Rego nodded as he followed the others into the secret passage. It was odd to him that he had never been told of these secret passageways before, that seemed like something important to tell the Jedi, but then again, he doubted that anyone would be bold enough to launch an attack on the Jedi Temple. He clenched his lightsaber, then decided that there were likely no threats in the passageway ahead, so he holstered his weapon, freeing his hand. He then heard the padawan speak her concerns, sounding frightened of what was happening. Rego replied, trying to reassure her and the others.

"The Jedi Temple has been attacked before, young padawan, but it always has been rebuilt. The Jedi always find a way, we shall this time too." He said quietly, trying to make his voice sound confident when he deep down really was not. In fact he felt overwhelmed with emotions, not entirely sure what to feel. The clones, soldiers specifically created to fight alongside the Jedi, had turned on the Jedi. even worse, a powerful Sith Lord was leading them against the Jedi. Today was a dark day in the galaxy, he couldn't begin to fathom the implications this would have. So many trusted the Jedi and depended on them. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to block out the dark thoughts, he needed to stay positive, there was hope, there's always hope.

The sound of Training Lightsaber hitting Training Lightsaber. Kolinn's blade attacking mercilessly, her master, Jonni, deflecting every blow whilst appearing to exude the most minimal of effort. "Your blows are too angry." he said. "Calm your mind and you will see everything." Kolinn locked lightsabers with him, before pushing him a few feet.

"I... I am sorry, Anger is what I know best..." she seethed.

"Indeed, we will need to change this." he said, calmly. "Your anger will never be able to overcome anybody's calm. Contrary to Sith doctrine, Anger does not lead to power, it leads to stupid." he watched her pull back her lightsaber and strike at him in a flurry. "Like so." waiting for the opportunity, he easily deflected a blow, before prodding her knee with the training saber, sending a powerful electrical currant through it, forcing her to the ground. He picked her up and dusted her off. "See, Anger clouds the mind and the vision, when all you see is red, you are blinded to all other colours." he turned off the training lightsaber and bent down, rubbing her knee to make it feel better.

"Yes, Master." she said.

"Right, deep breath." he ordered. She breathed in heavily, then exhaled heavily. "Better?" he asked.

"Better." she replied.

"Now, come at me, but this time with calm, not anger." he said, re-engaging his lightsaber. They circled one another, slowly, before she crept towards him, slowly moving her lightsaber around, trying to gauge his movements, before slowly moving it towards his shoulder, before quickly flicking it down to hit his side, he blocked the training blade, and she flicked it back up to his shoulder, blocked again, before finally throwing it around his body to strike at his other side that he blocked again. "Good, you are attacking with calm."

"And it's not working." she seethed.

"Of course not, calm doesn't mean slow. Speed up." he laughed. "But your form is much better." he struck at her with 5, lightning fast slashes, she blocked all of them. "HAHA! See, with calm flowing through you, you saw my attacks. This form is for defensive means, it allows you to predict your opponents moves." he slashed several more times, she blocked them, but parry'd the last one and tapped his side, and he seethed, falling to his knee. "So that you may last long enough to exploit their weaknesses when they make themselves known. Thus is the art of Soresu." he said, as she helped pull him to his feet.

"I... Understand." she said. At that point, the sound of blasters discharging and screaming could be heard. "What the-" Without warning, the wall behind them exploded, showering them in debris. One hitting her squarely in the head, knocking her out. Jonni running over to her to shield her from anything else, looking out, he saw an LAAT attacking. He waved his arms.

"HEY!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!" He yelled, before another volley of cannonfire brought the whole room crashing down around them. Jonni, using the force to grab several of the larger chunks of rubble to throw at the gunship. Forcing it to retreat, but not before firing at him, several times with its large cannons...

Alaric tore through the halls of the Jedi Temple like a raging beast, avoiding combat wherever he could, and overwhelming the foes he could not avoid. He refrained from using his lightsaber, for the most part, preferring instead to barrel into errant clones, rolling over them and dispatching them with mighty stomps and blows to the weak points in their armor. He must have crushed a dozen spines and windpipes en route from the training hall to the place he had last seen Master Yorik.

