His comfort in knowing that Ari had successfully landed planetside was short lived when out of the stone enclosure wrapping around the circular base of the anti aircraft gun came three bronze battledroids. Their rifles were leveled straight at the Champion, one of them issuing a static command:
"Cease and desist under order of Voss-Ka protocol seven two five. Remove all weaponry a-" His dual bladed saber sung through the air as it slashed through the torsos of two, Yerbol dodging a series of bolts fired from the remaining droid before the saber returned to it's owner and running the third attacker through the head in the process. A triumphant smirk briefly crossed his features, stepping over the wreckage and into the same orifice where the droids had proceeded from. A narrow stairway of four steps led upward into a spherical shaped control room with buttons glowing at various intervals along with a computer panel directly opposite from the entranceway that had a continuous scroll of non-descript characters that would have made sense to a technician, but to a Force user who barely had experience firing a blaster rifle. He briefly examined the arc of mystifying technology before shrugging his shoulders and plunging one blade of his saber into the computer panel, sparks flinging upward and scorching the vibrating ceiling above. Nearly loosing his footing, the Champion dug his saber a bit further into the machinery before withdrawing and making a hasty retreat into a sheet of metal where the exit would have been. Sirens blared in the domicile which threatened to deafen the Champion, a similarly robotic voice proclaiming:
"Sabotage detected. Initiating self destruct sequence two point seven two." If that "sequence" wasn't present before, Yerbol had a gnawing feeling that Manus had ingratiated it somehow into the AA's programming to ensure that no one could tamper with the device.

Instinct kicked into high gear. The Champion thrust his arms forward in an attempt to dislodge the barrier, only creating a large dent. Another thrust, another dent, but no movement of the door itself. Grimacing, Yerbol stepped back as much as he could without potentially getting immolated by the sparks around him, closed his eyes and summoned whatever energy he could from the chaos within the control room before dashing forward, his entire body becoming a singular projectile, saber extended outward.

It wasn't but a few seconds later that he opened his eyes to find the outskirts of Voss Ka visible once more.
"Really?" He muttered with a disbelieving chuckle, looking behind him at the smoldering heap that was once a defense weapon for the Voss.
"HA!" He stood up, wobbling slightly as he regained his balance, turning his head back to Voss Ka to find that a certain spouse of his was approaching without a single singe mark or blemish; in fact, as she drew closer, it looked like she had encountered no trouble at all.

Of course she hadn't.

It was at that moment he realized that she had reached out to him through their bond to assure him of her triumph. Had he said anything in return? Judging by her smirk and remark about his carnage, he must have. Filing away the incident flagged with "review the potential ramifications of subconscious communication through their bond" in his mind, he agreed with their next plan of action and proceeded into the heart of Voss Ka. The signs of battle became more frequent as they marched ahead: Faceless, Voss, Alliance troopers and even a few other unfortunate civilians of various races were strewn across the fabled streets. To think that there was a purpose for all this mess. A shudder had to be suppressed when the duo came upon a scene straight out of a holo.

Cheriss and Voldon were holding off a group of Faceless and heavily armored droids with a kind of tactful precision that Yerbol could only envy. Cheriss' fluidity was complimented by Voldon's heavy handed saber style, which was currently applied to a Faceless who once had a head. As the Champions joined, Yerbol heard a zealous shout:
"DOWN! NOW!" Joining the fray meant complying with Voldon, who apparently had sensed a Faceless cloaked with a stealth generator and was ready to impale Yerbol on her saber. When the Champion dodged, it was his partner who sliced the murderer apart, Yerbol feeling the indignation clearly through their bond.

You know me, honey. Always the ladies man.

___

"You ask the impossible."
"Impossible?" Manus snickered at the thought, gaze piercing the trio of Mystics cross-legged on the floor.
"I didn't think was a word in your vocabulary. Your creed, after all, implies that all things are possible with the strands of fate."
"You misinterpret our words, our purpose as Mystics." Another spoke, a rare cracking of the voice audible.
"Your purpose..." He sunk to one knee, pointing at the three of them.
"Is to understand how time and fate intertwine is it not? Not only to understand, but to INTERPRET?" Silence.
"We're not getting anywhere with this." Soto complained, her arms folded over her ebony chestplate.
"Patience. The process of reaching back in time takes...effort, does it not?"
"We cannot reach bac-" Manus reached his right hand out, strangulating the throat of the protesting Mystic with a burst of Force.
"I did not spend months of my life scouring your putrid philosophical meanderings for NOTHING." He released his grip before continuing:
"You were trained to reach back into the past as a part of your initiation into the caste. I am asking very simply to locate where two people went, two very important people who could alter the fate of the galaxy and bring into existence a revolution for the Force, for the power YOU use." More silence.
"I see we will have to resort to extreme methods. Jean, leave us." Knowing not to question Manus, Jean stalked towards him, whispering in his ear:
"They fought through the first line of defense and are headed towards the temple." Manus nodded.
"Intercept them."

_____

Setting the macrobinoculars down, the boy quietly told the others laced into his frequency:
"They're coming up the main path. Order is to intercept at all costs." With equally quiet acknowledgements, the squadron of Faceless moved into position as Manus had instructed, perching themselves among the tops of the sloping hills that flanked the main road to the Temple. They would prove their skill today.

____

"The temple of Healing." Voldon flatly commented, wiping away sweat forming on his brow before pointing past the destruction that their battle had caused.
"The Mystics made their home there. Manus would have them cornered there in order to isolate them from the rest of the population. We make our way there."
"On foot? Exposed?" Yerbol protested, adding:
"Those hills look perfect for an ambush."
"Indeed. Which is why we're not taking the main road."
"What?"
"We'll have to go through the Nightmare lands."
"The what?"
"Nightmare lands. There's an underground series of caverns that connect the Nightmare lands to the Temple of Healing." Suspecting a follow up question, Voldon quickly added:
"Kira and I had to rescue the Mystics at the time from the corrupted planet core." Another addition:
"No time to recap. Just keep close."

The Champions wasted no time in leaping to the Elders’ aid, joining the fray in time to hear Voldon’s shout of warning. Thankfully they knew well enough to obey firsf and ask questions later, for if Yerbol hadn't he may have found himself skewered by the Faceless woman's lightsaber. As it was, she instead found herself meeting Aria's swift retribution. She couldn't stifle her smirk at his teasing remark, responding with:
Indeed, it would seem they can't help themselves can they?
She deactivated her lightsabers and turned to face Voldon and Cheriss, the last of the assailants for the time being dispatched and allowing the Qyaari to plot their next course of action. Aria couldn't suppress a surge of trepidation at the mention of the so-called “Nightmare Lands”, they didn't sound much like a place she would want to travel through, especially whilst being pursued.
“They won't be the last Faceless we see.” the Champion muttered, disdain clear in her tone as she made a sharp, sweeping gesture at the bodies scattered about their feet. “Manus will send more, and certainly lay traps, anything to stop us reaching the Temple.”
“Indeed.” Cheriss grunted, a cold indifference to her response present which Aria didn't much like. “But I doubt even they would idly follow us in there. Even the most experienced Darths or Masters would have balked before stepping into the Nightmare lands.”
Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t like the sound of this place, AT ALL. She commented absently to her partner, a sullen scowl painted over her brows. Out loud, she told the Elders:
“Then you’ll forgive me for not being too thrilled that WE have to do it.” Cheriss and Voldon turned in unison and fixed the protesting Champion with a withering glare that silenced her almost instantly. Further protest was not possible, as Cheriss and Voldon began to head in the direction of the Nightmare lands.
“Stay close and don’t wander off.” Cheriss warned them.
__________________________________

The...taint, was probably the closest word Aria could have used to describe it, that permeated from every inch of the Nightmare Lands was eerily palpable.
“No wonder nobody wants to come over here…” she muttered under her breath, though neither Cheriss nor Voldon seemed to pay the comment any mind or indeed acknowledge that they had heard it. An uncomfortable shiver crept down the Champion’s spine, subconsciously moving to walk a bit closer to Yerbol. This place gave her the creeps more than those Whispering Swamps she and her partner had traversed on Nuncata some months before in search of the True Sith Master, Renso. The constant feeling of being watched by some otherworldly presence, coupled with the occasional ghastly voice wailing on the breeze all served to set the Champion’s teeth on edge and spur her towards keeping up a very brisk pace for her tiny legs in order to keep pace with the two Elders and not fall behind.
Glancing over her shoulder at them, Cheriss growled a quiet warning to Yerbol and Aria:
“Don’t trust your eyes, or your ears...there are dark spirits in this place that have been known to drive even the most experienced Masters insane. Whatever they show you, it’s NOT real. As long as you remember that, you’ll be safe.”
No wonder they went mad, this place is like a boogeyman’s paradise....Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if we ran into the Sith Triumvirate or something else long lost to legends, at this point! Aria gulped, not voicing the statement out loud this time and instead speaking through their bond as she bit back a terrified squeal after she could have sworn she felt some kind of clawed hand grabbing at her cloak and trying to pull her away from the others.

Aria couldn’t help but notice, despite the air of confidence that she tried to project, that Cheriss walked far more upright than was usual, even for her, as if a metal rod was attached to her spine that prevented her from relaxing in any way.
“Howcome you know so much about this place, Cheriss?” Aria worked up the courage to
At first, Cheriss was silent and seemed reluctant to answer, but when Yerbol maintained his raised eyebrow and questioning gaze, the Elder sighed and responded.
“Like Voldon, I too travelled here once before, although for a different purpose altogether. Ironic, that to cure the demonic illusions plaguing my thoughts I would have to travel to a land filled with the very same spirits.” the Dathomirian scoffed loudly, shaking her head. “But your father told me it was the only way. Enough of that, though.” Cheriss admonished them quickly, noting the Champions’ sparked curiosity. “We don't have time for me to relay the entire anecdote....perhaps later.”
The tale was surprisingly new to Aria, neither Roan nor Cheriss had ever made mention of it to her before, perhaps for good reason. She could feel equal measures of shock and curiosity emanating from Yerbol through their bond as she felt herself.
Suddenly, her personality makes more sense. Yerbol commented, the tone of his thoughts something of a mixture between somber and amusement.
No kidding, must be scary...being controlled by spirits like that. An involuntary shiver crept down Aria's spine at the thought, though she turned her attention back to their current path, which still firmly led by Voldon, who forged onwards despite the myriad of ghastly images and sounds that the apparitions flung at the Qyaari. If she had been a few years younger, and less aware of the trickery that could be performed by such spirits, it would have been enough to reduce her to a blabbering mess, instead the Champion could simply choose to block out or ignore most of the sounds. The only issue it presented, however, was that it made it very difficult to discern which sounds came from the illusions and which ones indicated that they were being pursued by unsavoury characters. Therefore, the Qyaari were taken entirely by surprise when they rounded the next corner and found themselves hemmed in by a contingent of Faceless.

Voldon and Yerbol were quick to react, drawing their sabers and rushing forward to meet their assailants head-on, however Aria hesitated as she noticed Cheriss freeze momentarily, a measure of conflict appearing in the Elder’s eyes. It didn’t take long to figure out the reason behind Cheriss’ hesitation: while carrying a lightwhip as a weapon instead of a conventional lightsaber could often bear its advantages; shock and fear factor among one, although in such close quarters the wide damage radius provided by the long plasma string had the chance of injuring the other Qyaari as well as their enemies, it didn’t appear that was a chance the Dathomirian was willing to take.
“Cheriss!”
Drawing both her weapons, Aria activated the blades, keeping one firmly in her grasp while the other went spinning through the midsections of three of the Faceless who had attempted to head off the Elders, the blade retracting as its momentum slowed and the saber flew into Cheriss’ waiting outstretched hand. Aria found it rather strange to be fighting with only one lightsaber, the Champion almost under the illusion that her right side was entirely unprotected. Perhaps the spirits or whatever other beings inhabited this part of the land were helping to contribute to her disorientation, but whatever it was, it made the Champion’s movements slightly more choppy and uncoordinated than was usual for her. As she twisted out of range of one Faceless lightsaber and spun on her heels to deliver a counter-attack to another that got too close, Aria was caught off guard as a third Faceless girl appeared directly in her path, throwing the Champion backwards with far more force than Aria would have thought an inexperienced youngster should have had. Before Aria even had a chance to get her feet back underneath her again, a crushing weight slammed into her entire body and threw her to the ground once more, leaving her staring helplessly up into the eyes of her opponent while the girl stood and gloated silently over the Champion’s imminent demise. Aria simply met the Faceless’ gaze, keeping her expression impassive and refusing to show any signs of pain or any other sort of reaction, whilst trying to piece together a strategy to get herself out of this predicament. No matter what she tried, Aria could not seem to fight off the choking force that constricted every inch of her being….she couldn’t recall seeing such strength in the Force, not since her days at the academy on Korriban. The raw power displayed by acolytes who had finally reached breaking point over many long weeks of torment and humiliation at the hands of their instructors and finally exploded….even the most experienced Darths and Masters could not have matched it. Such power, if left untrained, could prove most dangerous.

Thinking on her feet, Aria had to react quickly in order to have any chance of throwing her opponent off guard (or giving Yerbol enough time to run to her aid...whichever one came first!), being more diminutive in stature than the Faceless girl, and although more powerful by virtue of her experience provided by duelling Sith Lords and stopping not one, but two, mass genocides, Aria’s own skill was apparently no match for the untamed, raw power in these Faceless recruits, left unchecked by Manus’ ludicrous training regime. No, she would have to play different cards this time. Cards she hadn’t played in a VERY long time. But desperate times called for desperate measures….
“Look, sweetheart...you’re cute and all, but you’re really not my type and my husband’s right over there, so d’you think you could let me go?” the Faceless’ reaction was instantaneous, the murderous rage radiating from her in waves transforming to disgust as the crushing grip loosened enough to allow the Champion to move.
“You know….every time we leave the dogs at home, we get in trouble….” Aria grunted, a swift kick to her opponent’s shoulder knocking her lightsaber from her grip and sending her flying backwards before she could deliver a killing blow, allowing Yerbol to come to his wife’s rescue and shove the Faceless away with a powerful Force push. Aria dispatched the attacker with a quick gesture of a hand which snapped her neck instantly. “I think we should stop leaving them at home!” the Champion concluded as she took his offered hand and let Yerbol help her back to her feet again, dusting her robes off.
Yerbol smirked in agreement, taking a moment to look her over in concern.
“Are you hurt?”
Aria grimaced uncomfortably, feeling more than one of her joints crack in protest as she held out a hand to recall her discarded lightsaber. “She was trying to crush every bone in my body, I’m sure it’s gonna leave a mark somewhere.” the Champion managed a reassuring smile. “Nothing that can’t wait till later. I’ll live, been through a LOT worse.”
Any further protest he might have had was cut off when their attention was drawn back to the confrontation. The Qyaari had managed to pick off most of the Faceless assailants, leaving only a handful of determined individuals who seemed determined to press their attack and prevent them from finding their way to the tower. Aria glanced up sharply as the Champions heard Cheriss bark an order:
“FOLLOW SOTO!” just in time to catch a glimpse of the blonde-haired convict disappearing down a side-path that the Qyaari might have missed had Cheriss not seen her. Looking to Voldon, Aria saw a flash of annoyance appear on the other Elder’s face, before he threw back the remaining Faceless with a powerful burst of energy, and gave chase with Cheriss close behind him.
“COME ON, both of you!”

