier. Her head felt like it was full of cotton balls, and the swelling thrum of the Chorus dulled her senses. Behind her helmet, she scrunched up her face to try to regain some clarity, but to no avail.

There was a sharp sting in her shoulder area as she activated the dispenser in the arm, the first vial of chemical concoction being injected directly into her system, burning through her veins like liquid flame. Her heartbeat spiked and her eyes shot wide as the world snapped from fuzzy to extreme focus before settling at a new equilibrium. That’s… powerful stuff, she thought as she took a moment to catch her breath. Hopefully it lasts…

They stood over the edge of the circular pit, the water from the various pipes flowing down to converge within. The Chorus, temporarily held at bay in her head, began slowly rising once more. She glanced at Vance, and then back towards the pit, at the water that flowed downwards, before parting over a faint shimmering sheet of purple light.

“The barrier…” she murmured. “They want me to cross,... to enter the pit… I…” The voices swelled, calling to her. The injected medicine gave her the clarity to know that they thoughts were not her own, but their pull was strong all the same.

[Rugs]

Brun-Tak leaned against a half-carved crystalline door threshold deep in the new Spire’s belly. The Chorus was mad with activity, as the Republic and Empire pressed from all sides to contain them. The Weequay finished checking his rifle’s power pack and slid it into place with a satisfying click. Well, as far as he was concerned, the Republic and Empire hadn’t done a damn thing, and that wouldn’t change.

Too late to the party. The Chorus was too entrenched, the Spire — in orbit, dueling the superpowers’ flagships — was too powerful. And what they don’t know, he thought, exposing his yellowing teeth in a wicked grin as he stood and walked to a viewport that’d been carved out of the crystal’s superstructure, is that this baby is ready to go.

The new spire wasn’t ready for the fight above, against the coalition’s combined fleets. But if — by some fluke — the ground assault pierced the impregnable barrier surrounding the titan of a ship, it could take to the skies, safely beyond the reach of the armies attempting to encircle it from below.

All the Chorus needed was time. As soon as the Spire and its escort fleet dealt with the challengers above, it would fire, and bathe this wretched world in the Chorus’ purifying light. The violet outside the ship rippled and pulsed from the coalition’s onslaught. But it showed no sign of dimming or dying.

It is inevitable, he thought. Or was that the Chorus? Every passing day made it harder to tell. Our victory will be unquestioned. He slipped the rifle, with its long, narrow barrel, into a strap that lay across his shoulders and back.

”And those who have opposed us will know our wrath.”

Brun-Tak grinned at the finality of the Chorus’ tone and slipped away into the ship.

---

Locke heard the roar of water flowing into the pit before they reached it. The team emerged from the cramped, dark tunnel into a large, circular area where the flow from several lines merged.

He approached the walkway’s edge and, after testing whether the thin, rusting safety railing that ran the circumference could withstand some weight from his leaning, peered into the darkness. The water tumbled down and down, countless stories into the city world’s darkest depths.

So great was the fall that the water should have, by all rights, disappeared into the darkness. But, far down, he could see the faint violet glow of a Force barrier. The water flowed across it, pooling at the pit’s edges. In the dim light, Locke could see a square platform, with railing along the sides on the pit’s far side.

“Maintenance lift,” Locke said, pointing at it. He walked toward it, leading the group to stand on it. The metal was as rusted as everything else in the pit. Locke poked at the controls, which offered no response until he slapped them with his open palm.

That they only flickered dimly to life did little to inspire confidence in Locke. “Well,” he said, “I think this is our only way down.” His gaze lingered on Zarene was she muttered something about the Chorus. As he turned around, he gave Lidah a look, wondering how she was holding up so near to the Second Spire.

“If they want us, this is the way.” The lift jolted to motion, long dissued metal squealing in protest.

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

The last time. Tunnels like these … Lidah trailed along, head canted at an odd angle to drain the blood from her nose down her throat. Her chin and lips were starting to dry, maddeningly itchy. ”I remember. Missed our extraction point, had to go deep underground because someone decided to firebomb the surface.” Her voice came out hoarse and sticky. Taris had been the very worst thing, in her mind, for so very long. When had that changed? She hadn’t marked it, exactly. Total aggregate destruction balanced against evils personally committed ... ”Still sorry, Vee.” They’d been separated after the confrontation with Levin. She probably should have killed him. They were forced to backtrack. The dark wasn’t so bad, but the back and forth stung her eyes. She felt the others cast about with their senses, complicating her efforts to mask their presence. Something like trying to catch the rain with a soup ladle – Lidah went a little cross eyed with the effort, staring at her armored boots. The water led their new path down. She wondered where it came from. Leak in the waistworks, aquaponics, the fat black salamanders that thrived in the tanks which were culled once a season – and all gone now. Freshwater line or sewage. In any case, she was glad not to smell it. Lidah set her feet apart for stability and stood at the center of the lift. “Stay close.” Locke, at least, could conceal his presence in the Force. She held on to Vance’s arm.