So fast did the Feeorin Jedi fall upon stray clones, they had little time to react. Nonetheless, their training proved superb, as he had come away from several encounters with smoking, stinging wounds. Glancing blows, yes, but the only reason he had not been crippled by them was through considerable focus on the practice he had been introduced to by Yorik; Tutaminis.

His grasp of the technique was firm, but the application was where he fell short. Alaric always seemed to either focus too much on the technique, at the cost of situational awareness, or vice versa.

As such, he had slowed considerably by the time he reached one of the many classrooms, limping with each step on his left leg, and holding onto his right side tenderly.

I must find him. Alaric thought, searching rooms quickly, and reaching out with his senses for the familiar presence of his master.

“Alaric!” The old man croaked feebly. The Feeorin perked up at the call, and hurried to find the source, following his ears as much as his Force sense.

Alaric found his master lying against a wall, right hand clutching a pattern of charred blaster wounds in his chest. A number of clone troopers lay around him, dismembered with the unnervingly clean strokes of his lightsaber, which lay on his lap.

“Master!” He cried, rushing to his side and dropping to a kneel, placing his hands on the old man’s shoulder and his knee, surveying the damage that had been done by the clone trooper’s weapons.

“We are lost, I fear… My time is coming to an end.”

“No, we can get you to the medical ward, and… And…”

“Even if the facilities were intact, which is surely not so, too much damage has been done. I have only managed to remain conscious this long by strenuous effort… You must escape, my Padawan… There are others, fleeing through the secret passages. Give them whatever aid you can...” Yorik was growing pale, and cold. And Alaric could feel his pulse slowing.

“Master… Why did this happen?”
“The Dark Side has concealed our enemies… And they have revealed themselves now. There is nothing to be done, except to flee, regroup, and rebuild. The time will come again for the Jedi to bring peace to the galaxy, but it is going to be almost impossible… This was an admittedly brilliant stroke…”

Alaric raised his hands from Yorik, furrowing his brow and feeling the unfamiliar tears return to his eyes as he clenched his fists against his thighs.

“Take… My lightsaber… And my datapad… They are yours now, son…” Yorik gasped, holding said items out with weak, shaking hands.

Alaric opened his eyes, vision blurry with tears, and gently took the items from his master.

“You will be avenged, master…”

“Seek only peace… Alaric…” Yorik grunted, giving him an impressively sharp stare for a man on his deathbed. The Feeorin opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it.

“Good… Now run… And save any survivors you find…”

Alaric stood, bowed his head, and turned to leave, feeling a great, frigid hollow space growing within his gut.

As he left the room, Alaric felt the presence of his master fluctuate within the Force, before going out. The Feeorin choked back his anguish as he staggered to the closest set of secret passages, passed into them, and hurried to find an escape route, as well as some other survivors.

Colab with Sep

Kalmi turned a corner just outside the archives as another explosion rocked the temple from nearby, her first through had been to head to the hangers and find a craft to escape with, that had been pure instinct though and while she thought about a little she realised that would be one of the first places the clones would have attacked. the whole temple shock a moment later and she realised her line of thinking was accurate. The service tunnels in the lower levels then, or the cargo area perhaps, few people went down there unless they needed to, maybe the clones would miss it on their first sweep and offer those that were quick enough a chance to slip through. She passed another intersection that lead towards the main archives and saw another jedi grasping to life still, a Noghri she recognised though did not know by name, he taught sabre combat in the temple she thought, or at least had she corrected herself sharply as she went to him. “Easy brother,” She said as she offered her arm in support, “You don’t look so hot right now.” she added with a half smile. The temple might be coming down around them, but a positive manner never hurt she believed.