The "nightmare" in nightmare lands didn't seem to materialize all at once, but instead crept slowly around the traveling party, echoes and whispers of horrendous atrocities intermingling with pleas for help and relief that were both soft and piercingly loud at the same time. It was difficult to classify the sensations in his mind, which was disorienting to the Champion as they traversed through the land of waking horrors(a new title which he would bestow upon the place...sounded more poetic). What made their environment even more disconcerting was that the land itself seemed to entrap them with forest choked trails that hardly allowed for one to see past the first or second row of trees that lined the paths they took. Now and then there would be a clearing, but those clearings featured branching paths that wound in every direction, forcing Yerbol more than once to ask aloud if Voldon knew where he was going. Voldon had ignored the first couple of interrogatives, but upon the third, the Master whipped his head around and glared silently.

That in and of itself was a nightmare.

Thankfully Cheriss was a bit more on the talkative side, breaking he and Aria's shared dread with a brief recounting of what she had endured by coming to these lands herself. Her story sounded like one that needed to be told in a quiet, stress free environment without the potential of demonic spirits(?) derailing them from finding Manus, although he did comment to his spouse that her personality traits made a bit more sense when considering the new piece of information shared. The party lapsed back into silence after the brief interlude from the spirits, which had suddenly become much quieter, so much so that Yerbol could hear their steps crunching on the pebbly earth and fallen leaves.
"That seems...odd." He mumbled, looking to Aria with concern as they reached a square shaped clearing, although this one was different; instead of several circular branching paths, there were three distinct paths, one extending north, east and west. At the beginning of each were stone columns arranged to look like a massive doorway, although one could easily step around the makeshift portal. Maybe there was some kind of symbolic significance behind them? An initiation maybe? Or-

A flicker out of the corner of his right eye. Another.
"Faceless!" He called out, Voldon agreeing by snapping his saber to life just in time to deflect a cloaked blow from an attacker, who suddenly found themselves thrown against the nearest tree, spine cracked in multiple places by the sheer force of Voldon's burst of energy. Yerbol charged to Voldon's side, blocking two blows from a dual wielding Faceless whose eyes glimmered menacingly in the luminescence of their locked sabers. Bending his knees, Yerbol then sprung forward, pushing the attacker backwards before the Champion slashed across and down the torso. As the body hit the ground, he thrust the other end of his saber backwards, the silvery blue blade finding it's once charging target. The brash tactic of running up to a powerful Force user reminded Yerbol once more that Manus had essentially trained an army of suicide squadrons, bodies to throw against his opponents as he played at his own angles to get what he needed.

He needed to be stopped.

But a more immediate concern was a flash of panic darting across his mind, Yerbol surveying the clearing as quickly as he could before finding his wife on her back, attacker viciously attempting to finish her life. He sprinted towards the Faceless, free hand thrusting outward to push the attacker backwards before Aria finishing her off. Helping her back up, he asked:
"Are you hurt?" Her assurances didn't help, especially the last one. He would have to ask her about that when they weren't in a land filled with apparent demonic entities.

Not but a few moments later was there an order barked out to follow Soto, Voldon and Cheriss heading down the path leading directly north of the clearing. With no other option that would lead to a productive outcome, the duo hurried after the Masters as fast as they could despite the increasingly difficult nature of the path. It wound sharply almost every several feet, the decline growing steeper every step forward with seemingly no end in sight to the descent. Whatever natural light they had to guide them previously was diminishing rapidly, replaced by torches glowing dimly that were mounted on the sides of trees that flanked the path. Finally, the duo found themselves on a level path that led straight for a few feet before revealing a massive cave opening that extended at least seventy feet into the air.
"Ari, hold on." His breath coming in labored gasps, he looked forward to find nothing but pitch darkness and absolute, certain quiet.
"Does this..." After taking a deep breath, he finished:
"Does this remind you of the tomb Renso hid out in? Or basically every other place we've had to go t-" When he looked over to Aria, there was something...different. Her eyes. They were...darker? They were almost tainted with a shade of crimson, which was never there before.
"You ok?" He stepped a bit closer to find that her arms were laced with inky black patterns that traced up her arms to her exposed shoulders, running across her chest and torso.
"What..." Her battle gear was different from the norm. Black chestpiece, black pants, crimson colored sabers lit and gripped tightly in each hand. Her gaze bored into him, a sneer crossing her features. That facial expression, one of disdain, arrogance...he hadn't seen that in a long time.
"What are you doing?" He whispered quietly, hands trembling as his saber hilt vibrated. She took a step forward, her normally calming voice taking on a menacing tone:
"I should have ended this a long time ago." Another step.
"One of you died in that tomb and I almost let you drag me down with her. Balance? Harmony?" She titled her head back and cackled, sabers twirling in her readied hands before she continued:
"All this time I let you lead me down a path that my father warned me about. You made me weak, just like you, just like that pathetic excuse of a sister that I so happily destroyed on Korriban."
"This isn't you, Ari, this can't be you."
"Oh but it is! Don't you see this? For the first time in a LONG time I finally realize my potential. Fighting here, in this place has just..." She took a deep breath, imbibing the malevolence around her as she continued:
"Reinvigorated me. Made me see how pathetic the Qyaari, the Masters, YOU are." A sardonic giggle.
"It's time that I end you, to move on from this sham of a life and continue what the Sith Lords had planned for me: absolute and unlimited control of my own destiny!" Her sabers were extended forward as she slowly made her way towards Yerbol.
"No...Ari, please, don't make me fight you!"
"You don't have to fight! Things will be much easier if you don't." Yerbol gripped his saber tightly in hand, blades coming to life. He had to incapacitate her somehow, get her back to normal. If he could.

______

The cavern that Voldon and Cheriss entered was all too familiar to the former, the Master cautioning his colleague in arms:
"Don't know if you came here during your travels, but these caverns are wrought with traps. Not a surprise that Soto brought us down here." They had made their way past the first hundred feet or so of darkness unscathed, Voldon assuring that Cheriss light would be plentiful, his promise coming to fruition when they emerged into a rectangular shaped stone chamber with brightly burning torches and coal baskets lining the walls. More paths stretched in varying direction, but at least they could see what was in front of them.
"The path ahead was the easiest to traverse."
"Don't think you'll make it that far, my dear." Soto's lithe form emerged from the entranceway to their left, a coy smirk crossing her features.
"I've been looking forward to this, you know. Ever since Manus freed me from that hole you buried me in, I've been waiting, watching for the perfect moment to strike you down. A bonus that you brought the old maid with you. Two of you dead will make our job that much easier."
"Get out of our way, Jean. For your own health." A gleeful laugh, Soto pointing to the opposite entranceway where another Soto appeared, the doppleganger retorting:
"This is where your lives end, Qyaari. For good." A third Soto made herself visible ahead of them. A low growl came from the Master's throat, asking Cheriss:
"Which one do you want to kill first?"

There wasn’t much of a choice but for the Champions to comply with Voldon and Cheriss’ directives, unless they wanted to be left behind in this hellish place; so they gave chase, even though the Champions had long lost sight of their quarry. It would seem Voldon and/or Cheriss had not, however, as they spurred on with the determination of a man possessed. This path seemed to go on forever…the more they ran, the more Aria’s head began to feel muggy with what she could only assume was exhaustion. Fighting off the illusions and that spat with the Faceless girl must have taken more out of her than she thought, for the Champion soon found tendrils of the black mist of unconsciousness drifting in and out of her vision. She batted them away with a growl of annoyance. NOT now. She had to tough it out, keep going...had to catch Soto. They couldn’t let her get away with what she had done! But the more Aria tried to fight it, the more insistent the mist seemed to become that it would have her in its grasp, and the thicker it got until she felt like she was choking on it. She was more than a little grateful when Yerbol stopped as they reached the opening to the cave, though before he could finish the sentence, his voice seemed to fade into the distance.

For a brief moment, the Champion thought she HAD lost consciousness. But then, this had to be the WEIRDEST dream she had ever had, because her partner was still standing in front of her. He was trying to speak, to ask her something, but his mouth was moving and no words were coming out, whatever was being spoken instead drowned out by this incessant buzzing in her head that seemed to fill her entire skull cavity until her head threatened to explode. She watched in puzzlement as his expression changed from cautious curiosity, to shock. Words became more tangible, but they were muted, as if she were underwater. Her body seemed to be moving of its own accord, her mouth forming words she would have NEVER spoken to him no matter what happened. Aria could feel the sharp pang of betrayal through their bond and she desperately tried to fight against it, to dig her feet in and resist the force that compelled her to attack her partner.
NO. NO, I would never hurt him! These are lies! I LOVE HIM, STOP! Desperately Aria tried to scream, tried to tell him, and yet the only words that would come out of her mouth were more lies. No, no no...please, Bol this is a lie...this is all a lie!
It seemed the more she tried to fight, the louder she tried to scream, the worse whatever this….hell was, became. Next thing Aria knew it was all sabers flashing and taunts as she lunged for Yerbol and he desperately tried to fight her off without hurting her. One time too many, her crimson blades came far too close to severing his head, though thankfully her efforts to divert the attacks seemed to work at least once and she instead glanced the blade harmlessly off the tree trunk behind his head; the second time Yerbol threw her backwards with a powerful Force blast.

Aria kept hoping...no, BEGGING that all of this would stop. That it was all some horrid nightmare and she would wake up at any moment and it would all be over. Thankfully, it seemed help would arrive at precisely that moment. As Aria scrambled to her feet and was forced to make another lunge for her partner, a shimmering silver barrier appeared between them which stopped her in her tracks and held her in place as a vaguely familiar voice proclaimed firmly:
“ENOUGH! Release them!” that black mist returned, swirling violently around her though Aria was helpless to try and push it away this time.
“Release.Them.” the voice’s owner made herself visible, an orange-skinned Togruta who balanced a saberstaff expertly in one hand while the other extended towards the Champions, dragging the mist aside against its will. “You are not welcome here!”

That was ridiculous, right? Mist couldn’t move on it’s own….this was all some weird fever dream that must have been brought on by the stress of their situation, they were probably passed out somewhere in some bunker in Voss Ka, right….? Slowly, as her head began to clear, Aria began to realise this was not a dream at all, although she could definitely classify it as a waking nightmare. A nightmare which would soon be over, thanks to their rescuers. With one more flick of her wrist, the Togruta propelled the last of the mist away into the shadows. Eerily, the black fog took on the shape of a person at that point (by which time Aria was convinced she had finally lost her mind and started hallucinating), emitting an inhuman scream as it lunged back towards Aria, red eyes boring into her and drawing her back in.
“Don’t look at it!”
The Champion tried in vain to snap her head to the side and jerk free of the demon’s grasp, only able to do so when a set of six-inch claws pierced into the apparition and tore it apart, the last wisps more easily thrown aside by the first Force user and dissipating to reveal the towering eight foot creature that stood in its place.
Certain it was safe to release her, the Togruta released the barrier and Aria dropped to the ground, retching violently as she gulped down lungfuls of air. Her insides felt like they were on fire, her limbs turned to jelly as if she had been drowning and only just been able to come up for air.

When she finally managed to steady herself, Aria looked up to find the trio crowding around her, faces a mixture of concern and relief (all except for the creature, whom she was sure only ever had ONE expression total: smug disdain).
“A-Ashara…?”
“Hey look at that, you remembered what I look like.” the affirmed Ashara smirked as she crouched to help the Champion sit up. “Take it easy kiddo, sit up slowly.”
“Wh-What was that?” Aria coughed, rubbing her throat uncomfortably.
“The nightmare these lands are named after. What are you two doing out here by yourself, where’s Master Lash?” Ashara frowned, her scolding tone quickly becoming concern as she could see no sign of the Dathomirian.
“They went into the cave over there. We were gonna follow them, but then...well...” Yerbol awkwardly pointed it out, his gaze not moving from his partner as he took a step towards them. “Ari...are you alright?”
His concern couldn’t override the horrible realisation Aria had come to.

She had tried to KILL him. After swearing to stand by his side and care for him unconditionally, she had almost murdered him.
“D-Don’t touch me.” she squeaked, trying to shrink away from Yerbol in an attempt to protect him. She couldn’t take the chance, not while they were still here and there was a chance it could happen again.
“A-Ari, I-”
“I SAID DON’T KARKIN’ TOUCH ME!” the Champion screamed, leaping backwards before his hand could make contact with her shoulder. Almost instantly, she felt bad for yelling at him as he flashed her a look of helplessness, amending it with a quieter murmur of: “I-I’m sorry, Bol...I d-don’t wanna hurt you...”
“You should be fine, kiddo.” the Togruta smiled. “But what’s say we catch up with your Masters and get out of here, ey?”
“Yeah...yeah, we should.” Yerbol cleared his throat as the Champions tried to turn their minds back to their objective, they would have a lot to talk about when this was over but now wasn’t the time and they both knew that. “Err...thanks….”
“Ashara Zavros.” the Togruta introduced herself, briefly extending a hand towards the Champion. “Former apprentice to Darth Lash, but I guess now you could call me more of a uh...freelance, Force user?” a friendly smile accompanied the statement, Ashara releasing Yerbol’s hand to gesture at the hulking creature that had left them in order to peer inquisitively into the cave mouth in front of them. “The Dashade is Khem Val, he’s er....well, he’s Khem. Got a few screws loose, but makes for good muscle when you need someone to cover your back.”
The Dashade turned to cast a threatening glare at the other three over his shoulder, gravelly voice growling something in an old Sith language Aria knew very few their age would have understood. Ashara claimed it translated as:
“It is impolite to speak of Khem Val as if he is not here. Khem Val can still hear you.”
“Oh, don’t be such a wet blanket, Khem.” Ashara snorted, waving him off dismissively. “We’re not here to argue, we’re here to help them.”
Aria exchanged a wary glance with Yerbol, while she was glad to have more help, she had to wonder how Ashara had known they would be here….had she been following the Qyaari all this time and only just offered her help, or had Cheriss finally reached out to her former apprentice fearing they may have needed further aid? If it was the latter, it would appear the Elder had been right….

____________________________

The cavern provided less light than Cheriss had hoped for, the Dathomirian growling under her breath and reaching for her borrowed saber to create some light of her own, but stopped as Voldon assured her they would arrive in a well-lit chamber soon enough. As Voldon attempted to point out their next move, Cheriss forced him to pause in order to point out that they had lost their faithful Champions who should have been right behind them.
“Aren’t we forgetting someone, Voldon? We should wait for them, how will they know which path to take?” the pause in their step that the Elders took to consider this fact gave Soto the moment to appear and sneer something about ending the Qyaari once and for all, though Cheriss’ eyes narrowed as she apparently took offence to the “old maid” comment.
“Hey! Who are you calling old, Soto….you’re no spring chicken yourself!” the Dathomirian spat, igniting her lightsaber as her eyes darted from one rendition of Soto to the next, then back to Voldon. It was IMPOSSIBLE to tell which one was the REAL Soto. They would have to kill them all, and hope they got lucky with hitting the actual Soto before she could escape again.
She caught the other Elder’s gaze and inclined her head towards the Soto directly ahead of them.
“I say we go straight down the middle, force them to follow us...what we don’t want is for them to back us into a corner or lead us into a trap.”