[Fromikeable]

"Still not your fault." Taris would never leave Vance's memories. It had taken more than a while for him to accept that it would be something he would carry for the rest of his life. All the images of burning and blood and ruin and death. All the sounds of screaming and crumbling and electricity. All the sensations of pain. None of it would ever be justified. None of it could be pegged on a single action or person, no matter how hard he might have tried. By the Force, had he tried, his mind in the weeks and months afterward trying every possible avenue to channel the grief.

"That was on all of us." The planet was no more thanks to the actions of everyone who had been there. No one, not even the most innocent of them, had walked away without someone's blood on their hands. It was a strange comfort the Archeri could at least offer, that clear and concise enemy to damn and point to.

No matter the transgressions of the galaxy, the Chorus seemed almost giddy in its horrors.

As they boarded the lift, Vance gave his arm freely to Lidah, letting her hold it for what he assumed was stability. As the floor beneath them began to descend with the grace of a drugged acklay, he couldn't help but peer through it as the sight below. With every squeak of the lift's machinery, the purple barrier far below them grew a little brighter, the water pooling atop it casting shimmers and effects through the shine.

For a few seconds, he almost forgot what it was, staring with awe. It wasn’t until the lift was seconds away from the water atop it that he seemed to come to, shaking his head. Standing up a little straighter, he cleared his throat, placing a hand on Lidah’s arm and sucking in his presence as close as it would come. He unwittingly did the same with his breath, filling his lungs and waiting with literally baited breath.

Please let this work.

[Rugs]

“We all have our sins,” Locke said quietly at Lidah’s mention of the Republic’s firebombing of Taris’ surface. It had been a failed attempt to control the Rakghoul outbreak — one that he ordered. For all the death and destruction it had caused, it did little to stymie the beasts’ rampage. Taris was as wild and untamed a rock now as it would have been without Locke’s ploy.

It just had some burns and charred corpses to commemorate the battle now. He had come to peace with it, in a way. It was the only way to keep going, after the war's countless horrors.

But the scars remain. And he could only imagine the weight they bore on Lidah's soul, or on Vance’s.

Taris. Alderaan. Muunilinst. Every one of them in the group surely had sins they carried — things they might wish to change, if given the chance. Locke could only wonder, with a sideways glance as the lift carried on, screeching and in fits of unsteady motion, what catastrophes Zarene carried out or had lent a hand to.

Yet even their own transgressions paled against the horrors their own nations committed, in the name of security and safety. Locke’s stomach twisted at the atrocities he’d his own Republic commit on Bothawui only a few weeks prior.

“Perhaps what we do today can offer some repentance,” he muttered, bitter.

The violet barrier grew ever nearer. Locke pressed his feelings from his mind, not wanting to make the work Zarene and Lidah had to do any more difficult. He drew his presence in on itself, hiding away in the depths of the Force as he felt the Archeri’s presence wash over them.

The lift breached the water’s surface. Locke looked at Lidah and nodded as they sank below the water’s surface.

Then they started to slip through the barrier.

[sparrow]

She stepped onto the lift with the others, placing a hand on one of the railings for support. She could feel the presence of the others through the Force. As the lift descended, they seemed to converge around her, their emotions flowing into her head, mixing with her own.

So how is this supposed to go? she thought. Do we need to hold hands?

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Time to see if theory aligns with reality… This had better work. Fear. Anxiety. Apprehension. She could feel her hand tremble slightly.

Breathe. Focus. There is no emotion, there is…

Wait. Where did that come from?

Anger. Channel it. Focus it into purpose…

As the lift lowered and she slipped through the barrier, she could feel a rising level of cold permeating through her body, from her legs, through her torso, towards her head. As it rose past her eyes and ears, the song of the Chorus filled her with a sudden unnaturally soothing calm. Welcome home, child.

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

”It’s been over eight years.” Lidah stared fixedly at the dirty water lapping over her magboots, her knees, her hips. Buoyed uncomfortably against Vance by the current, a click of her heels clamped her feet to the lift. ”We live, I’m calling it all pretty much even.” She tried to smile for Locke, though of course he could not see it. What had happened to him? She wanted badly just to talk, but there had been no time. There never was enough time. And this was not the time, not at all. Lidah focused on Zarene, unconsciously matching her breath, her stance. It was an uncomfortable thing, becoming a mirror and not a shadow. But in subtle ways, the Chorus had made her stronger, too. Her thoughts and feeling compressed down to the barest whisper, letting the constant buzz of the Chorus wash in like the tide. As the water closed over her head, she could make out the radiance beneath them. She felt another’s foreign senses licking over them, cursory, made impatient by the battle far above. After a tense moment, the barrier opened. It admitted them and a rush of disgusting water, then closed again over their heads. It was like a kilick hive inside, a honeycomb of glowing quartz-like crystal and tunnels, with thready fungal bridges connecting to the duracrete and steel of the original structure. The Archeri were in it and climbing on it, moving about with seemed like great industry, although she could not discern their purpose at a glance. Perhaps, if she listened closely … Frowning at the thought, Lidah swayed on her feet and let Vance lead her. Her grip on his wrist was deceptively strong. Through her efforts, the blind Archeri would mistake the four of them for two. So she hoped.