He raised his arm off her. “Why rest is what my body requires, if I am to rest my concentration on the Force will lessen and I will not be able to keep fighting, I will rest once we are safe or once I have been healed to some degree.” He stretched his arms, the short rest had sent them to sleep. Pain enveloped his back as he did so. He could no longer sense his padawan, he felt that he must be lost forever one with the Force. He too would welcome becoming one with the Force however he could not. The survivors of the Jedi Order were the future of all that was right with the Galaxy and only if they survived could they bring the order back. “We must head to the lower levels, there is a way out of the temple via the-” He nearly collapsed though readied himself as the pain took him for a moment. “-via the Cargo bays in the lower levels. It will be difficult however it is our only way…”

“I was thinking we should head in that direction already.” Kalmi replied as she started moving off. “You may not be in much of a condition to get that far if we can’t find a healer however.” She said a moment later. Another explosion rocked the temple, this time a little more distant. “You are right though we need to keep moving regardless." she added before she set off down the corridor at a slightly quickened post, hoping the noghri could keep up in his state. “I’m Rivers by the way, Kalmi Rivers, you taught sabre combat right.” She said as they moved along, hoping that some low conversation would keep him alert while hopefully not giving away their position to clones they hadn’t seen yet.

Vor’loch indicated to a panel in the wall. “Use the force to remove that panel to access a door, I dare not let my concentration waver. Also I am Vor’loch and I did indeed teach Sabre Combat, to younglings and Padawans alike, when I was not fighting during the wars.” He turned his head slightly as he heard something fall, naught but rubble. Though there was a strange presence in the temple that much was clear. “I do indeed need a healer however if you are not one we should not stop… ah….” He moved over to a clone body and bending over, painfully, he extracted a bacta-patch. It was only one and could do very little but every little helped. He placed it on one of the worse burns on his back. “I wish I had only thought of that anyway-” He waved at the door. “Anyway, lead on. We must hurry, I sense a new presence in this temple… many of them. Hungry… I do not think this is a good thing for us.”

“Few things are today it seems.” Kalmi replied absently a she removed the panel and triggered the door release. “You go first.” she said “Chances are good the clones aren't in these passages yet so I’ll cover the rear in case the get in behind us.” she added confidently as she gripped her pike tightly for a moment.

Kraytan closed the door to the secret passage as the clones came around the corner. They saw nothing and continued on marching in large numbers. Their feet sent vibrations throughout the floor that could be felt strongly by those behind the secret passage door. Kraytan turned and began walking down the path that was dimly lit by yellow lights that were apart of Jedi Temple Guard Statues that lined the hall on each side. He ushered for the others to follow as he led them down the turning halls of the Temple's secret passages. Many no doubt were wondering about the passages, and while he was never allowed to disclose any information regarding them, that no longer mattered. They were used by the Temple Guards to move quickly throughout the Temple so they could response to emergencies fast, but once again that no lingered mattered. Eventually he heard voices, familiar voices and that was good. As the group turned one more corner they entered a large circular chamber that had 12 large Temple Guard Statues with Lightsaber pikes that lit up the room very nicely. In the room he could see a dozen Jedi or so. Bodies littered the sides of the room of those who did not survive their injuries. The dozen that remained looked like they would soon join the ranks of those who went on to be with the Force.

"Kraytan! You're alive thank the Force!" Deja exclaimed as she saw him come from one of the passages with a group of padawans and another knight. Kraytan politely bowed as was the formal greeting between guards, she didn't return it, but the situation they were in made formalities really a thing of the past.

"I am alive indeed, I have gathered all of the survivors I can, were is the Temple Master, I must speak with him about coming up with an escape plan." Kraytan said looking around the room. He noticed two other Temple Guards, one with a charred shoulder from a blaster bolt, the other looked like he had escaped the onslaught untouched. Deja looked to her feet when Kraytan brought up the Temple Master. Even though he could not see her face underneath her mask, he could feel without her telling him that the Temple Master was no more.

"He and a few other Guards and survivors had tried to move down through the maintenance shafts that run underneath the Temple, but something attacked them. It wasn't clones, it was something more vicious, terrifying, a true hunter and killer, savage in all ways. I have never sensed anything like it before, but whatever they were I sense they have made their way up and into the Temple." Deja replied to Kraytan. The situation kept on getting grimmer for them, whatever these creatures were they were going to be a nuisance to them escaping alive.

"Get everyone who can walk to get ready. Everyone who is critical condition..."