Countering Aria's blows were difficult, seeing as his natural instincts were to go on the offensive with every dodge and parry, which meant that he was constantly having to move and contort his saber at unnatural angles to compensate for where his body and weapon WANTED to go. What Yerbol feared the most was that her stance, her style was much different than usual, so much so that he was nicked a couple of times in the right shoulder and arm. After the third blow that connected across his right thigh, he realized why he was having such a difficult time fending her off: she was a Sith again. The chill of the tomb blew onto his neck, the years of accumulated bloodshed by Sadow weighing on his shoulders, the sudden loss of Lysa coursing through him...all of it came back to his mind as he weaved between yet another flurry of attacks.
"Ari, LISTEN TO ME! STOP!" She wasn't listening nor could she until he incapacitated her. He had to, somehow. The only way he could think of at that very moment was to throw his left hand forward, summoning whatever energy he had to push her backwards. Instead of pushing her back, however, she flew several feet into the air before crashing to the ground below. He took a couple of steps forward to hopefully pin her down and do...well, he didn't know, but something!

Thankfully his ill-conceived plan was thwarted by a silvery barrier that blocked him from going any further, a command to release "them both" uttered by an incorporeal presence spurred the appearance of black tendrils awfully similar to those that ran across Aria. The mass of tentacles began to undulate wildly as the voice shouted once more, which then led to the tentacles forming the shape of a person, but there were no defining features of the shape; instead, however, there was an aura of menace, of desperate evil that wanted to cling to whatever vestige of life it had remaining. Otherworldly noises came from the "mouth" of the creature, Yerbol wanting to end the noise as fast as possible and charged ahead in vain to try and sever the monster in half. Rather than achieving the desired outcome, a violent shock coursed through his body when he got within a foot or so of his target, dropping him to his knees in time for him to watch a Togruta acrobatically leap into the fray along with a pair of gleaming claws that sundered the presence in half. With the threat neutralized, the Togruta helped Yerbol to his feet, the latter uttering a mumbled "thanks" before he, the Togruta and a massive humanoid slash alien creature with skin colored a sickly yellow huddled over Aria, who was beginning to regain consciousness. Her once tainted eyes were back to their normal dark, vibrant hues and her apparel was restored to what she was wearing before. Ashara made her name known and helped Aria sit up, who apparently knew her from some time before he and Aria had ever met.
"Ari, I-" His touch was met with vehement rejection, prompting a deep pang...of, well, a mixed bag of emotions. Helplessness, agitation, frustration, guilt, surprise and probably some other things all mangled together in his singular reaction. She apologized, to which Yerbol just simply nodded. They would talk of what happened some other time when Manus wasn't trying to take over the galaxy.

With formalities out of the way, the party made their way into the cave, Yerbol grateful for the assistance that these two would provide. Although it was odd and quite "convenient" that they showed up before something awful had happened, he had to wonder what their true purpose was. Hopefully their true intent was to help, but something nagged at the Champion as they strode further down into the now brighter cave interior. Something about Ashara just didn't...feel right. Or maybe his senses were off(obviously) from their recent visionary experience. It didn't matter now, seeing as they could hear sounds of sabers clashing not too far off. When the party arrived at the same entrance the Masters had earlier, they witnessed what could easily be described as a display of the best saber tactics in the galaxy. Soto and Voldon parried, dodged, twirled, clashed and switched forms seamlessly as they attempted to wrest the upper hand from one another. There were two other bodies clad in Faceless armor, one of which Cheriss stood over momentarily before jumping into the fray with Voldon. With Cheriss and Voldon attacking both sides of her flank, Soto had nothing left to do but retreat back towards an exit across from the entranceway where the party stood witness. A few moments later and Cheriss had successfully brought Soto to the ground, Voldon planting a foot on the woman's chest.
"You could've been so much better." Voldon quietly confessed to the hissing Soto before plunging his saber deep into her thoracic cavity, the sickeningly sweet scent of cauterized flesh filling the air as he dug the saber in further, screams of torment filling the chamber for a few brief seconds before silence descended.
"Instead of standing there, you could've helped." Voldon looked back at the party with annoyance before adding:
"We take this passage up to the inner Chamber. That's where Manus will be. Stay on your guard." He looked to Cheriss for a moment.
"Happy to see your reinforcements arrived. We'll need the help."

With the party combined, they traversed the ever sloping path upwards, silence exchanged between all members of the party except for a few side conversations that Yerbol chose to not be a part of. He had learned from their previous encounters with massively powerful Force users that he needed to focus intensely to have the slightest chance of coming out victorious. He thought he could feel Aria prodding him through their bond, but he chose not to respond. Hopefully she could understand his desire for muteness.

They found themselves in front of gilded golden doors that, when pushed, opened up easily to reveal a similarly laid out chamber to the one beneath, except this area was smaller in scope and featured the same ornately carved doors that they had just entered through. In the center of the room were three Voss in robes, their eyes closed, legs crossed in meditative positions. Behind them stood Manus with a smirk of triumph enhancing his already smug features.
"To think that you would kill Jean so handily, Voldon. I'm surprised."
"Enough of your games, Manus. Let the Voss go."
"No, no, don't change the subject, Voldon." He moved to the right, his saber hilt jangling against ebony colored durasteel greaves.
"Jean was a soft, warm woman who you just...cut down without a second thought. I would think a former lover would have had more compassion." Voldon's neck muscles tightened, veins nearly bursting on his forehead, but didn't speak.
"Ah well. She served her purpose, didn't she? A good warm up for the show." He flicked his right wrist, sending all three Voss flying backwards, their bodies thudding onto the ground.
"Isn't that amazing? Their trances are so deep that even a powerful burst of Force energy can't disturb them."
"What have you done to them?"
"Me? Nothing!" He held out a hand.
"No, no, scratch that, I DID so something: I provided them with motivation. If they didn't want to see this..." He waved to indicate the temple.
"Crumble to the ground in tiny bits, they were to find the location of two very important people."
"Who?"
"You REALLY think I want you to know? Really? The famed strategist Manus Vo giving away a mission objective? Come now, Voldon, we may be on opposing sides now, but my tactics haven't changed. All you need to know as of now is that this place is going to be your tomb. Along with all the other precious 'Qyaari' you brought with you." The mystics were thrown out of the room with another flick o the wrist, all doors in every direction slamming shut.
"There are so many of you, but just one of me. Think you handle the odds?" Yerbol ignited his saber and leaped forward, Voldon shouting after him:
"HE'S GOT COUNTERMEASURES! STOP!" Before Yerbol could get very far, flames shot up from the ground from hidden vents embedded in the floors. Manus chuckled as he flung Yerbol to the left, the Champion clattering to the ground. As he stood up, Manus uttered a boast:
'This temple is just chock FULL of surprises. I wonder if you can get through them... to me." He stood in the center of the room as flames gushed in front of him, forming a barrier which would incinerate any who dared to cross. Just then, the doors to both left and right entranceways flung open, two squadrons of Faceless streaming into the room.
"Cheriss, lead the others against the Faceless! I'll deal with Manus!" Before she could object, he told her with solemnity:
"This is what the Force guided me to. Don't stand in the way."

As the Champions and their newest allies finally caught up to the two Elders, they found the battle all but concluded, as Cheriss and Voldon singled out Soto and the Dathomirian quickly pulled Soto off her feet with a motion of her hand, pinning her in place until Voldon approached and stood over her, saber raised, and finally put an end to Jean Soto’s devious plans. The two Elders turned towards the group as they arrived, Cheriss’ glare mirroring Voldon’s as she took in the new faces. “Took you long enough to get here, didn’t it?!” she scoffed. “Come on, or he’s going to get away again!”
Aria could not contain a cantankerous huff of her own, the Champion crossing her arms over her chest as she growled the beginnings of a vehement protest.
“Well excuse us, it’s not like we had to fight off some kind of-” but was cut off as Ashara abruptly held up a hand to silence her, the Togruta shaking her head solemnly as she made a zipping like motion across her mouth, then turned back towards Cheriss.
“My apologies, Master, the hyperdrive had a...hiccup, en-route and...we were delayed.”
Cheriss’ only further response was a simple grunt as Voldon directed them towards the innermost Chamber. The newly reuinited Force users all trooped along the passageway in an almost deathly silence, neither Cheriss nor Voldon up for conversation as their attention was focused on their final goal. She couldn’t understand a word out of Khem Val’s mouth, so that ruled HIM out; Yerbol was equally unwilling to converse, and after a few attempts at prodding the edge of his consciousness and meeting only a wall of silence, Aria abandoned her attempts rather than risk frustrating him further or diverting his attention without reason. She could only hope the reason for his silence was due to concentration and not because of her earlier behavior. Ashara was slightly more conversational, offering the odd whispered response or smile as they exchanged small talk which seemed almost petty in light of most recent events. They had no time to go into great detail however, and it wasn’t long before they reached the doors to the chamber where Manus awaited their appearance.

The expression of smug pride plastered over the man’s face made Aria’s blood boil. Alerted by the clank of his weapon on armour, the Champion’s eyes tracked Manus’ movements across the room, her trembling hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides as she spat under her breath:
“...I’m starting to HATE that man!” if Manus had overheard the comment, it only seemed to delight him further, the Faceless leader smirking nonchalantly before tossing the helpless Voss Mystics to one side as if they were nothing more than sheets of paper. Everything escalated pretty quickly from then onwards: Manus goading the Qyaari into launching an attack, only to find Yerbol would come up short as he was met with a wall of flame blocking his path. Aria couldn’t stifle a squeak of alarm as she hurried to her partner’s side to check for any injuries. Thankfully, other than being a bit disgruntled and perhaps missing a few hairs, he seemed to be fine. Their attention was instead called to the side doors that swung open, allowing the squadrons of Faceless to filter into the room.
“Oh, of COURSE he brought backup! Faaantastic.” Aria drawled, unamused. As Voldon barked an order for Cheriss to take the others against the Faceless while he single-handedly dealt with Manus, the Elder wanted to protest vehemently.
“But, you-!” but was abruptly cut off by Voldon imploring her not to interfere. Ordinarily she would have refused, told him what a raving idiot he was for trying to take on a master strategist unaided...but some form of madness must have possessed her at that point, and instead the Dathomirian simply responded with a resigned nod, issuing a quick instruction to Ashara.
“Cover him until he gets to Manus, then join us.”

The Togruta affirmed the order, raising a hand to part the flames and allow Voldon to leap through unscathed, before igniting her white blades and leaping back to join the Champions and Cheriss against the Faceless. The Qyaari had to admire the amazing tactical precision that their opponents employed, even if it was grudgingly. Manus had orchestrated this well, having commanded the Faceless to converge on the “invaders” from multiple directions so as to cut off any potential escape routes and prevent them from countering the efforts to force them away from the center of the room where Manus stood. If they wanted to have ANY chance of getting back to help Voldon, they would have to cut down every single Faceless in the room first, all while avoiding the aforementioned booby traps. There was little room to focus on anything else but parrying left, dodging right or severing limbs in either direction as they fought simply to keep the tide of Faceless at bay. With each step she took in order to keep her head attached to her shoulders, Aria could see the ornate doors looming closer yet. They were being forced further and further from the Faceless leader with every passing minute.
“I hate to put a downer on things, Cheriss...but we are VERY outnumbered, if you hadn’t...noticed!” Aria grunted, putting her boot into yet another armoured mask and sending her latest assailant sprawling head-first into the wall with enough momentum for his neck to snap sickeningly on impact.

“So I noticed!” the Elder retorted, spitting a thin trail of blood from her mouth as she reeled back from a vicious blow to the jaw. “Split up into pairs, we need to try and cut through the middle and break them apart!” she instructed, Aria of course immediately gravitating towards her partner. Despite their recent misgivings, she fought better with Yerbol than anyone else and it was a comfort to have him close by her side. The Champions soon fell into their regular rhythm, ducking, slashing and covering each other as they moved to slice through any Faceless that dared come within range. Khem Val could be heard cackling gleefully as the Dashade threw a kicking and screaming Faceless several feet into the air, leaving them to fall just long enough for the Faceless to attempt to slow their descent for a safe landing, only for the unfortunate victim to find themselves impaled once again on Khem Val’s claws.
Cheriss threw the creature an exasperated scowl, reprimanding him sharply.
“Khem, don’t play with your food!”
Aria cast a glance across at the other trio, her nose wrinkling somewhat in distaste. Ashara, it seemed, fared less well in her reaction. The Togruta’s complexion notably paled, and she cleared her throat with clear effort, mumbling:
“Oh...I think I’m going to be sick!”
“Not now, Ashara!” Cheriss snapped, her irritation greatly heightened by the fact that one of the squadrons had managed to separate her off from the rest of the group and back her into the corner of the room. Spitting a curse in her native tongue, Cheriss tucked Aria’s borrowed lightsaber safely into her robe pocket and drew her lightwhip’s hilt from her back once more.
“I don’t have time for this! You brought this on yourselves, if you wish to leave this place alive I advise you do so immediately!” she cautioned the Faceless as the long red tendril snapped to life, the Dathomirian’s eyes glowing as she muttered a few words in the same language Khem Val had spoken earlier. The shape that materialised in answer could have been similar to those which Ashara had rescued the Champions from earlier, save for its colour: a mixture of deep blue, silvery-white and grey, and its behaviour, in that it attacked only the Faceless and left the other Force users unharmed, presumably under the Elder’s directive. The apparition easily sliced through many of the Faceless, intangible to their weapons but able to strike them down in quick successive movements, whatever he missed Cheriss picked off with ferocious snaps of her own weapon.

The Champions, of course, had their own opponents to attend to. Many of them were the same sort, untrained younglings easily disarmed, incapacitated or (where necessary) killed, but their current adversary was clearly older from his size and skill level alone; expertly dodging and parrying attacks from both sides with a single-bladed purple lightsaber, interspersed with Force attacks here and there which on more than one occasion nearly overbalanced both of them. Employing one of their “decoy” tactics, Yerbol managed to draw the man’s attention with a feigned swipe at his midsection which he lowered his lightsaber to block. Aria’s slash towards his jugular fell short, instead clipping the Faceless across his ebony breastplate and sending the mask he wore clattering to the ground. Deep amber eyes glinted ferociously back at them in the faceplate’s absence, just visible from his current posture, slightly hunched over as his breath came in quick, short gasps. A sheen of sweat covered Aria’s brow also, the Champion swiping a hand quickly over her face to clear her vision as she regarded the familiar face of a former Academy rival.
“You fight like a Jedi!” he sneered at her, beginning to circle the pair slowly as he searched for a way to break their defences and push the Champions (who stood back to back, covering all angles of attack).
“At least I adapted...unlike you...as predictable as ever!” Aria retorted, meeting the man’s gaze unwaveringly. “You picked...the wrong side, Ghaleb.”
Ghaleb’s head cocked to one side, not unsimilar to a Nexu sizing up its prey.
“Did I? Oh no no, you see, it’s YOU that picked the wrong side, Ari.” a triumphant cackle, arms spreading outwards to indicate the room around them. “Manus is onto something here, something REALLY big. Makes Varian’s plans look like the ramblings of an old hermit.”
“Manus IS a madman.” Yerbol insisted, eyes tracking the Faceless’ every step.
“You would say that, wouldn’t you? You just can’t appreciate genius when you see it.”
“Ghaleb, what does Manus want? Help us out here and we can cut you a deal.” it was a long shot, but anything was worth a try if there was a chance they could uncover the strategist’s plans.
“PAH!” Ghaleb snorted. “Like I’m stupid enough to tell you.”
A rueful smile crossed Aria’s features for a brief moment, casting a glance back at Yerbol as she twitched her shoulders in a shrug.
Was worth a shot. Guess he’s a dead man like the rest of them.
In unison, the Champions launched another offensive, whereby they quickly took the gloating Faceless by surprise, ending in Yerbol knocking his legs out from underneath him and pulling the lightsaber from his grasp. The weapon flew into Aria’s free hand, the Champion stepping forward to trap Ghaleb’s neck between the intersection of the two blades before he could rise from his knees again.
“That was your biggest mistake. See, if you’re not going to co-operate, there’s really no reason for me to persuade them that you still deserve to live, Ghal.”
A strained chuckle, the Faceless’ eyes flickering from one Champion to the next.
“Finish it, then.” his jugular pulsed invitingly beneath his jaw as Ghaleb craned his head, trying to peer in Manus’ direction one final time. “Rather you than him.”
Aria exchanged a contemplative glance with Yerbol, there was no use leaving in an uncooperative witness, and the man had made it clear he wasn’t going to squawk on their command. Huffing another sigh, Aria allowed the blades to cross over, severing his head from his shoulders.