[Fromikeable]

The way the barrier opened only made the sensation in the Force that much more appropriate. Vance couldn't help but shudder as he felt like his entire presence was being swallowed, Lidah and Zarene's efforts preventing the worst of the pressure. Even as the barrier closed off above them, he couldn't help but stay deathly still, his hand gripping Lidah's arm a little more firmly than he'd meant to.

When the lift jostled a stop, he opened eyes he hadn't been aware he'd closed. The sight that greeted him made his breathing slow and deliberate, the hive of Archeri moving before them without a care. Putting aside his trepidation at being so close to the thing that he had fought for weeks now, he'd never seen them so close while still alive. Their skin (if you could call it that) flaked and dusted with powder-like spores, their faces only a series of holes, each identical...

He didn't dare speak of his wonder. Honestly, he didn't dare speak of anything at the moment.

Steeling himself, Vance took a very careful, calculated step forward, leading them all off the lift. Keeping Lidah close, he did his best to keep her steady as they began to make slow progress across the uneven, overgrown ground. Each step caused the purple lights flooding the tunnel to dance across their faces, the fungoids around them scurrying to and fro with a calm but active efficiency. Their actions were deliberate, the motions of each a focused, swift effort, less like the individual movements of a swarm and more like the coordinated strokes and prods of many fingers across a console. Crystals were shuffled, biomass deposited, places traded...

Until suddenly everything started to slow down.

Every Archeri in the tunnel gradually came to a stand-still. Slim arms paused mid-task as every fungoid looked like a droid losing power, their bodies grinding to a halt. A few Archeri dropped from the ceiling, slowly relaxing on the floor when they landed. A few dropped crystals. Many stopped mid-step, their legs still raised. The smothering presence of the Chorus seemed to double, causing Vance to gasp lightly for air. The Force around them seemed to twinge with anxiety as the last of them ground to a halt.

Each and every member of the Chorus, however, turned their heads down the tunnel toward their destination.

Vance's presence only expanded enough to tap the rest of the party's, adjusting his arm to make sure Lidah was still steady. Uhm...

[Rugs]

“Yea,” Locke said to Lidah as the lift drifted below the barrie. He turned to her as they descended, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I can agree to that.”

A shudder ran through him, feet to head and back again, as they slipped through the violet barrier. The sensation was quite unlike anything he’d ever felt, but he could only assume their passage itself was a signal of the Chorus’ acceptance. Better than getting stuck up there, he thought, turning a pondering glance to the water still pooled above their heads.

The Archeri hive below was a sight to behold. They’d turned the ruins of the undercity to a sprawling nest, with thousands of fungal walkways spanning the gaps between the wreckage. Some incorporated bits of broken duracrete and dustasteel into their structure. Locke thought he saw the remnants of a speeder wrapped in fungal tendrils.

Focus, Nemsee. Locke inhaled; he hadn’t realized until then he’d been holding his breath. Don’t go screwing it up now.

He took a wavering step forward, then another, as the group left the creaky old lift. Hundreds, thousands of Archeri scurried about like overgrown spiders. Far above, Locke saw one of the thick fungal roots, like aboard the Bright Horizon, with glowing purple crystals hanging like fruit from a tree limb. It took all he had to focus on keeping his presence concealed and his mind clear to aid in Lidah and Zarene’s task.

Locke glanced at Vance, ensuring that they were all heading in the same direction. With Lidah following Vance by touch, Locke kept an eye on Zarene in case she needed guidance. Yet the way ahead was an easy one — an enormous crystal wall loomed just ahead, stretching from the pit’s depths and miles into the sky.

What the hell? Locke’s brow furrowed as the Archeri abruptly stopped what they were doing and turned to the second Spire. They stood as one, still as corpses in a tomb as Locke felt Vance’s presence brush against him.

He shrugged, exaggerating the motion to carry through the armored suit as he stared.

”They think us defeated.” The voice, low and rumbling, boomed so loudly in his skull he thought he might have heard it speak aloud. The cavernous hive trembled with a sudden energy. “NO! We will yet rise as one! They cannot silence us!”

Locke, gritting his teeth from the pressure the voice exerted through the Force, turned slowly to look at Lidah. “What’s going on?” he dared to ask.

Then a scream and surge of white-hot pain, dulled only by his retreat from the Force — washed over him from the heavens above.

[sparrow]

She looked about as they entered the pit. Above them, Archeri scurried about on a web of intricate walkways, seemingly a disorganized mass, but each individual moving with direction and purpose. Scattered among them were humanoid shapes, armored soldiers and Mandalorians, weapons held at the ready, Archeri thralls corrupted to their cause. She wondered briefly if the former Sith who called himself Lancer was among them, as she scanned the area for the focus crystals that the Jedi had mentioned that were believed to maintain the barrier.

Is this not better? the voice of the Chorus asked her. Is this not what you’ve wanted? A world with order? A world where all work together harmoniously, where all belong?