"Kraytan we can't just leave them! This may be all that is left of the Order!" Deja said in a loud voice surprised he would even think such a thing. Kraytan grabbed her by the shoulders, no doubt some of the others were watching.

"Deja you are a Jedi Temple Guard, we are Jedi Temple Guards. We took an Oath to serve the Order and the Force as Jedi. We took an Oath to Protect the Temple and the Order as Temple Guards. The Temple has fallen, the Temple Master's last orders were to retreat and to get all survivors to safety. No I do not want to leave anyone behind, but as Temple Guards we must stand twice as far away from our emotions and must be as objective as possible, that is why we wear these masks. To symbolize that we are detached from this world. Now I don't want to leave anyone behind, but you're right this is the last of the Order, and I cannot risk the last of the Order trying to transport those who may or may not die and putting the risk of those who can stand and fight lives in jeopardy. We must leave those who will slow us down... Now round up everyone and get them mobile. We are heading to the Cargo Bay."

The rubble from the room began to unsettle and shift as Kolinn began moving it with her mind. Picking it up and moving it, she crawled to freedom. "Wha..." she looked around. "Master...?" she asked, weakly. "Master...?" she then noticed that, over her was her masters robes. "Wha..." she panted. Her master must have left for help, leaving her under the rubble so that... Whoever was responsible for this, didn't find her. Getting up, she grabbed her arm. It was broken in several places. She seethed as she put her masters robe on, and fashioning a sling from the sleeve. "Master...?" she called once again. She then saw on the ground an unthinkable thing... Her masters Lightsaber. Picking it up, she looked it over. " Igniting its blue blade. "Why would you...?" she retracted the blade and made her way out of the room, she saw them, dead bodies everywhere... Jedi and Clones. 'Did the Seperatists attack again? A bold move, they must have got close with hijacked LAAT's.' she thought. Limping through them. But then passed the large blue corpse of one of the Jedi's Brute guards. Kneeling down, she examined the body. He wasn't killed by a Blaster... But by a Lightsaber. But wasn't Grievous dead? And the last of the Seperatists Lightsaber weilding forces with him? The news had only broke an hour ago... But he was supposedly killed on Utapau? there was no way he could have gotten from Utapau to here in that time. What the hell had happened. And the fact that most of the Clones had lightsaber wounds, and the way they were lying... Combined with how several of the other dead Jedi appeared to have died from blaster wounds... It almost looked as though the Clones and Jedi had been fighting one another.

She heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She hid behind a pillar as they passed. She watched as 3 clones walked down the corridor, each of them firing a single shot into the Jedi corpses as they passed. "Make sure they are dead." said the sergeant. Kolinns heart sank as she heard this. The Clones must have broke their programming and gone rogue. "I don't want to be the one to tell Lord Vader that we missed some." And who was this Lord Vader, she had never heard that name before. As they walked over the corpse of the Brute she had examined, and, using the force, activated the Brutes lightsaber, the green blades extended and were pulled towards her, cutting the clones off at the knees. Catching the double-ended lightsaber, she quickly silenced the clones, standing over their corpses, she seethed. "Damn you..." she whispered. Then remembered her masters words. "Anger leads to stupid" She needed to survive for the moment, and getting angry would make that job harder. She limped away from them, trying to find someone... Anyone to help. If she could reach one of the service hatches, she could get down into the sewers and escape that way.

The young Anzati and the young Nautolan had very little in common. They were both Jedi younglings, but one was an amphibian while the other was quite terrestrial. Zak, the green skinned boy with his large, solid black eyes, was the clan's best swordsman. SJ, on the other hand, with his human features, was the better at Force manipulation. One might grow up to be a great Jedi, the other was destined to become a great monster -- with hope that Jedi training might allow him to off-set his predatory nature.

With all their differences, they were friends. Now, they seemed more than that, clinging to one another for emotional support as the two boys trailed alongside and behind the Vahla padawan. The images of what they saw were reflected in their eyes. Bodies, propped up against the wall, lying prone on the floor, many missing parts or limbs or with terrible wounds that left no question as to their death. The smell of death choked their nostrils, sickening as it hung in the air. The sounds of the dying echoed through the halls.