The remaining Faceless were easily dispatched between the four of them (or five, if they were to count the apparition Cheriss had summoned, which, unlike the others that Aria and Yerbol had encountered outside in the Nightmare Lands, quickly dissipated after a quick word from the Elder bidding its task completed).
“Wh-What...was that….?”
“Lord Aloysius Kallig.” Cheriss confirmed with a nod. “He has his uses, thankfully considerate enough to only make himself known if I ask it of him.” it would seem that the former Darth’s ‘story for another time’ was more complex than the Champions might have thought. The more pressing matter, however, was Voldon’s progress with Manus. Over the crackle of the flames which still stubbornly blocked the rest of the Force user’s path, they could hear the din of lightsabers clashing, but trying to squint through the fire and smoke to see who had the upper hand proved a fruitless task. Tightening her grip on her weapons, the Champion shifted her weight in preparation to leap through the next gap in the flames she could locate, certain Voldon would need their help to take down Manus...only to be stopped as Cheriss plucked her out of the air and set her back down beside Ashara.
“CHERISS, WHAT THE HELL! VOLDON NEEDS OUR HELP!” Aria protested. The Dathomirian shook her head, her mouth pressed into a tight line as she murmured.
“This is his fight, not ours. Just like Bracknell was yours. We have to respect that.”
“You can’t be SERIOUS.” the Champion gawked at Cheriss in disbelief. “So we’re just going to stand here like moon-struck womp rats and hope for the best?!”
“It’s what he wants, dear.” the Elder sighed, shaking her head yet again.
“Master, there must be SOMETHING we can do to help.” Ashara protested, stepping forward to stand at Cheriss’ other side. The Dathomirian looked as if she would protest again for a moment, but instead scoffed in frustration before she caved and told them:
“Alright, fine then. Aria, Yerbol, go with Ashara and check on the Voss...see if you can get them to show you whatever in frack it was Manus is looking for. Khem can stay here with me.”

As Yerbol felt his now incapacitated body fling through the air ever so casually and eventually slam very hard against the stone wall, he reminded himself to never again charge a famed war strategist that was renown for his ability to always maintain the upper hand in any conflict. Thankfully Aria was there to help him to his feet in the nick of time, Faceless seeming to pour in from the once closed doors at an alarming rate. With the barrier of flames roaring a warning to any who would try to charge through it, the rest of the party would have to dispatch Manus' swarm before they would have a chance to figure out how to help Voldon, who apparently wasn't intimidated by the inferno, charging right through without a singe. What he hadn't seen was Ashara's help in getting the Elder through the flames in large part due to the Faceless attackers who Yerbol had to fend off with rapid succession. A downward thrust with one blade and blocking a blow with the other, a saber throw that cut through a couple of attackers on Aria's flank while he slammed his shoulder into another Faceless, the armored body almost incinerating completely as it passed through the flames. He and Aria teamed up as much as they could in the fracas, although at every turn more combatants joined together in an attempt to thwart the duo from gaining too much momentum. Could they sense their bond working to unite he and Aria's efforts? Or were they just attacking the targets assigned? It felt like it was the former, Aria vocalizing a similar sentiment as she kicked off another attacker right into the waiting blade of Yerbol's saber. With the assistance of Ashara and Khem Val in the Champions skirmish, the wave of enemies seemed to focus more on the former Sith and her creature-bodyguard-friend rather than the Qyaari, which was a welcome relief. Along with the expertise of Cheriss, the army of Faceless that Manus had thrown at them were becoming more of a sacrificial slaughter than an attempt to eliminate the Qyaari intruders outright.

As they dispatched the horde of suicidal youngsters, one in particular stood out as a particularly vitriolic fighting style, which was unique considering that the Faceless had only a couple of unrefined stances that proved to be useless without proper training as evidenced by the piling of corpses in the room the Qyaari fought in. He and his partner teamed up in an assault against this one Faceless, whose helmet came flying off after a blow from Aria. The two exchanged remarks and even named each other.

Ghaleb?

Neither he nor Aria had time to entertain a conversation on where she knew this particular foe, although Yerbol had a feeling that he was a rival from Korriban who had signed up with Manus in a frenzy to prove himself. Yerbol's suspicion panned out as Ghaleb almost gleefully proclaimed how right Manus was, how the Qyaari would fail and so on. The drivel was honestly starting to get very rote. For Aria's sake, Yerbol attempted to reason with the young man alongside his spouse, which did nothing except delaying their inevitable killing stroke. When the duo turned around to assess the state of the battle as a whole, they witnessed the tail end of a...something rip through the remaining forces with ferocity in a flash, the incorporeal form vaporizing at the whim of Cheriss, who offered a brief explanation as their attention turned to the barrier of flames that obstructed their view.

__

Manus was a strategist, a war veteran, but he was no warrior. Both he and Voldon knew this as their battle raged on, the former comrades exchanging parries, dodges and the occasional burst of Force energy that would leave the other momentarily stunned but with just enough willpower to summon the strength and dodge a potentially fatal blow. Manus grew weary, however, his hands growing heavier with each deflection and knew that his final ploy had to be enacted for some measure of success. Watching Voldon's saber thrust forward, Manus purposefully dashed left, leaving his right flank exposed. Voldon took advantage of the perceived gaffe and slammed Manus with a wave of energy that sent the former Jedi sprawling across the cobbled ground, saber clattering to a halt against the nearby wall.
"It's over, Manus! Your plans end here and now!"
"They never do...you should know that by now." The once approaching Voldon ceased from his warpath, brow furrowing.
"The Temple of Healing is rather important to the Voss...it would be a shame for the Voss to suddenly lose this and other key points across the planet to the Gormak." Voldon stayed silent.
"Good, you'll let me explain." Manus grunted as he wobbied to his feet.
"The Gormak were easy to work with when I explained that I would lay Voss-Ka at their feet along with the precious temple of Healing that the Voss treasure so much."
"The Gormak don't work with any outsiders. Your bluff is an awful one."
"Oh but they did with me. You see, there were a few Voss settlements near Gormak territory that I sent my troops into to occupy and...well, lets say that the Gormak were happy to see the heads of their enemies rolled to their feet." Swallowing a lump in his throat, Voldon managed to angrily spit out:
"Innocents, Manus?"
"No one's innocent." Manus retorted bitterly, motioning around the chamber.
"Your Qyaari, my Faceless, the galaxy as a whole...no one can hold up their hands and not show a little blood. But that's besides the point." He pointed to the flames.
"The Gormak are, at this very moment, loading up their dropships for an all out assault on Voss-Ka. And, if my sense of timing is correct, their newly acquired portable missile launchers are being loaded to launch at this very temple in about...oh, I'd say ten minutes? Of course..." He motioned to his ear.
"I have a comm unit embedded in my ear and I can call off the airstrike with a simple command to my operatives accompanying the Gormak, who will make sure those savages get nowhere near the capital. Of course, in order to call off the assault, I'll need you and your forces to retreat from Voss, Taris and Hoth completely."
"I don't need your help, Manus. We'll stop you and the Gormak."
"But see, you won't. If I die, no one has the authority to stop the assault and there's no chance you could get back to the surface in time to call in reinforcements. My Faceless, as you know, are relentless zealots. They'll get the job done and make sure that this planet is nothing but a steaming pile of rubble." Although Manus COULD have been lying to dissuade Voldon from finishing him off, the Elder knew that there was truth to labeling his group as zealots. If Manus was indeed telling the truth, then there would be little time to decide a course of action.
"Tick tock, old friend. What'll it be?"

___

The Mystics were still laying in a prone position when the Champions found them, their eyes closed and a gold colored aura emanated from their bodies.
"Is this...normal for them?" He asked, looking to Aria with befuddlement.
"How can we break them out of the trance?" The Voss weren't responsive to verbal or physical prodding(for some reason Yerbol thought he would get in trouble down the line if someone found out he poked a Voss mystic with his index finger, but no one else besides his wife needed to know), so the Champion concluded aloud:
"We'll just have to get them out of here on our backs. Khem Val should be able to hoist one up. Between us all, the other two should be no prob-" Suddenly the Champion rocked backwards, back hitting the cavern wall as dirt and gravel shook free from the ceiling.
"That can't be good."

___

"Captain, incoming dropships!" Alliance Captain Malzon DeVries looked up as dropships descended on the Alliance occupied capital city as others screamed overhead in the direction of the Temple.
"Get the AA guns back online if you can! Warn the Voss to retreat to battle positions!"

___

Platoons marched forward with launchers jostling on their backs, warriors exchanging knowing glances as they saw the outline of the Temple in the distance.

___

An eternity seemed to pass as Voldon quickly weighed his options, Manus smirking.
"Time is going to keep flying by unt-" Voldon had dashed forward in less than the blink of an eye, saber thrust into Manus' chest. Blood pooled in his throat, spilling onto the ground as Voldon proclaimed:
"No matter the losses, you can't be allowed to live." He kicked Manus' body off of his saber as he shouted:
"CHERISS, GET THE MYSTICS AND THE OTHERS OUT! I'LL DO WHAT I CAN TO MAKE SURE YOU GET OUT IN ONE PIECE!" The flames were still in play and although Voldon knew he could have one of them part the barrier, any time not focused on getting the mystics and any other survivors out of the Temple would be a waste of resources.

He would submit to the will of the Force. No matter the outcome.

“I’ve gotta admit...that is REALLY strange.” Aria muttered as they found the Mystics stuck in the same trance as they had been before the whole fight with the Faceless had started. As her partner shot her a confused look, Aria responded with a shrug of her own.
“The heck if I know, Bol...never been near a Mystic before in my life.” a glance was cast back at their older companion, hoping Ashara would have more of an idea than the Champions did.
“Let’s see-” Ashara began stepping towards the Mystics to attempt to lift them, but at that moment was interrupted as a violent boom shook the underground cavern and threw them outwards into the walls.
Aria found herself momentarily incapacitated as her back was slammed into the cavern wall, knocking the air from her lungs. The Champion coughed, the dust from the collapsing debris making it difficult to see for a few moments before it cleared. She squinted to find both Yerbol and Ashara still on their feet though as wobbly as she was. The Mystics had thankfully also been protected from falling projectiles, courtesy of the barrier their Togruta companion had thrown up around them.
“What was that? Not to say I’m stupid but...WHO else could possibly want to attack the Tower if we’re here and Manus is here too?!” it was clear there was some sort of attack going on above ground, likely the Tower which, if Aria remembered correctly, they were situated in the lower levels of. Who was behind that attack, however, was a mystery to her.
“I think I have an idea who it is.” Ashara muttered, her face grave. “But it’s not good, at all.”
Either way, there was no time to waste in getting back to the two Elders and getting out of there.
_______________________

Cheriss couldn't see through the flames, despite her best attempts to squint and see whether Voldon had emerged victorious. The Elder started upright once again at hearing his shout, concerned at Voldon’s lack of mention of his own escape plan. She would have to trust that he could get himself out….or not, if the Force decided that. It was out of her hands now. Instead, she answered with a nod and called back.
“Alright! How much time do we have?!”
When the officiating Elder informed her of a paltry ten minutes for them to evacuate, she knew she had no choice. She had to find the Champions and the Mystics, NOW.
“Khem, find them!” as the beast thundered off in the direction the Champions had run, Cheriss paused briefly to throw a glance towards where she guessed her friend could be.
“This better be worth it, you idiot!” She couldn't bear to utter the word “goodbye” directly, it would make it seem too final. As if there was not even a slim chance he would survive this, but at the same time...she knew it WAS final. He knew it. Just as Noctis had…
_________________

“Get them up, we're leaving.” Cheriss and Khem Val seemed to appear out of the shadows of the cavern shortly after the cavern stopped trembling, the Dathomirian barking a sharp order that reinforced the need to get the Mystics out of the tunnels. The Dashade was easily able to lift one of the prone Voss onto his back to carry them out.
“But Voldon-!”
“- Is a grown man and can take care of himself!” Cheriss cut off any protests from either Champion. Aria exchanged a pained glance with her partner, her head turning back towards the tunnel they had entered from.
“We can't just LEAVE him in there, Cheriss he's our FRIEND!”
“VOLDON has asked us to leave.” the Dathomirian regarded the younger woman with sharp, narrowed eyes as she helped Ashara to lift one of the Mystics.
“BUGGER THAT!” Aria snapped in retort, spine straighter than a rod as she spat once onto the ground. “I'M not leaving him here to die even if you're happy to!” and turned sharply on her heel after her declaration, as if to march right back down the passageway.
Only for Cheriss to intercept her, the Elder moving with frightening speed to place herself in front of the Champion, thus blocking all access to the previous route. Aria cursed vehemently as her forehead bounced lightly off Cheriss’ forearm, scowling up into the Elder’s pale blue eyes with an expression that pre-empted another tirade of foul language condemning Cheriss’ moral ethics.
“We're taking the Mystics out of here to safety.” Cheriss repeated, expression unyielding and tone slow and deliberate, as if she were scolding a disobedient Kath pup for bad behaviour. As Aria's mouth opened for yet another argument, Cheriss raised her voice to shout for the first time since they had gathered the former Sith and Jedi Masters on Zinuthra:
“THAT IS AN ORDER, MASSANI!”
Aria shrank back, her defiance deflating from her posture in an instant. Years of training and conditioning at the Academy had rendered her physically incapable of disobeying a direct order from a superior, however much she may disagree with it.
“Y-yes, Ma’am.” The Champion coughed, sullenly returning to help Yerbol and Ashara drag the Voss up off the ground.

Between Cheriss, Yerbol, and Aria they managed to carry the remaining three Mystics, while Ashara ran in the lead, conjured light orbs illuminating their way as she led their escape through the tunnels, quickly turning them around before they became trapped in a dead end and after a few painstaking minutes bringing them back to the top of the tower as another rumble shook the structure. The Mystics, much to the befuddlement of the Champions, remained unconscious even as they made the run through the levels to deposit them in one of the more secure rooms under the guard of an Alliance squadron while the Champions ascended a nearby staircase which led to an outside balcony from which they could survey the approaching forces.
“More Gormak than us, Master.” Ashara whispered, her complexion flushing darkly to betray her agitation. “Starting to think coming after you was a bad idea...suppose they decide to make sure you stay dead this time?” the beginnings of a playful smirk flitted across the Togruta’s lips, but quickly faded before it filled her features.
“Not if we can rouse those Mystics.” Cheriss pointed out, turning back towards the tower as another assault rocket connected closer to the base of the Tower and shook the structure. “Its not over yet.”
“So how DO we wake them?” Yerbol questioned, the only one of the two Champions to speak as Aria had remained tight-lipped since their altercation after abandoning Voldon and Manus underground.