“Some of that maybe,” she muttered under her breath. “But not like this.” I’ve seen what happens to those infected like me. I won’t be deceived. Yet at the same time, she felt an irresistible pull towards the center of the pit, where the unturned infected would be processed. Her legs seemed to move on their own, as her body tentatively took a step forward.

Archeri dropped down from the walkways, turning their heads towards her companions, as if trying to make sense of who these others were. Everyone froze, each side staring at the other with unease.

A suddenly rumble overhead broke the silence. The Archeri quickly turned towards the towering Spire. The entire cavern seemed to tremble and shake.

The voice of the Chorus boomed louder than ever before, as if compensating for the earlier moment of quiet. We will yet rise as one! They cannot silence us! Zarene fell to her knees, hands instinctively covering her ears, an ineffective gesture. The presence of the others in her mind winked out, the connection severed by the sudden inrush of energy. White hot pain stabbed like little daggers into her forehead.

“Get out of my head, let me be,” she muttered, as the volume of the Chorus grew ever louder. “Stop it. Stop it. STOP!” She drew deeply upon the Force, and threw her arms outwards, as if pulling the daggers from her body and throwing them outwards, releasing a blast of telekinetic energy shot out in all directions.

[Fromikeable]

Vance's fears and anxieties disappeared under the searing, mind-rattling pain of the Chorus's cries. Barely managing to keep himself and Lidah upright, his free hand clawed at his helmet like a caged animal, only the barest instincts keeping him from peeling it off.

The cry rang for what felt like years, echoing through Vance's presence well after it had actually stopped. Regaining his senses at a cautious, borderline timid rate, Vance finally glanced at Lidah, then to Zarene. Seeing that she'd collapsed to her knees, he reached out his free hand, still panting lightly from the psychic assault.

"Hey, we need t-"

The blast of telekinetic energy knocked him off his feet, letting go of Lidah and stumbling backward. Grunting hard as he landed, Vance's hands found purchase behind him on the first solid objects he could find. Using them for leverage, he scrambled back up to his feet. Turning to see what he had hit, sharp-tipped arms shot forward at his armor, two bouncing off of his ribs while a third smashed into his helmet hard enough to snap his head away.

The Archeri he'd stumbled into screeched in rage. Then the next ten. Then the next hundred.

Gasping as he tried not to fall again, Vance winced through the pain and the new alarms blaring through his helmet. Looking through the crack the Archeri had left, his saber zipped to his hand as he took a stance. Green plasma hummed to life as more arms came soaring at him, the blade rising to meet them. With a single swing, each fell to the ground with red hot cuts, the Archeri's torso gaining a nice, deep carve into its middle, nearly chopped in half. Even as the creature failed to support its own weight, it flailed as it fell, unperturbed by the injuries.

Coughing lightly, Vance slapped his free hand to the crack in his helmet, head on a swivel. As more and more of the Archeris' heads snapped toward them, he quickly returned his saber to his belt, reached out a hand to grab Lidah's, and pulled.

"Run!"

[Rugs]

The scream rumbled through Locke’s mind with such fury that he felt as if he’d stuck his head inside a battlecruiser’s sublight engines. He clenched his teeth, and it was only through sheer force of will that he kept his eyes open as the scream and a power unlike any other he’d felt before — full of rage and sorrow and suffering — washed over him.

“What is happening?” He half-yelled through grit teeth.

It faded as soon as it started. Locke felt ripples echoing through the Force as he started to come to his senses. He looked to Lidah and, half-dazed, noticed Zarene was on the ground with Vance reaching toward her.

“Are you oka-”

Next Locke knew, he was on the ground — something had crunched wetly under his weight — staring up at fungal bridge that crossed a few dozen meters overhead. His head swam; he felt like he’d been punched in the gut after getting slapped in the face.

“Alright,” he said, sitting up with a groan. “If everyone is done trying to burst my eardrums I’d like to-”

There was an Archeri behind Vance, staring at him with an eyeless, pockmarked face. The young man had stumbled back into it.

“...shit.”

Locke dropped his concealment as the Archeri screamed. Others answered its call, but this was different than the overpowering blast that came before. It was the cry of a camp raising alarm of intruders.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Locke sprang to his feet, drawing on his lightsaber as he called on the Force for strength. The fog clouding his mind seemed to clear as he dashed back toward the group. As Vance grabbed Lidah’s hand, he pulled on Zarene’s arm.

“Come on,” he said, “we’ve got to go.”

A crystal, nestled in a disgusting protrusion of flesh and rot a level above and guarded by three Archeri that somehow looked bigger than the rest, glowed dimly a level or two above. Locke had no idea how they’d get there, with the bridges zigging every which way and the hive worked to a frenzy. But he knew in his bones that was where they needed to go. “There,” Locke called to Vance. “We have to get there!”

As the group started to move, Locke looked to Lidah. “LIdah...” he said. “I don’t know how you can do it, but if you can call that dragon, Force knows we might need it to get out of here alive.”

---

Brun-Tak wept silently. The Weequay slammed a fist against the crystal wall next to him. The Singing Spire, battling the Republic and Empire above, was no more. It felt like his soul shattered as the starship above cracked to pieces.