If there was a hell, then surely they had found it.

As he overheard the Temple Guards arguing, new tears slipped down his face for the realization that they were leaving those not yet dead to die here, alone. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem Jedi. But, for all he had witnessed, Sor-Jan wasn't certain he knew what a Jedi was anymore. He had seen bravery, courage... and a savageness that had been too real, too primal.

He was scared and confused. All he could think of now was that he wanted to leave this place.

His breathing came quick and hard, the effort straining his already-overworked body. Despite his screaming muscles and gasping lungs, the boy pushed himself on. His limbs danced through the complicated routine as he willed his body to follow, shutting out the sounds and sensation of the blaster bolts passing harmlessly to either side. They moved with him, but he was too fast, always dodging in time, or moving the emerald-hued blade of his training lightsaber up to block the deadly bolts. The shock of the bolts connecting with his lightsaber blade made the boy wince every time it happened, rattling the joints of his arm as he absorbed the shock and tried his best to aim the deflecting bolts back to their origin.

As the session continued, his arm began to weaken and the bolts flew askew, far from their intended destinations. He paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his cotton tunic, a move that exacted a heavy price, the red lasers zeroed in on their target and unleashed a hailstorm of bolts. If the boy jumped, the bolts flew skyward. If he ran, they followed him. Through the dampened locks of hair that hung down across his eyes, their normal blond color darkened by heavy sweat, he could see the mechanisms firing the bolts, tracking him as he moved, slowly wearing him down while they, as machines, continued in perfect synchronization.

Jerek Zenduu was well aware of just how quickly he needed to finish off his antagonists. The simple way, the easy way, would have been an attack of pure aggression. The blade of his lightsaber could easily cut through the automaton's motors, severing their link to the weapons, destroying their ability to wage war against him. Yet even as the beleaguered youth knew the ease at which this method would end it, he could not set himself upon that path. To do so would be to defy his master's instructions, instructions that Vor'loch gave quite seriously.

Sending another blaster bolt straight back at one of the targets, causing it to hiss as it burst into a miniature explosion of smoke and flames, Jerek permitted himself to grin. He considered it a personal point of pride to achieve a successful score in this exercise, a point that would be greatly devalued by a bullheaded charge at the remaining targets. While his training as an initiate had never focused much on combat, his master Vor'loch, an adept combat specialist, was making up for Jerek's lost knowledge.

Elias would have just charged, one part of the boy's mind pointed out. A small part, easy to ignore at first. He felt a twinge of guilt while doing so, but Jerek needed to devote his entire attention to the task at hand. He couldn't be distracted by the memory of a brother who had been dead for three years. The task before him required his utmost concentration.

A wave of grief and pain suddenly overwhelmed the Padawan, causing him to utter a cry as he felt his knees giving out beneath him. Thudding onto the hard, marble floors, Jerek's body was overwhelmed by a series of stinging sensations burning into his arms, torso and head. The smell of singed flesh, burnt hair and smoldering cloth reached his nose as the stinging assaulted him, tiny darts of pain that drilled into his body. His concentration broken and focus just a distant memory, Jerek reached out with his mind, flinging out his hand as he called forth a wave of energy through the Force that pushed outward from his open palm. The stinging stopped, and the noise around him gave way to the sound of the quiet sobs emanating from his mouth.

Jerek sat that way for a few moments, breathing deeply, allowing his mind to process. His heart pounded against his ribs as his chest heaved, each breath drawn painfully through aching lungs. When focus returned once more, the boy opened his eyes, drying them with the sweat-soaked cuff of his sleeve. The burns in the woven cloth caught his eye, and Jerek glanced over himself, counting dozens such marks over his skin and clothes. His gaze followed their path to its origin, a trio of toppled gatling blasters, their servo units quiet as they lay still. Without a target in their sights, the fallen machines were as good as dead.