Yerbol protested himself at the thought of leaving the presiding Elder behind, but there was a look in Cheriss' eye that pacified him a bit more quickly than his, at times, stubborn partner. He wanted to warn her about what he saw in the Elder's eyes, the somber and ominous knowledge that shot through her glance on the subject. What did she know that they didn't? It wasn't like Voldon was keen on being buried inside the tomb. Was there something deeper in the temple that had to be disarmed? Was there some strange personal journey that Voldon had to go through? Was th-

THAT'S AN ORDER, MASSANI!

Cheriss' sudden command jolted Yerbol from his ill-timed tangent, conforming to said order with haste, slinging one of the mystics across his shoulders and forcing himself to address the immediate matter:
"Where do we go?" Cheriss and Ashara affirmed that there was a way out of the subterranean area, the latter taking point as they hauled the mystics limp bodies through winding hallways, steep flights of spiral and traditional staircases as well as through sweet smelling common areas fraught with the intermingling scent of bloody carnage. Voss, Alliance and a few Faceless bodies were in almost every area large enough for battle, reinforcing that their arrival on Voss came far too late.

After arriving at what Cheriss claimed was the top of the temple, they spotted a few Alliance squadrons, one commander reporting that they had arrived about half an hour ago just in time to have the Gormak storm both Voss-Ka and the Temple. When Yerbol requested an update on potential incoming forces as the party of Qyaari found an empty room to catch their breath, the commander direly told them that most deployed Alliance forces were concerned about fending off Voss Ka and couldn't spare any other resources. Just as the Champion was about to wonder aloud as to how they were going to pull themselves out of THIS particular potentially world-ending scenario, Cheriss informed them that the Mystics were the key.
"How? There are three of them against..." He motioned to the Gormak marching tirelessly on the Temple, blaster bolts exchanged from the Alliance troopers remaining and the initial Gormak fighters.
"I know that Ari and I have no experience with waking Mystics up, but we know how to fight off enemies. Could you and Ashara work on trying to wake them up? Those troopers are done for if we don't get down there and help." As if to accentuate the Champion's point, another rocket tore through the sky and slammed against the Temple, rocking the structure far too much for his liking.
"So what's the call?"

___

He snorted a chuckle at Cheriss' comment, retorting back:
"I've always enjoyed your pleasant demeanor!" The smile that had formed from the laugh vanished, the Elder taking one last look at Manus' fallen corpse. He stood for a moment, sentiment getting the better of him, memories flooding into his mind of times that felt like another life, one that he would have preferred to escape to at times.

Shaking his head to clear the obstructive recollections, Voldon strode through the set of doors in front to find stone stairs that descended even further into the bowels of the Temple.
"Smells like we shouldn't be here." He mumbled with a smirk, looking to his side only to find no one beside him. She had been here the first time they had come this far into the Temple, she a rather spunky, freshly initiated Jedi Knight who was more than willing to voice her opinion on their surroundings, even when her Master didn't ask for it.

He would miss her. Terribly.

"No more." His boots clanked down the stairs, reaching the bottom where a stone doorway opened up into an empty, vast circular chamber that extended into an eternity of darkness above. Torches were ensconced, burning brightly with a greenish tinted flame. Voldon strode to the center of the room, doffing his saber and robe before getting down on both knees, hands on his upper thighs as he closed his eyes. Not a minute passed until the chamber devoid of sound began to have whispers floating through it, swirling around the outer edge of the room. They began to grow in decibel volume and ferocity, fragments comprehensible through the storm.

You dare...

KILL HIM

Destroy them all to...

Cleanse..

DESTROY

Voldon grit his teeth, focusing with all his might on maintaining his position as the whispers edged towards him, malice growing in the tone of the whispers that were now taking shape. Dark shaded shapes that formed into corporeal beings, their hands wrapped around the hilts of their respective blades. They drew within inches of him now, their presence nearly overwhelming, Voldon raising his voice as he cried out:
"I SUMMON YOU, GUARDIANS OF THIS TEMPLE, SPIRITS OF THE VOSS, CONSUME THE ENEMIES THAT THREATEN TO DESTROY YOUR PEOPLE!" The spirits raised their free hands at the same time, pointing at the tiring Champion before each form flickered forward into Voldon's body, infesting every part of his body and mind. A primal scream ripped from his throat as the last of the spirits made their home inside the Elder, Voldon collapsing forward, breathing coming in ragged gasps. Then soft breaths. Then stillness.

____

Before Cheriss could answer Yerbol's question, the Force users and Alliance troopers were brought to their knees as a sudden, powerful explosion of Force energy surged through every crevice of the Temple. A cylindrical column tore through the main chamber, flinging troopers out of the way before looming in front of the entrance. Gormak forces halted for a moment, shouts of indecipherable commands being issued right as the column broke apart to reveal spectral forms littering the battlefield, their blades at the ready. Blaster bolts were fired at the forms, but to no avail: they cut through the Gormak with no hesitation, blood running freely over the once picturesque planet surface. The assailants stubbornly stood their ground only to find a quick death at the hands of the potentially endless spectral squadron.

Yerbol was only able to witness the tail end of this spectacle, seeing as the unseen summoning had released such a massive shockwave of energy that the Champion was immobilized, only getting to his feet with some help from Khem Val, who seemed unaffected by the seismic outburst. After helping the others up, they witnessed the slaughter from the balcony, Alliance troopers cheering complemented by Gormak screams of pain. Yerbol couldn't muster the words to say anything in regard to what they were witnessing, but a deep voice behind the assembled party did:
"Why have the Guardians been awoken?!" Turning, Yerbol found the Mystics standing upright, their eyes glowing in what felt like righteous indignation.
"Awoken?" Yerbol looked to Cheriss, asking:
"What are they talking about?" Another Mystic answered:
"Our Temple Guardians, ones that have been bound for ages only to be released in the most direst of circumstances. They were never to walk the face of Voss ever again. Who did such a thing and why was it done?"

As Yerbol pointed out the grave state of their numbers, even WITH the help of the three Mystics, Aria couldn't help but carefully nod her agreement.
“How much difference can they honestly make? These Gormak don't strike me as the type to flee just because of some vaguely threatening mantras shouted at them.” she knew by now, from experience, that there would be SOME way for them to think their way out of the situation, but the Champion had to confess a distinct lack of any solid plans coming into her own thoughts at this precise moment. They didn't have to wait long, the Temple seeming to provide a solution all of its own, yet another explosion propelling the personnel in the room from their feet. Aria tried in vain to find purchase SOMEWHERE to keep her own balance, instead finding herself privy to some rather unattractive flailing of her limbs before finally grabbing onto an outcropping in one of the support pillars and dragging herself to her feet again. The entrance to the Temple was barred by a floor to ceiling column of solid debris as large as a full grown man in width, halting the terrible procession of the Gormak offenders. Aria shook her head in disorientation, having to blink a couple of times to ensure that the spectral shapes which appeared next were in fact there, tearing through the group of assailants with a vengeance right before the eyes of both Qyaari and Alliance troopers.

Their relief at the impending victory was cut through, however, by an indignant protest from the newly awoken Mystics, who stood in procession behind them and glaring severely at the newcomers to the Temple as they demanded an explanation.
“E-Er...I'm sorry…?” Like Yerbol, Aria fumbled for words, at a loss for any words to explain something that she didn't understand herself. Luckily, it seemed Cheriss was able to shed some light onto the Champion’s and Voss’ confusion.
“The Temple Guardians. Spirits of long-dead Voss Mystics, bound to the Temple building and assigned to protect it in...what was your wording? “Times of dire need”?” the Elder’s head cocked pointedly towards the petulant Mystics, arms spreading outwards to indicate the destruction around them. “I think THIS can be considered a grave enough emergency, no?” the Voss shrank back, perturbed, but seemed to exchange glances and contemplate Cheriss’ point as the Dathomirian gave a heavy sigh. “I apologise for the intrusion to your Temple, Mystics, but I fear if my fellow Elder had not awakened them we very well may have lost the Temple altogether.”
Much of the structure appeared to have already been compromised by the use of the rocket launchers before the spectral army had cleared the attacking forces, however with some time and care the outer walls and foundations could be patched up. Cheriss moved quickly amongst the Alliance commandos, issuing instructions for them to salvage what they could and to arrange for further help to be sent when possible. Aria found her own attention focused on the collapsed pillar in the center of the room, slowly processing Cheriss’ words and reaching a conclusion about what they meant.
“Voldon...sent them to help us?” she asked, trailing after the Dathomirian as she walked, though the Champion’s limbs felt weighted down with durasteel and she stumbled once or twice trying to keep up with the taller Force user’s strides.
“Yes.” Cheriss’ answer was simple, her attention focused on anything else but acknowledging the lack of the other Elder’s presence in the room.
“Is he…?” Aria trailed off, swallowing hard. “The tunnels, there are other ways out, right?”
The Elder did not reply immediately and Aria’s heart sank into her gut. “Ch-Cheriss?”

Cheriss froze then and turned her head, and the Champion was almost certain she saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes before she closed them in an attempt to disguise it.
“Voldon knew what he was doing, Aria. It was his decision to make.”

“S-So he’s just...gone?” the words stuck uncomfortably in the Champion’s throat, forcing her to swallow again, twisting her fingers restlessly through themselves as her subconscious tried to occupy her racing thoughts with physical movement.
“I’m afraid so.”
“What now?” perhaps what was most concerning, was the near-certainty Aria felt, in that none of the remaining Qyaari could be sure. Without the former Battlemaster at their head, what were the Qyaari? Voldon had been the anchor that held them together, reminding them of their true purpose and always ensuring that they kept on track, even as it seemed every other force in the galaxy was trying to tear them apart....
“Regroup, assess damages....” Cheriss lifted her head from its bowed position with a heaved sigh. “Make sure Voss is stable enough for us to make our return to Zinuthra so that we can join the others and track down whatever Faceless squadrons Manus deployed before he came here.” the corners of the Elder’s mouth twitched in a very, very faint smile. “At least we are assured one thing, without Manus and Jean dead, they are no longer a threat; whatever’s left of the Faceless is most likely nothing but confused younglings. We should try to round them up, if we can.”

What they would do with said captured Faceless after that fact, however, it was clear even Cheriss had no idea. Aria didn’t have the heart to voice her doubts of the plan, after everything that had just happened it provided a minute amount of comfort to have a goal to focus on...instead, she gave a nod of confirmation and shuffled back towards her partner, reaching out a shaking hand to touch his forearm lightly.
But as Yerbol raised his gaze to hers, Aria found herself forgetting what she had planned to say to him.

With the explanation of the Guardians were, Yerbol had a sinking feeling that Voldon had something to do with their appearance, Cheriss confirming the notion before summoning the Champions to her side and asking for their assistance. The Mystics, who had remained silent during Cheriss' explanation, exchanged looks with one another before the Mystic who first spoke uttered:
"You must ensure the health of your allies. We will tend to our own. It would be most beneficial for your Elders to convene with us at an opportune time. There is much we must discuss." Cheriss acknowledged the invitation before ordering the recovering Alliance squadrons to salvage what they could before requesting air transport off-world. Yerbol wanted to ask about the consequences of what Voldon had done, but Aria beat him to it. The short, somber exchange between Elder and Champion all but confirmed Yerbol's suspicion about Voldon's actions: he sacrificed himself for their own good. Not shocking for his character, but for one of the most stabilizing forces within the Qyaari to suddenly be gone was...well, it was hard to define the term, but Yerbol knew that the knots tightening in his gut were only a mere sign of things to come without the presiding Elder.

He was snapped back out of reverie when a couple of Alliance soldiers asked for help clearing rubble from the entrance of the Temple, Yerbol complying with the request and within a couple of moments the rubble that once acted as makeshift cover against the Gormak was swept aside. As he turned, he found his partner approaching, her near ebony colored irises that normally gleamed with joy tainted with sorrow.
"Hey." He muttered quietly, taking the wobbly hand that gently rested on his arm in one of his own. When no words came, he wrapped his arms around his partner, kissing her on the head as he told her:
"We're going to be okay. I promise you that we're going to be okay." Knowing that probably sounded trite and unconvincing, he quickly tried a bit of grim humor:
"Don't think Voldon would want us to think otherwise, right?" No, that didn't sound right either. Sighing, he released from their embrace and slid his hands up to her shoulders.
"So we focus on the people here that need our help, do what we can to make sure that what Voldon did can be honored through our actions." Already he could hear the whine of engines roaring through the sky as Alliance ships began to descend in the rolling hills that stretched out in front of the Temple.
"I think I heard some of the troopers talking about needing our help getting the wounded out in one piece. Mind helping?"

___

It took several hours, but all Alliance troopers that managed to stay alive through Manus' brutal assault were evacuated to shuttles along with debris cleaned up and disposed of. Voss healers and commandos who had been on the front lines at Voss Ka were diverted back to the Temple where they began to carry out their own fallen along with tending to those who still had a chance to survive the carnage Manus had brought upon their normally picturesque planet. When Yerbol wasn't busy helping Alliance or Voss forces, he would lean against one of the support pillars just outside the entrance, some variation of arms folded across his chest as he watched the sky, awaiting the arrival of the scattered Qyaari forces that were deployed to other planets. They hadn't heard anything about how Hoth or Taris did in the assaults, but he could only hope that there wasn't as much resistance there as they faced here. His first rumination session featured thoughts of his parents, but he then disposed of them. Surely they're alright. If anything, Manus chose those two planets to try and stretch their forces in vastly different directions so he could accomplish whatever he was doing on Voss. It was a miracle that one of the Alliance communications officers that came from the wreckage of the capital city managed to get a hold of forces on both worlds, relaying the message to come to Voss as soon as possible. He hoped that the message was actually heard.

It wasn't until night had fully descended upon the planet and the Temple cleared of almost all collateral damage did two shuttles shoot out of the night sky, coming to rest on the knoll in front of the Temple where so many other ships had landed over the course of the day. Their loading ramps ejected, allowing Yerbol to spot the forms of the other Elders and-
"Kira." He muttered, throat drying as he dropped the Faceless helmet in his hands that he had been examining and walked to the threshold of the Temple.
"Good to see you in one piece." Matthew shot him his trademark lop-sided smile, clapping a hand on the Champion's shoulder.
"It took a lot of sacrifice for that."
"So we've heard." Malu came alongside her fellow Elder, surveying the Temple with cloaked eyes.
"Something...powerful was here. Even more than Manus." She cocked a brow, demanding further explanation.
"That's a long story, one that I think Cheriss should tell you." Kira squinted, looking past the younger man as she asked:
"Where's the big guy? Is he trying to coordinate 'war efforts'? Goodness, he never knows when to stop, does he?" Blowing out a contented sigh, she followed up with:
"He'll be happy to know that Hoth was a complete waste of time. A few Faceless troopers and some weird ice drill that they were trying to use to bore into a cave that, according to Malu, had little value."
"Taris was a waste as well." Aliel joined the company now, her normally flowing blonde locks a tangled mess, bags underneath her eyes.
"Although not as easy as disarming a drill." She shot Kira a teasing look, to which she only chuckled.
"Where's Cheriss?"
"I don't...." Yerbol turned back, relieved to find that the Elder was approaching, although he didn't know where his spouse was. She ought to be here.