”We will triumph,” the Chorus said. The voice was as sure of itself as ever, but here, even in the middle of the new Spire it seemed... fainter. Weaker.

“Of course,” Brun-Tak said. “We will.”

”The events above have only delayed the inevitable,” the Chorus said. ”But our final victory must wait. We must prepare this vessel to soar to the heavens. Their forces are weakened, but they cannot find us here. They intend to silence us.”

“Right, yes,” Brun-Tak gazed morosely through the window.

”We have a final task for you, Brun-Tak.” The voice paused, thoughtful. ”Interlopers have arrived. You feel this, as we do. You must stop them.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” Brun-Tak growled. His lips pulled back in an animalistic snarl. His fists tightened until his knuckles hurt.

“Go, Brun-Tak,” the voice said as he stalked down the corridor. “Protect our song.”

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

Vance dragged her along, she caught flashes of blurry movement. The stark, austere beauty of the crystal spans and the horror in which it was all mired. Lost in concentration, it all passed over her like water. Until the keening. Lidah stumbled, biting two shallow holes into her own tongue. She strained for a handful of seconds to maintain their disguise and failed with a strangled, wet exhale. It didn’t matter now and it was a dizzy relief to stop trying. Zarene’s outburst sent her nerveless to the ground where she lay in the muck. Violence began near by, green light blending with the purple, melding into smokey gray. She only perceived the words of the Chorus in her dreams, but empathy drowned her. Lidah’s thoughts and disgust felt distant through the narcotic haze and they were nothing at all compared to the pain and confusion that saturated the very air, sparks in her vision. Grief that was not her own held her heart in a vice. Tears over spilled her eyes, leaving tracks in the blood on her face as the world suddenly wrenched upwards. Vance was there again, pulling her bodily along. Strange, the Archeri cared nothing for the dark side of the Force, but they had created such a wellspring of terror and suffering. A new thought snaked its way in as her eyes tracked up and up. Lidah triggered the emergency release on her left gauntlet and the heavy durasteel fell away in plated sections. Lightning steamed from her raised fingertips, cutting a smoking line across one of the aliens. She cast up along the wall, where it left a blacked rut in the crystal and set lengths of spongy rot aflame. It severed a Conductor’s forelimb with a sizzling pop. Then the three bestirred themselves, shifting to the other side of the platform and out of her sight. ”Oh rest assured, if we open the door and Ashardalon will come.” Now that she wasn’t focusing on hiding them, she could freely tap into the tight bundle of fury in the back of her mind. The Sith dragon had found a fight elsewhere, not far from the barrier. Violet crystal spines stuck in to his armored hide, leaking green ichor that burned where it fell. Lidah tried to hold on to that, the sharp pain and clear senses of her lost pet. She needed that now, as dearly as they might need his wings. Shrugging out of Vance’s grip, she drew one of her sabers and darted suddenly up the nearest crossing. Drawing on the Force for speed and strength, she took the first Archeri by surprise. It fell from the bridge in an eerie silence, alive but thrown off balance by a severed leg.

[Rugs]

“Well, let’s open the door, why don’t we?” Locke’s grin to Lidah was genuine, for all the hell breaking loose around them. The crystal, rotting enclosure now alfame, still hummed with violet energy. Locke could see a frenzied flailing of long limbs as the Conductors tried to quell the fire.

Lidah, freed of her task, took the vanguard and Locke, motioning with his yellow-orange lightsaber for Vance and Zarene to follow, as a tug of the Force brought his heavy blaster to his free hand, kept pace. As she knocked the first Archeri off, tumbling on and on through the countless levels below, Locke raised his palm. A light blue barrier, edges misted with Force energy, sprang to life above them like an oversized umbrella as a hail of crystals came screaming down from above. The crystals shattered against the shield, leaving puffs of spores that lingered in the air after it dissipated.

An Archeri crashed down before them, shaking the fungal bridge that stretched over the chasm. Locke ducked under Lidah’s pale blue saber and fired two shots--one to the chest and one to the head, staggering it briefly. A blur of blue split the creature in at its midsection. As Locke rebounded, he took hold of the crippled Archeri, hurling both halfs up as another one came vaulting up from a bridge below them.

The impact jostled the Archeri, which fell clumsily down with the remains of its fallen brother.

On they fought, in tandem across the bridge, trusting Zarene and Vance to fend of the horde pressing at them from behind. With every step, the Chorus’ presence grew more enraged, more oppressive, as the hive stirred to a frenzy to stop them. They reached a platform — shattered duracrete held together with a web of growth and decaying biomass — and pressed up another crossing, to the crystal with the three conductors arrayed protectively before it.

Locke felt a crystal shatter against his armor as he finished cutting the legs from beneath one Arhceri and shoving it off the side. He staggered back, teeth clenched against the hammer impact at his side. The suit’s systems screamed warnings at him, but the plating was dented, not broken. dund, lightsaber searing a trail through the air, and saw an opportunity.