In an instant, the boy was on his feet. Having felt the touch of his master's mind in his, Jerek could not ignore the panicked thoughts that Vor'loch had sent him. Even the brief connection the two had shared was enough to give the Padawan an idea of what faced him. The Temple under seige, soldiers invading their sanctuary, death. He bolted towards the exit, blocking out the pain his lungs, the rivets of flesh and cloth chafing from the miniature burns and the aching muscles of his legs and arms. Vor'loch's message had burned the image of the lower cargo bays into the boy's mind, and so that was where Jerek turned to head.

As he rounded a corner, however, the Jedi youth ran straight into a squad of white-armored soldiers. The instant they saw him, a dozen black rifles turned toward the sandy-haired boy.

-to be continued-

Rounding a corner at a running pace, ignoring the pleading to stop from his tired muscles and aching lungs, Jerek found himself heading towards a squad of soldiers. White armor, blue trim, respirator masks, these soldiers were the Republic's elite Clone Troopers. The Jedi Padawan visibly relaxed and his rapid breathing slowed, whatever the danger was in the Temple, the clones would soon take care of it.

Jerek found his breath had disappeared as the dozen troopers turned their rifles on him. Caught with his guard down, his lightsaber inactive and his feet still poised to take another step towards the troopers, the boy suddenly realized how exposed he was.

Stupid.

His eyes widened as fear took over, his breath returned in little gasps. Jerek gritted his teeth, steeling himself for what was to come. For death.

He didn't shut his eyes, but the youth's vision was suddenly filled with the sight of his brother. Not as he was in Jerek's last visit with him, with grey, papery skin, deadened eyes and a wan smile as the machines beeped and hissed around him. Nor was he still ten years old, this version of his twin brother was as old as he was. The two had never been mirror copies of each other, and Elias' chubbier figure had turned into a strong frame, larger than Jerek's slender one. His blond hair was just as shaggy and unkempt as Jerek's own, but Elias' head lacked the thin braid that marked Jerek as a padawan learner.

Jerek took it all in, his spirit accepting this vision wholeheartedly. Elias grinned at him, laughing as if at some shared joke between them. Like it used to be. It was how his twin should look, how Jerek would want his twin to look in the last memory of his life. Hold on, Elias, the boy shouted loudly, I'm coming to join you!

Gravity took hold of his body as the floor vanished beneath him, and Jerek was falling. He closed his eyes, his mind holding on to the image of his brother, his mouth moving, whispering over and over, "Almost there, Elias. Almost there."

"Almost where?"

The pain in his head was agonizing, a sharp searing that threatened to split his head in two. Jerek's eyes watered as he opened them, and the world swam within his vision. Eventually, a clearer picture emerged through the watery haze, a figure standing over him, hand outstretched. The boy took it, placing his slender, fair-skinned hand in the larger one, a weathered palm scarred from age and battle alike. The darkened fingers wrapped around his own as Jerek felt himself being pulled up, hauled to his feet by the stranger. Wobbling, the youth leaned down on their connected hands as the world settled around his dizzy head.

The stranger repeated the question, "Almost where?"

"Huh?" Jerek asked instinctively, peering around the stranger at the oddly misshapened, white-clad forms on the floor beyond him. He squinted, trying to figure out what they were.

"You were saying, 'Almost there, Elias.'" the dark man elaborated, moving his head to block the boy's view. His eyes were gentle, staring with compassion through a hardened face.

"Hees my brother," admitted the youth, his tongue moved slowly, making his words sound thick to his ears. "Waz," Jerek corrected himself, "waz my brother. He died yeers igo."

"I see," returned the stranger simply. "I know your pain more than most, but we cannot let feelings cloud our judgement right now." The man let out a breath, crouching to put his eyes at the same level as Jerek's. "Hold still," he said.

The stranger placed his large hands around the boy's skull, eliciting a short cry from the teenaged padawan. Quickly, the youth felt a soothing sensation wash over him, dulling the pain in his head. He blinked quickly, shaking his head gently as the large man's hands receded. "What did you do?" Jerek inquired, looking on with a mix of admiration and curiosity.

"You have a concussion," the man explained, "I helped relieve some of the pressure, but a proper healer still needs to look at it. Right now, though, we have more pressing matters to attend to." His faced took on a pained look. "I fear I may have caused it, and for that I apologize. It was a necessary measure in order to incapacitate your attackers."