Aria could only shake her head meekly as Yerbol’s arms drew her in close to his chest. As heroic as Voldon’s death had been, it did not make the loss of his presence, and by extension his wisdom, any easier to bear.
“You don't know that.” she muttered under her breath. “ANYTHING could happen now...hell, what if this is IT?” She glanced up at him, finding her eyes oddly devoid of tears to cry, rather that the loss left an oppressive emptiness where certainty might once have been. “What's to say the Faceless haven't killed the others too and we're all that's left, AGAIN?” the Champions mouth twisted into a reluctant smirk as her husband made a remark about what Voldon would have wanted, and she quickly banished the unlikely scenario from her thoughts.

They would be fine. The Qyaari were stronger than that now. Somehow, they would work this out.

She managed to nod her head as Yerbol stepped back, squeezing her shoulders gently and suggesting that they help to relocating the surviving wounded from the Temple and surrounding areas to medbays. Aria could think of no better use of their time, throwing her attention into the task with hyperfocused enthusiasm that reached far beyond simple dedication to her duties and passed into the realm of “occupying her mind in any way possible as a way to ignore the grief”. At some point during the kerfuffle of carrying wounded or dying persons to and fro, she lost sight of her partner and Cheriss both, though from the remaining Alliance soldiers she had been working with the Champion heard the news that an officer had gotten a message through to the other Qyaari members and they had agreed to rendezvous here on Voss. Aria confessed to dawdling further on her remaining tasks, in the hopes of avoiding the conversation altogether. She didn't really want to be present when Kira was informed of her husband's parting. Cowardly or not, she did not relish the thoughts of Kira’s reaction....Force knows she would feel the same way should she have been told similar news about Yerbol. However, as the Alliance squadron she had been tailing completed their task of helping the surviving Voss clear some of the rubble blocking the temples entrance (in record time, thanks to the aid of the Force-weilding Champion who could lift whole chunks of the debris with one hand and move it around), she found herself approached by one of the Mystics who insisted:
“It is of import that you return to your companions now that they have all arrived. There is much to discuss, my brethren will be expecting you...all of you.”
Aria found his insistence somewhat mystifying, but if there was one thing she had learnt over the years it was to not question such things. The fact that she could feel her husband's confusion at her absence only further enforced the point for her. Heaving a sigh, the Champion thanked the Mystic and made her way post-haste to the impromptu landing pad where Yerbol and Cheriss were already waiting as the other Qyaari disembarked.

Aria rejoined the group a short moment after Cheriss, in time to hear the other Elders recount the tales of their exploits, deducing from Ailel’s dishevelled appearance that she was not exaggerating. The Dathomirian remained silent as she listened to the other Elders recount their tales, arms folded neatly behind her back and betraying no notion of the heart breaking news she was about to deliver. Aria couldn't conceal the grimace that crinkled her features as Kira’s attention turned to the absence of her partner. She had hoped Kira wouldn't notice, unfortunately finding that not to be the case as the red headed Knight frowned warily back at her.
“....What? What did he do?”
“Kira…” the Champion swallowed, trailing off as she slipped her hand into Yerbol’s and squeezed gently. He was likely as thankful as Aria was when Cheriss interjected to give the explanation needed. Kira visibly paled as the news sank in, her jaw set into a hard line as she forced out the words:
“...If this is some sort of joke that the two of you have come up with Cheriss, it's NOT funny.”
The Dathomirian shook her head solemnly, breath huffing out in a heavy sigh.
“Kira, I'm sorry. The amount of energy it would have taken to release those spirits...they do not give without taking something in return.”
“No...no, no.” the Knight shook her head in denial, taking a few steps back. “He promised.”
“He made a very brave choice.” Cheriss muttered. “I can't pretend that will make this any better, but if it wasn't for Voldon, Manus would have killed us all.”
“Makes little difference to me.” Kira sniffed, her shoulders stiff.
“I know.” despite some conflicted glances exchanged between Ailel and Cheriss, none of the Elders made any move to stop Kira as she moved further away from them, seemingly in agreement to leave the Knight to come to terms with the grief herself while they discussed their next step. Ailel ran a hand through her tangled fringe, teeth sinking into her lower lip with enough force that it might have drawn blood, her voice a muffled murmur when she spoke next.
“So if Voldon’s gone, what do we do now…?”
______________________

An hour or so later, the assembled Qyaari (sans Kira, who had yet to reappear since the altercation) found themselves across from the remaining Voss Mystics, in an annex of the Tower that had coincidentally (or perhaps purposefully, Aria wondered) suffered very little artillery damage. Great shelves stretched up towards the ceiling, jammed to overflowing with scrolls, datacrons and other such banks of knowledge.
“What use would someone like Manus have for an old archive?” Aria frowned, craning her neck back as she attempted to peer up at the contents of the topmost shelves and finding she got nothing but severe muscle cramps for her efforts. “He was a strategist right, not a historian…?”
“Indeed.” the Voss nodded, tapping his fingers together in a gesture oddly reminiscent of the supervillains in those cheesy movies on the HoloNet. “However, what Manus Vo searched for holds great strategic value should he have found it. Or rather...should I say, ‘whom’.” a nod to his comrade brought a second Mystic striding closer to the table which the Force users had arranged themselves around.

In the centre of the table sat a projection device, which had been dormant until now, when activation by the Voss prompted it to produce a holographic image of a man in classic old-school Jedi garb, his pale skin accented by the mop of dark hair on his head and the facial hair that complimented it by framing most of his jawline. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest in a posture that may have come across as impatient had it not been for the serenely thoughtful cast to his expression. Aria had never seen a representation of his face before in all her twenty one years, but she had seen enough mention of him in the plethora of texts that populated Roan’s study on Dromund Kaas to know who he was as soon as she laid eyes on him.
“...Revan? But isn't he long dead?” the diminutive Champion's gaze moved from the Elders either side of her, to the Voss on the other side of the blue hologram.
“That was never confirmed.” Ailel protested, fingers drumming against the table's surface. “The Jedi merely lost contact with him when he disappeared, but no signs of life, or otherwise lack thereof, were ever received for either Revan OR Bastila...until Satele arrived, of course.”
But the late Grandmaster of the Jedi Order had claimed to have no knowledge of her Great-grandparents’ whereabouts either. NO ONE did. Many Force users from both sides had attempted to search for the revolutionary in the years following, none had succeeded and eventually everyone had assumed the reason for this to be that they had both passed back into the Force.
“He can't POSSIBLY still be alive. Nobody lives that long.” Aria protested, feeling a surge of wary uncertainty from her partner through their link.

“Your father followed several leads garnered from the Revanites, for a time, when you first came to Korriban.” Cheriss reminded her, catching Aria's eye briefly.
“And that turned out a dead end just like every other claim to Revan’s location, he came back angrier than a Bantha with a sore head and never spoke of it again!” Aria huffed, but obediently fell silent as the Dathomirian raised a hand to quiet her and turned back to the Mystics.
“What is it that you have seen, that would prompt Manus Vo to destroy half your homeworld in order to acquire it?”

Yerbol watched helplessly as Kira came to truly realize that her husband was just another casualty of war, a fallen soldier like so many that had sacrificed their lives for the good of civilization. She uttered protests even after Cheriss gave her the news, but eventually she strode past the group of Qyaari, her gait growing faster by the second until she was past the dropships and onto the endless knolls beyond. When Aliel broke the silence that had descended onto the party, Matt responded quietly with affirmation:
"We find out why Manus would stage a blitzkrieg on a planet that refuses to engage in galactic affairs." His brow furrowed for a moment.
"The Mystics seem like the obvious target...maybe they were hiding some powerful secret he wanted? The Voss are renown for their wisdom and borderline Force sensitivity. Still though, Manus had to know this would be a nigh impossible task to pull off." Yerbol quickly mentioned that the Mystics desired to see the Elders and Champions once the former had all arrived, prompting a quick nod from the Elder.
"I suppose they'll want to at least give us some context for the attack. Or yell at us for bringing a war criminal to their doorstep. Either way, this should be an interesting meeting."

____

Interesting couldn't even begin to describe what the Mystics projected on their holoterminal.
"Revan." Yerbol managed to whisper the name with reverence without sounding too much like he was about to bow to the hologram. He had read of Revan's plight, how he overcame the darkness from his former life and redeemed himself by slaying Darth Malak. Revan was like a holo-book hero, a larger than life figure that apprentices and padawans secretly aspired to become. A hero that overcame all obstacles. But, as Ari and the others confirmed, his whereabouts dead or alive were long gone. There were some unsubstantiated conspiracy theories on the holonet written by crackpots that Yerbol may or may have not looked at for long periods of time when he was younger, but actual information on where he had gone off to? If he was even still alive?

Cheriss' question brought the Champion back to the current discussion. The Mystic to the left of the one who spoke first told them:
"Manus Vo was here to find Revan, to isolate him from the rest of the galaxy and learn his secrets. Manus Vo wanted to Revan's teachings to become his own, to enslave the galaxy with them. We would not allow him to do so to a friend of the Voss."
"That must mean you know where he is, then? Revan?" Matt asked incredulously, hands gripping the circular pedestal so tight that his knuckles turned pale white. The Mystic on the very right chimed in:
"He was here many years ago. His energy, so powerful, still resides within the walls of the Temple, albeit faintly."
"And I assume you can trace that energy somehow?" Matt asked, eyes widening.
"All life has a string of energy that can be followed, can be seen through past, present and future. We did not follow Revan's string at the behest of our now fallen Masters." Yerbol shot a glance over at Ari and spoke through their bond:

How long can Voss live again? Because if these Masters interacted with Revan, then that would mean...well, never mind, I'll tell you later.

As Yerbol ended his sentence, Matt was offering a request to the Mystics:
"I know that your law, your beliefs are of supreme importance to you, but you must try to find him. Somehow, someway. If Revan is still alive, then...then there's a chance that our Order could have access to wisdom far beyond our years." The triage of Mystics exchanged glances with one another before the Mystic in the middle nodded.
"Your Qyaari have done well in defending our planet. One of your own sacrificed much. While our tradition demands that we obey our Masters commands even after their passing, your saving of Voss from both Manus Vo and the Gormak give us the motivation we need, just this once, to disobey." After planting themselves cross-legged on the ground, one spoke:
"We are weak after Manus demanded much from us. Please lend us your energy so that we may uncover what you are searching for." Without hesitation Yerbol and Matt sat on the cold(!) stone floor as the others joined them.
"Let go. Feel your energies fill this space." As the Qyaari complied with the directive, Yerbol could feel his mind slowly drifting, his eyes growing heavy. It would be so easy to just fall into a deep-

The ship careened through the atmosphere, blowing past the pillow shaped clouds and soaring into the darkness of space. Almost comforting.

She looked to him, crystal blue eyes set in determination. He said something, slurred and incomprehensible.

The ship's hyperdrive throttled to life, throwing it into blackness. Unending blackness.

The structure floated in the darkness. Menacing. Ominous. Below was a blue and green orb, gleaming like a newly minted coin. Stretching out beyond the orb were others like it. Colors swirling.

Another structure, similar, remnants floating. Below is another orb, similar again. Familiarity.

With a gasp for air, Yerbol collapsed forward, forehead planted firmly on the ground in front. The frigid stone cooled his burning forehead, the Champion refusing to rise until he felt like his body temperature wasn't in the thousands. As he began to gather his senses, he could hear others gasping for breath and some muttering from someone close by, although he couldn't make out exactly what was said. He felt a hand grip his arm, Matthew's face greeting him upon looking up. The Elder's pupils were dilated, but other than that, he seemed fine.
"Come on, try and stand up. Staying down like this is only going to make things worse."
"Is that..." Yerbol finished the question after he was helped up to his feet.
"Normal?"
"With intense vision sharing like this, yes. The Mystics needed more of our energy than I thought, but what we got in return was thought provoking."
"Are they...they still here?"
"No. I snapped out of the trance with them just a few minutes ago. They could barely hobble out of the room, but they mentioned that we could see them later in the day tomorrow if need be. They had to 'collect themselves'. Kind of like you." Yerbol shot the Elder a menacing glare, to which he chuckled.
"Oh come on, don't be so sensitive. I was much worse off than you were the first time my Master had me do something like this." As the others regained their composure, Matt offered a proposition:
"I say we reconvene in the morning. We've all had a long enough day without having to sort through that vision. Aliel, Cheriss, you ok with that?" Yerbol stumbled over to his wife, placing a hand on her arm.
"You ok? That was...intense."

Aria turned her head slightly as her partner spoke up through their link, her shoulders rising in a minute shrug.
I dunno for sure, but if some of them remember Revan it must be a pretty long time, eh? Unless they have some kind of freaky hive-mind memory thing going on.

A shudder of discomfort rippled through the Champion's emotions at that consideration. It wasn't that she was afraid of giant bugs at all, more that trying to imagine any primitive insect-like hierarchy being applied by a more humanoid race was….really strange.

She drew her attention quickly back to the other Qyaari as Matt and the Mystics came to a sort of agreement whereby the Voss could give them the information they required if they would simply lend them the Force energies that would allow them to do so. It seemed a fair enough trade, therefore none of the Qyaari hesitated unduly before joining Yerbol and Matthew on the floor, Aria taking a space between Ailel and Cheriss. The floor was icy cold as the Champion settled into her usual meditative pose, prompting another brief shiver before she drew in a deep breath to center herself, allowing her eyes to drift closed under the directions of the speaking Mystic. The sensation that ensued was comparable to drifting off to sleep, if not for the odd collage of images that followed.

The images were not as clear as they would have liked (How could they be, after all, recalled from so long ago?), but they were all at once strange and new, and yet familiar at the same time.
Brief flashes of some sort of structure….floating above some sort of orb...underwater? Or somewhere else, Aria could not place it. Then again, the same structure? Or at least, parts of it…. floating in what could only be space. Then perhaps, this orb below it was….a planet or a moon?

She couldn't be sure. Her thoughts felt as if they were floating much like the pieces of metal, which she found herself drawn to with an odd sort of rapt fascination...but the longer the images flashed past her, the tighter her chest felt and the faster her heart began to beat. She couldn't make out the words exchanged between the two people, nor their faces in too much detail...the more she tried to study the images in greater detail, the weaker she began to feel until the Champion was jolted violently back into the present, drenched in a cold sweat and lungs screaming desperately for air. Aria was all too happy to oblige, face drenched in a cold sweat as she teetered forward, catching herself on her hands as she gulped shaky breaths to steady herself. At first, the voices seemed faint and far away, and as she tried to sit up again the Champion’s vision swam for a moment, before Ailel’s face came into focus.
“She’s alright, she’s coming back.” the blonde Elder spoke over her shoulder to Cheriss, who grunted and muttered:
“Good.” the Dathomirian leaned forward, eyes narrowed in contemplation as she studied Aria carefully. “You look a little green around the gills, kid. You feel okay?”
“F-Fine...I’m fine.” Aria protested, swallowing in an attempt to rid her mouth of the sour taste that had found its way there. “I just...need a minute.” she waved off Cheriss’ offered hand, not wanting to rise from her position lest she fall flat on her face again the moment she tried. Ailel, however, much like Matthew, was having none of it. The Elder scoffed loudly, grasping the Champion by the shoulder and hauling her to her feet.
“Up you get, or you’ll be down there longer than you think.”
Aria couldn’t contain the relief that flooded her when Matt suggested they rest for the night, even more so when Cheriss and Ailel conceded that the suggestion was a good one.
“Seems a fair course of action, we all have a lot to process.” Ailel nodded.