A gap between two of the Conductors. Narrow, but just wide enough... He flipped a switch on his pistol and held the trigger. A ball of plasma, angry and red, began to glow near the barrel.

“I’m donna do something real stupid,” he muttered to Lidah. “Cover me.”

The pistol whined now — a high-pitched sound that was annoying even through his suit’s dampers — as he raised it. He released the trigger and the overcharged blast — larger than a normal shot — screeched through the air. It slammed into the foremost conductor, which howled through the Force in a mad fury.

Locke, ignoring the steam hissing from his pistol, brought his other hand forward and hurled his lightsaber. It flew end-over-end, guided by the Force, between the Conductors until the blade buried itself into the crystal.

The violet crystal hissed and steamed, with Locke’s lightsaber just a hand’s width below the black scar Lidah’s lightning had left.

Slowly, the deep, vibrant violet glow that welled from within the crystal started turning red. The Force barrier, emitted like a funnel that grew wider from the crystal’s tip, began to flicker.

[sparrow]

“Come on, we’ve got to go.” The Jedi tugged at her arm. The sound of the Chorus in her head seemed to have subsided somewhat in comparison to its earlier crescendo. The battle above against the Spire, the troops on the ground, perhaps they were having an effect. Whatever it was, the door was open. Now was the time to act.

She nodded, swallowing the taste of blood in her mouth. “This is not how I die,” she whispered to herself, steeling her resolve. “This is not how it happens.” The pain from the Archeri infection would feed her rage. Her rage would give her power.

Novus and the Jedi surged forward, the forming sending lances of lightning into the Archeri ranks, the latter attacking with lightsaber and blaster. Her own twin heavy blasters leaped into her waiting hands from their holsters, and she sent a pair of bolts into the closest of the Archeri who were advancing from behind them on the bridge. The Archeri’s body tumbled backwards, its head enveloped in an explosion of light.

She leaped onto a nearby ledge for a better vantage on the bridge on which they fought, and with her Force-aided aim, her blasters continued to sing. Not every shot was a direct hit, and it took nothing less to kill the creatures. But glancing bolts still severed clawed arms, sending plates of chitinous armor into the air.

A tingle in the back of her neck was her only warning she instinctively leaped back to the bridge where the rest of the party fought, one of the Archeri crashing into the ledge where she had been standing moments later. It extended its spiked arms, shooting out a volley of sharp crystals. Most ricocheted off her armor, but she grunted as she felt a sudden stinging sensation in her side, as one found a gap between the plates. Clenching her teeth, she made a flicking motion with one of arms, and her lightsaber leaped from her belt, activating with a snap-hiss as it spun through the air towards her attacker, cleaving the Archeri in half. The spinning blade of icy blue continued its wide arc, finding another Archeri along the way, before looping back around to her and shooting out again like a comet. Another telekinetic flow pulled the spike out from her torso, the wound stinging as it exited, the gel underlayer of her armor flowing to cover the cut.

“Thelonius,” she growled into her comm. “I have this side covered. Finish the crystal.”

[Fromikeable]

As Lidah took point with Locke, Vance fell behind them, a hand still clapped over the leak in his helmet, the other clutching to his saber as he acted their rear-guard with Zarene. Their charge was less a valorous push and more a necessary retreat forward; four people versus the core of the Archeri horde. The collective assaulted them from every side as they entered the chamber at large, Archeri charging them from every direction. Vance could only focus on the basics; keep Locke and Lidah before him, Zarene at his side, and the Archeri behind him with every swing and push.

The rest of the world melted away, lost to the overriding instinct to survive.

Vance could hardly make out the Conductors in all the chaos. When Zarene leaped away to take stock, his world shrank further, saber humming in activity as its glow green dispensed dismemberment with every movement. The sounds of lightning and blaster-fire only registered in the half-second lulls between opponents. It was only when Zarene returned, saber snapping to life and flying, that he dared to look at the damage that had been caused.

He couldn't help but glance upward from Locke's lodged saber and Lidah's electrical scoring. They'd told him this crystal was huge, but...

"I have this side covered. Finish the crystal.” Blinking when his alias finally registered, Vance turned back to the rear, mind racing as he helped fend off another assault. After a precious few seconds, he murmured in quiet wonder. "Finish the crystal, finish the crystal..." Whispering a few final repetitions as his saber danced, his mind finally came up with a plan.

"Ok, ok!" Breaking rank, Vance turned on his heel and charged forward. The three Conductors before him roared in defiance as he bore down on them, one still reeling from Locke's bolt, another still adjusting to the loss of its limb. The third remained the most spry, stabbing forward at Vance first, its arms only meeting glowing green plasma. As the other two joined the assault, Vance was literally pushing past them, hands set to each of the weakened foes and shoving them back. Each snarled with shrill rage, but with his opening made, Vance called upon the Force as he planted both feet and jumped.

Rocketing off the ground, he soared up, up, up toward the crystal. As he began to arc back down, he set his hands and feet forward, the side of the crystal's bottom zooming toward him. With a rough grunt, he slammed into the side, free hand scrambling for the buried hilt of Locke's saber. After a terrifying second of gravity beginning to work, he found it, a single finger latching on quickly followed by the rest. From there, he yanked downward, yellow blade in one hand, green blade in the other.