It was then that the realization settled over Jerek. The white forms behind the stranger were the remains of the clone troopers, the ones who had pointed their weapons at the boy. If the older man had not intervened, Jerek would have surely been killed. "The clones," concluded the padawan, stating the fact instead of phrasing it as a question. "They're trying to kill us."

"I'm afraid so." Inclining his head, the stranger stood straight once more. He offered his palm to Jerek again, "My name is Beck."

"Jerek," the boy replied, placing his palm in the older man's for the second time that day. Suddenly, his head jerked back. "The lower cargo bays," Jerek blurted out, recalling the clue his master had provided him. "I think my master wants me to head there."

"Who is your master?"

"Vor'loch," Jerek offered as Beck nodded in affirmation.

Gesturing with his hand, Beck concluded simply, "Then to the lower cargo bays we shall go."

-to be continued-

White-sheathed troopers plagued the corridors of the Temple, leaving the floors littered with unmoving forms of trooper and Jedi alike. As the pair ventured forth beyond the main level of the Jedi's sanctum, the bodies of their fellow brothers and sisters became a more common sight. Jerek had staggered the first time they had come across one, a Jedi in his middle years, pockmarked with several, smoking holes. The Knight's lightsaber had still been clutched in his hand, cold fingers wrapped tightly around the object that had failed to save his life.

Now, the pair moved quickly, passing more bodies than Jerek could count. From time to time, Beck stopped them, sensing clones blocking their way. He did his best to maneuver the pair around them, avoiding a firefight if at all possible. For a time, the strategy worked, but it was inevitable that the duo would have to fight at some point.

That point came when Beck stopped Jerek too late, having already planted a foot down the hallway occupied by a mass of white armored bodies. The mechanical click of the trooper's headset could be heard as one of the clones alerted the rest to the Jedi's presence. Beck pulled the boy back, hauling him out of the corridor's intersection, letting the troopers make the first move around the blind corner.

Jerek's breathing was still labored, but he forced himself to slow it, letting his mind open in a well-practice manner. It drifted to the place where he found knowledge, peace, and new hope. The boy breathed it in, taking in the world around him as if for the first time. The heavy clatter of boots was growing louder, shadows growing in the hallway before him. Planting his feet how he was taught, the youth grasped his lightsaber in his right hand, drawing it back as he set his left forward in a well-practiced stance. With a flick, the green blade of his sword leaped into being, humming eagerly as the boy waited.

A second passed. The boy glanced to his side, eyeing the downward-cast blade that Beck held, brightly colored with vibrant, yellow light. The darker-skinned man gave the boy an almost imperceptable nod, and Jerek flicked his eyes back to the hallway. The troopers were emerging from the crossway, the first wave crouching as they aimed at the Jedi pair.

Blue bolts of deadly fire emerged from the ends of their blaster rifles, sending Jerek into action. His blade moved without a thought, whirling, and the bolts flew harmlessly away into the walls and ceiling. The boy paid for the effort with a sharp pain in his lungs, gasping as he moved to avoid another round of blaster fire. By then, Beck was on the attack, moving through the wall of Clones. His yellow blade sliced through their white and blue armor, effortlessly carving a pair of troopers like a stuffed, holiday bird.

Distracted by Beck's advance, Jerek launched himself at the nearest Clone, the last one still crouched to allow those behind him to fire unhindered. The boy's teeth ground together as he swiped at the trooper's face, hearing a growl emerge from his mouth. The Clone reacted by leaning back, knocking his head against Beck's swinging elbow. Propelled by the force of the collision, the soldier's face fell cleanly onto Jerek's blade, separating itself from the body it once owned. Smoking, pink flesh was exposed as the trooper's helmet fell away, leaving the lifeless body to cascade forward. The youth jumped back as he felt the troopers body collide against his own, a squish eliciting from the body parts yielding to an obstacle.