As the Elders began to disperse for the night and Yerbol approached her, she nodded shakily whilst fighting down another surge of bile that threatened to make itself known.
“Y-Yeah...I think I’ll be ok.” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair as she leaned slightly against his shoulder for support. “Just feel a little queasy...that was...WEIRD.”
It took another hour or so of sitting quietly in the visitors quarters they located (which had thankfully survived any major structural damage, though the same couldn't be said for the decor!), before the feeling of nausea fully abated and Aria felt more like herself again.
“What about you? Are you feeling okay?” She frowned at her husband, who settled beside her and gave a shrug of his own. “You still look a bit flushed, guess we both need sleep, huh?” there was a lot to discuss about what the Voss has shown them, but it certainly wasn't anything that couldn't wait until they'd had a good night's rest.

_______________

The next morning, the Qyaari reconvened in the same room, since it provided a large enough size for them all to fit into it comfortably and also gave them access to the star map database, should they need to locate any particular planet. Worriedly, Aria noted, Kira was nowhere to be found.
“...she'll come back, right?” the Champion asked as she pointed out the Knight's absence. Ailel sighed and shook her head.
“Kira just needs time to process things, Aria. She'll be back before we leave, I'm sure.” with that reassurance, the Elder returned them to the discussion at hand, the vision they had all shared.
“The two people we saw HAD to be Revan and Bastila...however, it's entirely possible that vision was from many years ago; which puts some doubt to whether they're even still alive, or where it is that they went to. That planet or moon, could be anywhere in the galaxy, perhaps even long since destroyed in the last war.”
“It IS still possible.” Aria pointed out. “Renso was even older than Revan, and so were the holograms he left in the temple on Quensu...they said they remembered TRAINING Revan. So if Yerbol and I were able to find and meet with Renso…” the Champion trailed off, hoping she didn’t sound as if she was rambling like a madman.
“Aria’s right.” it was a relief to hear Cheriss agreeing with her, accompanied by non-verbal nods of agreement from most of the other Elders. “So, if a thousand-year old Force user could have still been alive for a few years since our orders started collapsing, it’s possible Revan and Bastila have just been out of our radar for this long.”
“Still doesn’t solve the mystery of WHERE they went, though, does it?” Ailel pointed out, hands on her hips as she tried to think of a suggestion for their next course of action.
“Well, no.” Cheriss agreed, “But between all of us we SHOULD be able to figure it out, I should think.”
“It would make sense that it would be somewhere in Wild Space, would it not?” Malu chipped in, as always the Elder to provide the logical sentiment to keep the others on track. “Or else there would have been word of sightings...celebrities as much in the limelight as Revan or Bastila were would not go easily unnoticed in a public place.”
“Tell me about it.” Aria muttered wryly, knowing full well that Malu was right. The Champions themselves could scarcely go anywhere without getting recognised, and while for the most part it was nice that their accomplishments were being acknowledged...the attention was most times, very overwhelming. Their WEDDING, for Force sake, had somehow made it onto the HoloNet despite Aria’s initial misgivings on the coverage. She’d come to accept it for what it was, but that didn’t mean she liked it, at all.

“Well, we could be here months if we try scanning the entirety of Wild Space from one terminal.” Ailel coughed. “I would suggest we try and return to Zinuthra and make use of the facilities there. It would be far more expedient, and certainly more comfortable for everyone long-term.”
"We wouldn't have to scan the WHOLE of Wild Space." Malu protested with a shake of her head. "Only the ones with biomes that might match the one we saw in the vision."
"Which could be ANYTHING from rainforest to an entirely water-based planet like Manaan." Cheriss argued. "Far too many options for such a small terminal. Ailel's right, we should head back to Zinuthra before we try and explore this any further or we'll only be going around in circles."
“What about Voldon...?” Aria mumbled, the Champion unwilling to leave without addressing the metaphorical Bantha in the room.
“....The chances of us shifting enough rubble to get to him, Aria…” Cheriss sighed. “It wouldn’t be practical.”
While it stung to think they would have to leave their former leader buried under Force knows how many feet of debris, the Champion could see Cheriss’ point.
“I suppose you’re right.” she stuffed her hands into her pockets, shoulders hunched as she stifled an involuntary grumble. “B-But we can still do SOMETHING, right? Put him to rest. Like we did for the others.”
Thankfully, the Elders did not protest to the idea, if anything they were all in favour of it. Perhaps it was old superstition after all, but it had been a tradition that Force users had followed for millennia and it held enough merit that it made sense not to break it. After all, the alternative was a restless, disembodied spirit unable to find peace for all eternity...given their recent trip through the Nightmare Lands, Aria fancied she’d had enough of THOSE for a lifetime.

"You could say that. Although after our trip the Mystics took us on, I don't know if I really want to fall into too deep of a sleep. Dreams sound like a terrible exercise." He brushed some sediment from the pillow that survived the onslaught of Manus AND the Gormak before laying down completely, blowing out a sigh.
"We'll see if anything gets resolved tomorrow. I'm worried that what we saw was too vague and..." He shook his head.
"No use worrying about it now, right?"

____

He stood against the cool, cobblestone wall with his arms folded across his chest, aqua irises flickering back and forth to those who spoke at their morning council. Other than a few greetings, he stayed quiet; in fact, that was a running theme for his behavior that morning. Whatever power the Voss had sapped from him for the vision left him with an overwhelming feeling of fatigue that almost approached post-Illesia levels. Of course, they HAD just fought off yet another hostile takeover of the galaxy, so it made sense for his body to ache and protest, but to feel his...well, for lack of a better term, BEING wanting to collapse into an eternal hibernation was worrysome. He didn't want to talk to Aria about this, not until he was sure that it was something worthwhile to talk about, so when Aria prodded him about being so quiet over hastily devoured instant oats, he told her with a somewhat feigned smile that routinely fighting off galactic takeovers was catching up to him. That appeared to satisfy her, although he knew she would see through him sooner or later. But he couldn't burden her with this, especially not when they were potentially on the verge of discovering where Revan and Bastila went to. Speaking of that subject, the Qyaari assembled decided to head back to Zinuthra where they could conduct more of a thorough search and hold some kind of memorial service for the fallen Elder.
"A good idea. Once we make sure the Voss has enough Alliance personnel to help clean up Manus' disaster, we'll head back. You two, however-" He pointed at Aria, then Yerbol.
"You're going back to Zinuthra now. There's no point in keeping the two of you here."
"What do you want us to do when we get planetside?" That elicited a chuckle from Elder Carnagie, who told the Champion:
"Just put your feet up, for Force's sake. I'll head back with you along with another of the Elders to help calm any nerves that might have been frayed with all of us gone and then begin planning Voldon's service."
"So...we don't do anything?"
"I know, strange isn't it? Back in MY day, people who did monumental things to make sure galactic peace was preserved got a little time to take a breather. With how much loss has been experienced thanks to Manus, I think all of us will eventually need some kind of mental and physical break. You two just get yours a bit sooner than us." Yerbol would have normally protested this further, but in this situation all he did was smile sheepishly and thank the Elder for the opportunity. With a little bit more coordination between the Elders, it was decided that Matt, Aliel and the Champions would return to Zinuthra while Cheriss and Malu stayed behind to not only assist in clean up efforts, but to also make sure Kira came back with them in one piece. The Knight was missing in action even after the shuttle loading ramp closed and the four returning Qyaari were launched into hyperspace. All any of them could do was hope that Kira could get through this initial period of mourning and return home with them before making any other decisions. The Knight was known for being very creative with independent solutions to her problems and it was Voldon who normally kept those impulses at a healthy level. Without him, there was a possibility for Kira to fall back into old habits that were believed to be long gone. Matt and Aliel assured the Champions a couple of times during the journey back to Zinuthra that she would be fine, that she would recover just like "all of us will".

For some reason, Yerbol doubted that.

____

Zinuthra's ecology was difficult to predict, but the Alliance scientists posted on the Qyaari homeworld were beginning to pick up on weather patterns and when certain plants were "in season" or not. It so happened that the week leading up to Voldon's service was when the meditation garden used for Yerbol and Aria's wedding featured plants that would be in full bloom, displaying petals of crimson and orange alongside vibrant shades of green from the vines that intermingled along the cracking brick walls that formed a square perimeter around the area. It also happened to be a very stormy time across most of the planet, although the fierce rainfall and thunder didn't last for longer than thirty minutes at a time before giving way to full on sunshine, heating up the air. This created a less than pleasant atmosphere for the week's activities, which included making sure the student body didn't panic too much that the presiding Elder had died and creating all sorts of logistical arrangements for the service. Amidst the elevated bustle of the Academy grounds, Yerbol found himself playing the role of counselor, talking to students one on one or in small groups to not only assure them that the Qyaari would move forward stronger than ever, but to also hear their thoughts aired out in an informal setting. After all, he wasn't an Elder, so most students didn't automatically stiffen into a board when he entered the room and were a bit more forthcoming about what they were ACTUALLY thinking versus giving the Elders what they wanted(according to the students) to hear. Between talking with students and trying to sneak news about Voss' recovery from the Intelligence center, he spent time in meditation attempting to parse through the surge of exhaust that had overwhelmed him after their encounter with Manus. There was something within him that felt...wrong, almost violated in some way. Almost like the after-effects of Illesia's torture, but this was much more...gaping? A maw within himself? It was difficult to describe and even more difficult to hide what he was trying to discern from his wife, who quickly deciphered that something was wrong the first night they laid in bed together upon returning home. He could feel that she wanted to ask him about "whatever it was", but she didn't and hadn't the entire week. It was strange of her to NOT ask, but he suspected that she believed he was going through his own mourning process and needed time. A fair point. Maybe the losses were getting to him, maybe walking this path meant being comfortable with loss and-

His current meditation session was interrupted by the gentle wooshing sound of the sliding door to their quarters opening, the Champion opening his eyes to find that the dying rays of sunlight had given way to moonbeams that gave the petite figure in front of him an almost supernatural glow.
"Didn't expect you back so soon...otherwise I would've turned on a light." He jested weakly, looking up to his wife with a quizzical expression. Something was bothering her.
"What's wrong?" With this being the evening before the memorial service, the Champion knew that both of them would have to be emotionally strong, which probably meant getting anything between the two of them out in the open. Like what he was meditating about...which might have been the reason for his wife's current(perceived) agitation.
"Did I do something wrong? Because that look you're giving me normally means I did something wrong."

The entire atmosphere on Zinuthra seemed to have changed since their return, understandably so given that the news of Voldon’s passing would shake the whole order to its core. The coming weeks became so busy that it transpired she hardly saw Yerbol during the day, being that both Champions had their own duties to attend to. Despite being ordered to rest by both Ailel and Matthew, Aria found herself unable to do so. Instead, she wandered the Academy's halls, finding the occasional dejected student to whom she offered one to one meditation lessons, she may not have been the most approachable of the tutors (certainly her husband's people skills far surpassed her own), but Aria hoped that through aiding her pupils in their own grieving process that she might come to terms with her own; she found it was helpful, up until Paix and Waylon both shooed her from the classroom with stern instructions that “she should be resting, not teaching”. Frustrated, but unable to provide an argument to her case that the other instructors found satisfactory, Aria was forced to comply with their wishes.

Ever since returning from Voss, the Champion had found herself possessed of the same impersonal detachment that had kept her alive for sixteen years in the Sith regime. Such detachment now, however, was unwelcome and disconcerting. Aria knew she shouldn’t allow herself to be too drawn into those feelings, but since she had detected something, through their bond, that Yerbol was keeping hidden away from her, she had found it harder and harder not to withdraw back into her old habits. The Champion knew a better approach would have been to simply speak to Yerbol about it, and yet there was….SOMETHING within her that robbed her of the ability to commit to that decision. She had little doubt that it was a product of the encounters with Manus Vo, the man had been every bit Bracknell’s superior in both strategy and manipulation. Perhaps she hadn’t been entirely immune to the madman’s ramblings as she had previously thought, but rather too preoccupied with the task at hand to notice the effect they had on her psyche. Had the older instructors sensed it, too, and thus forbade her from entering another classroom until she dealt with it? In either case, without a distraction tactic, Aria found herself at a loss and beset with conflicting goals: she did not want to do NOTHING at all, and yet neither could she force her feet to make their way back to their shared quarters to confront Yerbol. Instead, Aria decided it would be best to leave the building and get rid of some of her pent up energy by following the jungle trails that branched out from the main settlement, absently tracking the native fauna simply to give her mind something to do, until her legs began to ache and she came to a stop beside one of the lakes. The purple-ish tint to the sky (caused by the dimming light refracting off the heavily crystallized rock which had first drawn the Qyaari to the planet two years ago) indicated that it was some time in the late afternoon, or perhaps early evening, she had been gone long enough and the others were likely worried about her... But before she headed back to the main complex, the Champion decided she may as well take advantage of the fresh air out here, and clear her mind. The service would be held tomorrow, and after that….Force knew what the Elders would ask them to do. She couldn’t afford to be bogged down by such mental burdens. While it didn’t settle her worries entirely, an hour of meditation DID help Aria to settle her nerves enough to make a decision. As she opened her eyes again, the fading rays of Zinuthra’s suns reflected off the band on her ring finger and she sighed softly to herself.
“For better or worse...well, guess this counts as worse, huh?”
She had never felt more ridiculous in her life. She HAD to talk to him.

By the time she had returned to the main building, the moon was already out, casting just enough light for her to find her way back without much need to enhance her vision with Force techniques. Inside, the lights appeared to be off and she wondered if her husband was already asleep, so made her approach quietly and hoped that the sound of the door opening wouldn’t disturb him if he was. When she heard him speak, however, she relaxed a little bit, stepping over the threshold and shuffling closer to him.
“N-No, you didn’t...I…” she trailed off, plopping herself down beside him. “I was being a brat, and I overreacted...I’m sorry. I just, needed time to think.” she kept her gaze dropped away from his, fixed instead on her hands which she kept knitted together in her lap, as she fumbled for the right words to say. Eventually, the diminutive Champion spoke up again, her voice quiet.
“I hate this….like ever since we came back we hardly know each other.” Aria wrung her hands together in agitation, shoulders slumping slightly. “I just...it feels like there’s something you’re not telling me and after everything that happened with Manus and on Voss I...I got caught up in my own head and I got upset, and I started taking it out on you and I shouldn’t have.”
Finally shifting her position to turn and look at him, Aria scooted a bit closer and placed her hand over his. “I love you, no matter what. And I just want you to know that you don’t...you don’t HAVE to tell me anything if you’re not ready to. But when you are, I’m here.” the Champion cleared her throat again, trying to stifle the tears that threatened to fill her eyes at the thought that what they had been through on Voss could have almost threatened their relationship if she hadn’t seen sense.

“I just...I need to know that you’re okay. That WE’RE okay.”