For half a second, the saber refused to budge, too lodged in the crystal. But with another heave, it lurched. With the lurch, gravity began to take over, dragging Vance down and carving the saber through the material. The saber left a large cut just below the blackened rut, the surrounding crystal beginning to crack as stress found new avenues.

With a final heave, Vance flicked the yellow blade upward, ending the slice up through the cavity. Kicking off the side, he flicked off both sabers before stretching all of his free fingers, closing his eyes as he focused through the sensation of free-falling.

The Force surged into a very narrow, concentrated push. As it barreled into the crack, the lighting-induced scores tripled in width and length, the bottom of the crystal cracking as small pieces fell into the chasm below. The cut from Locke's saber grew in an instant from the length of a speeder to the length of a city block, marring what had been the flawless side of the crystal's bottom.

The Chorus roared. The crystal's glow darkened to an almost blood-like crimson. And the purple barrier fell apart, receding section by section until almost nothing remained.

Landing on his side on the other side of the Conductors, Vance made a scramble to get up, throwing arm cocked with Locke's saber ready to chuck it back to him. Such ideas were dashed when a Force-imbued fist came hooking around from his other side, smashing into the seal of his helmet and sending him face-first back into the rot-ridden floor. The remaining glass on his helmet shattered on impact, causing Vance to holler in pain and gasp in shock at once. Neither action kept the spores from flooding his lungs, prompting a violent set of coughs through bloody, glass-cut lips.

Looking up with blurry vision, he readied himself as Brun-Tak prepared another punch, the collective's fury etched across his face.

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

Some things hadn’t changed: the familiar tempo of combat with Locke at her back. It was reassuring in a way that clever quips and worried smiles could not quite match. More honest than all that careful treading around one another. Yet having lain so long in her sickbed, Lidah had lost much of her previous conditioning. She drew heavily on the Force to make up for her lack, breath coming short through a fixed grim. They had not the time to ensure that they killed each heavily armored Archeri. Instead, she focused on driving them back with aggressive slashes of her saber and curtains of lightning. “I’m gonna do something real stupid ...” ”Oh, good.” Lidah panted, flexing her free hand. Surface burns stung beneath the smoldering gray underarmor wherever the wiring ran close to her skin. Her senses swept over Locke, quickly trying to assess the hit he’d taken. Not too bad, yet … A shadow swept overhead and Lidah caught a blow on her armored forearm. She shoved the creature back, where its fellows quickly crawled over and past. Ashardalon took to the air with a sudden roar, shedding clinging assailants two or three at a time. The dragon arrowed toward the second spire. Minutes later, the barrier gave way with the crystalline node in the spire’s belly. The Sith warbeast hit the structure shoulder first, consumed by a single-minded urge to reach its master. It dug deep rents with scrabbling claws and belched a mix of sticky noxious fuel and fire. In a span of moments, allied fighters saw the opening and swarmed the air like angry insects. The unfinished spire shook, an impact that traveled up through Lidah’s bones. She grit her teeth through the psychic recoil and turned her attention inward, looking through Ashardalon’s eyes for an exit. ”Shit. We need to go up, at least ...” She trailed off, unable to guess at how many levels that must be. She searched out Zarene by the flash of her saber, then Locke. The reverberations were near constant, they couldn’t stay for long. ”Where’s ...” She’d lost Vance in the muted fury of the crystal node’s destruction and now she sought him out through the Force. His pain was sharp, filling her with cold dread. Wordlessly, Lidah broke into a run.

[Rugs]

“How much can that fucking shield take?!”

An explosion echoed in the distance, over the roar of blaster cannons firing from the Coalition battery position. The ground shook as a massive Republic artillery cannon fired, sending a glowing ball of red plasma as large a man hurling through the air. It splashed against the violet shield in a sunburst of red and orange fire, followed seconds later by a whoompf that rattled Keicho Bynar’s teeth in his skull.

A Sith cannon, a ways down the battery, fired moments later, then another Republic one and on and on. Keicho thought it would be a wonder if he didn’t feel the tremors from the onslaught for the rest of his life, so intense was the shelling.

But the violet shield stood, rippling but unyielding.

“Might as well be shootin’ a damn mountain!” an officer yelled in a quiet moment between volleys. “For all the good this is doin!”

Keicho snorted. The Spire certainly had the size, rising out of the city and out of sight in the haze and smoke. But mountains cratered, at least. The Coalition, for the staggering firepower brought to bear on the grounded dreadnought, hadn’t left a scratch. “I dunno,” he said. “I think shootin’ a mountain would do more good.”

It could be worse, he supposed. At least they weren’t at the front, where soldiers were desperately fighting off Archeri counter attacks. He’d heard those... things could do horrible things to a person. But distance was a thin offer of safety; the Archeri had silenced another battery, a few kilometers west, about an hour ago.

“Hey!” An operator near one of the canons yelled suddenly. “What’s that? Look! The shield!”