He wiped his brow of imagined nervous sweat, laughing gently as she sidled next to him.
"And I thought I was going to be in for a verbal thrashing." A boulder of a lump formed in his throat as she told him about her own inner conflict, protesting that she was the cause of their divide. This irked the Champion, who knew all too well that his secrecy was what had caused it. She wouldn't have HAD these feelings if he had just opened up to her, told that he would need some time to process. That was it, wasn't it? Just communicate and she wouldn't be beating herself up for a perceived slight against their relationship. He chided himself even more when she reached out and took his hand, telling him that she would be more than happy to discuss whatever was bothering him on his timeline and all she wanted was assurances.
"That makes sense, you know. Wanting assurances." He paused, shaking his head with an apologetic chortle.
"I was finishing my line of thought aloud again. That's going to be a habit that I'll have to break sometime." Clearing his throat, he continued, all the while leaving his hand in hers:
"You've been patient with me this week and I really, REALLY appreciate it. Voss was...well, not just Voss, but what Manus did was more far-reaching than I thought. I should've shared this with you last week. I know I should've. Especially considering that most of your life, secrecy was used almost like a weapon. Concealed motivations, agendas, backstabbings...and to think I conjured up those feelings in you again is reprehensible. I'm sorry. I promise you that will not happen again." He planted a kiss on the side of her head, drawing her closer by placing an arm around her shoulders. He didn't speak for a few moments, enjoying the moments of quiet solitude that were growing fewer in number as the months went by. Yerbol quietly promised to fix that, affirming the resolution in his mind with solemnity before proceeding:
"It started RIGHT after the vision with the Mystics. I woke up in a daze and I just never felt like I've recovered from the sheer exhaust that accompanied our exit from the trance. The exhaust, though, is symptomatic of something....weird inside of me." He shook his head.
"Bad phrasing. Not weird. Just...empty. Like I was wounded somehow and can't find where exactly the injury is, so it's just kind of bleeding all over the place. Which is morbidly amusing considering that the injury has made me feel numb." He was quick to clarify:
"Not numb physically or emotionally, but...with the Force. Like there's a disconnect between my 'energy' and the larger scheme of the Force as a whole. I mean, I can still USE the Force, but using it doesn't...fulfill me." He looked down at her with a grimace.
"I've been doing reading, researching as much as I can and I've come up with nothing, which is all the more frustrating. All I can do right now is chalk it up to how much loss we've experienced. Not just with Manus, but..." His gaze drifted to the floor.
"But ever since we've been fighting together. Just the sheer volume of loss that we've seen, we've contributed to...do you think that might be destabilizing my connection to the Force somehow? That by fighting for the Qyaari ideal of balance that we've become imbalanced? I know that Manus alluded to that a few times when we met with him, but I shrugged it off as trying to unnerve us. Was he right?" His lips pursed together in thought for a moment or two before continuing:
"Maybe this was why the Sith didn't work. Renso talked about infighting that eventually led to that total imbalance of the Force. I hope for all our sakes that we don't go down the same road. I don't think the galaxy could afford to witness yet another collapse of an order dedicated to the Force." A sigh escaped, leaning the side of his head against hers.
"But look at me, being so morbid the evening before Voldon's funeral. I think if I told him all this, he would tell me in no uncertain terms that I needed to be stronger and look past the failings of history, to 'seize the present with all of your might' in order to create a better future." That particular saying quoted by the Champion was often heard when Voldon delivered special lectures on Jedi history, attempting to convey to the students listening that while they may be studying the past, it was what they did with their time now that was of utmost importance.
"What do you think? Am I being a little too reflective?"

“It’s not your fault, really.” she insisted. “I was being silly, I should have trusted you more. Guess interacting with Manus made me slip back into being paranoid and bitchy.” she shrugged, sitting quietly as Yerbol spoke about what had been bothering him, her head resting gently on his shoulder as she simply took in what he had to say and tried to digest the meaning behind it. When he asked her what she thought about the points he had raised, the Champion chewed her lip thoughtfully.
“No, no...I THINK I understand what you mean. Well, maybe not all of it.” She conceded. “I can see why you'd be worried about changes to your connection with the Force...I can't say I've heard of anything like it before, but there MUST be a solution. If there’s nothing here on Zinuthra, maybe there are other Force users like Kartan and Viqi scattered around that might know more.” Aria felt it was a rather paltry suggestion, given how much it had affected her husband, but at least it was a further course of action which was better than not knowing where to turn next, wasn't it?
“As far as Manus’ ideals go...I admit that since we first met him on Kashyyyk it HAS been something that bothered me a little.” She had pushed it aside at first, unsure whether it had been some sort of mind trick on Manus’ part, but hearing Yerbol voice a similar tangent of thought was comforting. “Since the Qyaari have become more prominent throughout the Alliance worlds, there’s been a lot more pressure on us to always do “the right thing”.” - quotation marks accompanied the loose statement - “The trouble is, sometimes...the right thing for one set of people won’t help others, will it? It can be pretty difficult for us to balance that and still, you know, practise what we preach; so of course it’s possible we’ve changed as a whole order. Even Voldon changed after Manus showed up, ALL the Elders did, in one way or another…Voldon was so determined to stop Manus that he would’ve done ANYTHING to make sure it happened, even if it meant he had to sacrifice himself.” as the memory of the officiating Elder’s loss resurfaced, Aria’s voice dropped to a quieter tone and trailed off into another sigh.

“We can’t change the past, sure, but we mustn’t lose sight of what we meant to do when we all came together anyway. Perhaps we have lost our way a bit….and as bad as it may seem now, maybe with Voldon gone it’s the Force’s way of trying to give us a fresh start, to fix the problems before they become bigger ones that we CAN’T fix.”
Aria fell silent again for a moment, before she snorted loudly. “Listen to us, we sound just like Elders.” a half-hearted chuckle escaped the Champion as she kicked off her boots and scooted up to the pillows on her side. “We should try and get some sleep….I think tomorrow’s going to be an emotionally taxing day for everyone.”

It was Yerbol's turn to listen and he was happy to do so. One of the reasons why he felt like their relationship and subsequent marriage worked so well was that they were willing to not only share their innermost thoughts, but also hear what the other had to say. Even when they were tenuous allies on their first mission to Quensu, it just felt very...natural to have dialoge like this. Regarding their current dialogue, Aria brought him back to their most current situation. On any other day, Yerbol might have balked at Aria's suggestion about Voldon's death, but after all that had happened...
"I think you might be right about that." He laid back onto their bed, eyes cast up at the luminscient ceiling caused by the now half-full moon.
"Voldon had a powerful voice, one that was needed to help pull us together in times of massive crisis, but maybe it was time for him to depart." He turned his head to meet his wife's gaze as he continued:
"It seemed like he knew that, too, didn't he? Didn't seem like the other Elders shared the feeling except for Cheriss. Maybe after doing what he needed to do, the Force gave him a premonition that his sacrifice would be necessary in order to thwart Manus' attempts to undermine all the work that Qyaari have done in restoring a shred of balance to the Force." He placed a hand on Aria's arm with a half-smile.
"I think I need to follow your advice at this particular juncture, however, and stop talking. Tomorrow is going to be taxing on almost every level imaginable." Yerbol drew a bit closer, planting a gentle kiss Aria's lips before telling her quietly:
"I'm glad that we're not trying to go through this on our own. Because I'd be a mess without you."

_____

It was surreal to see the meditation garden illuminated by the early morning sun. Orange and crimson hued flowers were gently bobbing in the breeze almost in full bloom, vines were wrapped lazily around the terraced walls and on the northern most part of the meditation garden stood the remaining Elders and Kira, their normal attire exchanged for robes of midnight black. They were in a loose circular formation around a steely grey rectangular coffin with the lid half open. If one drew closer, they would find that instead of a body, there were personal effects of the deceased Elder, one of which was an ornately carved lightsaber hilt being placed by Kira, her eyes shimmering as she whispered something so gently that no one else except she would ever hear. Aliel's arm traced across Kira's shoulders, which the Knight allowed for a moment, but then shrugged off, kneeling beside the coffin as she traced her hand over the inner lining, across the mementos of a life that she thought would never end in a stroke of romantic naivety. Her hand rested once more on the hilt, shoulders slumping, tears sullying the silk interior. Aliel's comfort wasn't rebuffed this time as she helped Kira to her feet and embraced the Knight tightly as the other Elders turned to face the entrance of the garden to greet the Champions who they had summoned rather early (5 in the morning) via holocom. Thankfully Aria had suggested they get dressed and not listened to her groggy husband who claimed they were just fine in what they were wearing, which featured Yerbol in a black suit, white shirt and black tie that attempted to reflect the solemnity of the occasion.

"Forgive the early summons, but this felt more appropriate." Matt's face flickered briefly with a smile before he motioned to the other Elders.
"The larger memorial service is, unfortunately, going to be an affair that involves too many than we'd like, but given our political ties to the Alliance, we had to allow it."
"I know that this was going to be a large event, but how man-"
"Chancellor Saresh and the entire Alliance cabinet will be in attendance along with other key diplomats across the Core worlds and even some from the Outer Rim."
"Oh."
"Not to mention increased security from potential jaded Sith or Jedi who would want to disrupt the service, Holonet reporters who do have a right to record an event like this for the rest of the galaxy to see and the entire populace of Zinuthra along with guests we did not foresee coming."
"Wow."
"Indeed." Malu spoke in affirmation, then added:
"Which is why we're here now. To pay our respects to Voldon in our own way. We thought you both would appreciate the opportunity to do so."
"Thank you...thank you so much."
"You two fought alongside him the most out of all of us except for Kira. It was the least we could do." Kira, who was now free from the embrace, attempted a smirk as she looked to the recent additions to the mourning party.
"He liked you two, you know. Thought you had valor, heart and all that noble stuff. Probably why he kept insisting that he go with you out in the field."
"That's...wow, that's probably the most praise I'll ever hear from him." Kira chuckled at the truism.
"Big guy wasn't too big on doling out the praise...or speaking about emotions, but when he did, he was thoughtful, articulate, sensitive, even." She cleared her throat, eyes misting over as she looked at the coffin once more. Silence descended upon the party for a few moments before Matt broke it:
"The event crew will be arriving soon, so we'll have to disperse. The service won't start until ten. I recommend we do what we can to help the students and faculty arrange the Academy's dining area and main hall for our influx of visitors." He glanced to the Champions and told them:
"Feel free to say your peace now. You won't have the time later."

It proved wise indeed for the Champions to have chosen to rest, given their early summons the very next morning. Neither one of them had wanted to rouse so early, but after a moments consideration they both seemed to agree that the Elders would not have asked for them without good reason.
“C’mon.” Aria mumbled, nudging her husband gently with her foot as she fought to banish the groggy haze of sleep from her own mind. “We shouldn't keep them waiting.”
Initially, her suggestion was met with a protesting grumble as he rolled over, pulling the covers tighter around his body.
“Few more minutes….then we can go, need more sleep…”
“Not if we're gonna get changed first.” this, too, Yerbol had tiredly protested against, until his wife sat up and raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.
“You're going to go dressed like THAT?”
“Wha’s wrong with what I'm wearing?” he grumbled, half sitting up and peering at her skeptically.
“Do you really want to discuss the odds of how many cameras are going to turn up to this service? Cause I can make an inferred guess that the answer is “a LOT”, Bol.”
Her observation seemed to win him over, the Champions dragging themselves from the comfort of the bed to change their attire to something more appropriate for the occasion.
_________________________

If Matt’s estimate was to be believed, Aria was profusely glad that she had insisted they changed. It wouldn’t do any good to look like a pair of vagabonds in front of the Chancellor, after all. Maybe she DID inherit some of her mother’s talent for public speaking and all the drawl that came with it, after all. She turned to offer Malu her own nod of gratitude.
“We do very much appreciate it, thank you. It...wouldn’t be right not to say anything and I don’t know if I could in front of so many.” she’d never admit it but whenever there were cameras involved Aria found herself often prone to developing sudden and debilitating stage fright. Perhaps it was the feeling of constantly being judged or having more than just the “in-the-flesh” audience hanging on one’s every word, but who could say-

Kira broke into her wayward train of thoughts, offering some heartfelt sentiments on the deceased Elder’s opinion of herself and Yerbol. The Champion couldn’t help but to offer Kira a watery smile.
“Thanks Kira, it...means a lot to hear that.” even if it wasn’t from Voldon’s mouth directly, it was comforting...an honor, even, in a way, to know that he had thought so highly of them. “I only hope we continue to live up to those expectations…” a glance was thrown towards the coffin. “I suppose that’s the best we can do for him, now. Keep upholding what he helped us to build and make sure the Qyaari carry on for a long time to come.”
“Tsk, you sound just like him already.” Cheriss huffed querulously, though despite the Elder’s gruff tone there was a glimmer of fondness in her eyes as she spoke. Her demeanour, too, told of an inner turmoil of emotions that she fought to hide from her companions - her arms crossed tightly across her torso and shoulders hunched tensely, as if she were shrinking away from an unseen chill in the air. At mention of the events crew, Aria swallowed and nodded in response, although she hung back as Yerbol drifted a bit closer to the coffin to say his own words in deference to the fallen Elder. In truth, she wasn’t really sure what else she COULD say, flowery speeches had never been her forte, and yet Voldon had been such an integral being to much of the Champions’ training that she felt she couldn’t walk away without saying anything at all. As Yerbol appeared to conclude whatever he had been saying, Aria herself stepped forward and dropped onto one knee beside the coffin. The Champion heaved a quiet sigh, a short moment of contemplative silence following before she managed to find the correct words.
“I’m glad that we made you proud....and honoured to have fought beside you.” like the others, Aria spoke barely at a whisper, the words were meant only for Voldon - if his spirit could indeed hear them, wherever it was at this moment - and not for any other ears. “I don’t know what we’re going to do without you...but I suppose if you were here you would have told me that was ‘part of the learning process’, wouldn’t you?” a fond smile creased her features. “I just hope that whatever happens, you’ll still be proud of wherever the Qyaari go from here. We couldn’t have started this without you, but I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make sure our legacy lives on, until I’m ready to join you.” swiping a hand across her eyes to rid them of any potential moisture that had built up, Aria rose to her feet and turned back to the other Qyaari members, nodding her head.
“Well then, I suppose we’d better make sure we’re ready for their arrival.”

The preparations themselves went as smoothly as they could have hoped. Every student at the Academy stood at the ready and willing to follow any instructions given: for tasks varying from sweeping leaves out of the gutters and clearing the pathways to various entrances, to laying out cutlery and table placings along the lengths of the tables in the dining hall (this was quite a feat in and of itself, taking the Champions, a Knight and a gaggle of ten younglings to fully complete).

By the time they were satisfied the interior of the building looked presentable enough for their visitors and returned to the meditation garden where the main portion of the service would be held, Ailel and Malu were hanging up the last of the bouquets while the older students helped them put the finishing touches to the aesthetics. Neither Kira nor Cheriss were anywhere to be seen. Aria certainly wouldn't have blamed the redheaded Knight if she chose not to attend the memorial at all.
“It looks...nice.” Aria managed as they approached the Elders.
“We hope so.” Ailel agreed, sighing as the whine of a hyperdrive engine echoed from overhead. The Qyaari in the garden all looked up as the transport broke the atmosphere, following the guide beacons into the safe landing zone. “That'll be the first of the guests, I imagine.” The Elder announced, dusting off the front of her robe. “We'd better round up the younglings and let the other Elders know.” she turned towards the Champions, offering a slight smile. “I think Cheriss will want you to come with her to greet the Chancellor, so you two had best prepare yourselves as well.”

Aria couldn't help but roll her eyes.
You know, sometimes I think they force us into these political meetings on purpose...can you even remember the last time we WEREN'T asked to be in attendance? Somehow, I don't think it's just because we've saved the galaxy a few times.