A section of the shield wavered and flickered. It was faint at first, like lights flickering to stay on as power failed. Then, suddenly, it was gone. Blasts that would have met the impenetrable barrier only seconds earlier landed true against the Spire, knocking free showers of crystalline armor.

“There!” Keicho yelled across the battery’s comms. “Everyone target where the shield broke!” The canons were already starting to rotate. The adjustments were slight — the Spire was massive, so even a small break in the shield covered a lot of territory.

“Fire!”

Keicho almost thought the ground beneath him would give way as the battery fired as one. The big plasma shots raced through the air and tore into the side of the Spire. All around him, shells from other batteries followed suit.

And then, as if by a miracle, the shield around the rest of the spire began to flicker and fail, cascading out in both directions from the first break.
Keicho thought he could hear something — a roar piercing the bedlam. Great wings, dark against the night and the Spire’s violet superstructure, sent a chill down his spine. So those reports were true. He’d thought it crazy talk; but with everything else the Galaxy was coming to, maybe a dragon wasn’t the strangest of things.

Already, Coalition strike craft dove and zipped in a frenetic swarm around the Spire. With the barrier fallen, the colossus’ previously-silent defenses roared to life. Violet lasers — long, slender lances of energy — reached out from its surface to strike at the swarm. Explosions, along the Spire’s surface and in the air as some lasers struck true, shook the echoed across the battlefield.

“Get me on a line with the fleet,” he yelled at his comms officer. To the rest of the battery, he raised an open hand. “Fire at will!”

From miles around, artillery fire lit the twilight.

---

“How far up?” The ejected power pack from Locke’s pistol clattered wetly on the ground. He slapped another into its place and fired, staggering, but not stopping, an advancing Archeri. Up in the Spire could mean many things, with it towering into the clouds.

The spire shook, violently, raining flakes of broken crystal down around them. Locke heard a distant, echoing roar, from above. An Archeri swiped at him and he ducked, throwing the assailant back with a blast of the Force, followed with three shots from his pistol. “Can we meet him along the way?”

The Chorus pressed in at them from all sides. They were a tempting target, cornered near the ruined, flickering crystal, and without moving to limit the hive’s advance, they’d soon be overwhelmed.

A stab of pain, sudden and strong in the Force, snapped Locke’s attention away from assessing their situation. He turned his head and saw Vance, on the ground, with a Weequay bent over him with a fist pulled back to strike. Instantly, he could feel the Archeri taint radiating from the Weequay. As an Archeri landed behind him, Locke’s lips twisted into a snarl and he thrust his hand forward. The Force surged ahead, knocking the Weequay off of Vance and into the ruined crystal. Cracks spiderwebbed out from its surface where the Weequayhit.

With Lidah closing fast on Vance’s assailant, Locke turned to contend with the Archeri approaching him, just as a heavy limb slammed into his side and threw him bodily to the ground.

His vision swam. A sharp, stabbing pain burned as he inhaled. He was dimly aware of pinprick as his suit injected a stimulant. The Archeri loomed over him, roaring in the Force as the Spire trembled with another explosion.

In a moment of clarity, Locke extended his hand. His sunset orange blade flared to life as it zipped through the air, cutting the beat in two as it flew to his hand. Locke staggered to his feet, teeth clenched against the throbbing pain on his side.

“Zarene,” he growled across the comms, “help me hold these fuckers off. As soon as Thel is up, we’ve got to go.”

---

Brun-Tak kept a tenuous grasp on consciousness as he slumped against the ground. “Fucking Jedi,” he muttered, not quite sure if he’d said the words aloud or left them in his head. “Getting in the damn way.”

”Rise, Brun-Tak,” the Chorus said. The urging was calm, but left no room for argument. ”Your fight is not finished. Our victory is near.”

“Right,” he muttered. The Force flooded into him, more than he’d ever felt since the Chorus opened his eyes to it. He pushed to his feet, ignoring the blood he felt dripping from the back of his head.

He saw one of the infiltrators, sky blue lightsaber in hand, rushing at him. I’m not getting through this.

“We must all make sacrifices for the greater good.” The Chorus, for everything that had gone wrong, was soothing — a parent, comforting a child through hard times. ”To bring order to this Galaxy that knows none.”

“What is one life before the Chorus?” Brun-Tak said aloud. He didn’t know where his rifle was; it’d been lost, in the frenzy. It didn’t matter. His hand went to a pouch, wet with decayed biomass from the ground, at his waist.

”What is one voice without harmony?” The Chorus answered. ”Your voice will live on, Brun-Tak.”

One last time, the Weequay put on his lopsided, yellow-toothed grin. The Spire began to shake and rumble, but this was a steady thing that came from deep below, not the fighting above. Brun-Tak raised a hand, as if to stop the woman with the blue lightsaber.

In his other hand, he lifted a thermal detonator, his fist clenched around it. It was armed. Its beeping, counting down to detonation, seemed the loudest sound he’d ever heard.

Brun-Tak and the Chorus spoke as one.

“Forever.”