The boy stared at the results of his handiwork, a death wrought at his own hands. His knees felt weak as his head reeled, its earlier dizziness returning with a vengeance. Jerek's stomach churned and he tasted bile in his mouth. A hand appeared on his shoulder, the large, strong palm cupped his shoulder and held him steady. Though reassured by Beck's gesture, Jerek couldn't help himself from leaning over and emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

Jerek remained bent over until he felt the last of his sickness fading away. The bitter taste still remained within his mouth, and around the edges. He brought a sleeve up to his face to wipe it away, but a hand was already there, holding up a cloth instead. The boy uttered a word of thanks as he took the cloth, using it to remove the evidence of his brief weakness. He took the hand once more as he stood, grateful that Beck's compassion was reserved for him rather than for the troopers. Jerek put a hand to his mouth as he gazed over the dismembered remains of the Republic's finest, relieved that his lunch was already proudly marking the floor before him.

The Jedi pair staggered as the floor beneath them rocked. A series of explosions could be heard, the sound muffled by layers of walls and floors, but the destruction was no less real. Dust rained down from the ceiling as large pieces of the Temple's infrastructure cracked and freed itself from its mounts. The concrete hail studded the floors of the corridor, embedding themselves like icicles in the snow. One such chunk of ceiling attempted to splatter the pair of soft creatures beneath it, but Beck caught the debris with the Force and threw it clear, leaving the duo unscathed.

"Come," the older Jedi beckoned, his hand gesturing onward. "We must keep moving."

And that's exactly what they did.

-to be continued-

"Through here," the tall man beckoned, gesturing for Jerek to climb through a small passage in rubble, probably formed as debris from an explosion in this section. The slender boy clambered through on his hands and knees, the roughness of the debris threatening to catch and tear his apprentice garb, and injure his bare hands. Making it through mostly unscathed, with only a narrow scrape on his thumb as evidence of the ordeal, Jerek waited for the larger Jedi to make his way through.

The snap-hiss of a humming blade was the only thing that alerted him to the danger. Whirling, the sandy-haired youth ignited his own lightsaber, swinging it up in the parry maneuver he had been taught. Blue connected with his own green, and for an instant, Jerek was back in the training hall, sweat dripping and muscles aching as his fellow initiates cheered them on. The blue blade went exactly where Jerek expected it would, for his was already there, blocking the blow and turning it against his opponent.

Recognition finally blazed across his opponent's bleary eyes, and the other boy stepped back. His lightsaber whined as it powered down, blue light retreating into the silver hilt he still held as if to parry the attack. Jerek stood panting, his own green blade returning to its source as well. Neither boy said anything, but rather stood still, staring at one another, their bodies tense, coiled for another attack.

Beck's gentle voice disturbed Jerek's concentration, snapping him out of the haze. He turned to face the Jedi Knight, who had since emerged from the rubble and was shifting his gaze from one boy to the next. "What is this?" the dark-skinned man asked quietly.

"I'm sorry, we were just—" Jerek began to explain, even if he was not exactly sure how to. He was grateful, then, when the other boy interrupted.

"Master, it was my fault. I mistook Jerek for one of the Clones."

The tall Jedi's eyes peered at the owner of the blue blade, studying him. Even if he wasn't the subject of that gaze, Jerek shuddered at the thought, imagining how well he would stand up to it. Not well at all. Clearly the man was an expert negotiator, the boy reasoned as he watched Beck's eyes take in the other boy, absorbing him, dissecting him without a single word or change in facial expression. This was a master at work.

Finally, Beck turned to Jerek, "You know this boy?"

"This is Vul Abaan. He's a..." Jerek hesitated, searching for the right word. His gaze caught Vul's, and the boy found himself staring into eyes that held no shame in revealing their vulnerability. At that moment, Jerek realized what power he had. This was his rival, his bitter opponent through years of coursework and training. Vul had laughed when Jerek had faltered, boasted when he fell, taunted him when he achieved. Even after their fateful duel that day in the training room, even after making peace and parting ways, Jerek could feel the seething anger rolling beneath the surface of his rival. He knew that one mistake, one slip, one error would be all Vul needed to swoop in and finish the job he had begun.

One word, Jerek realized. One word would end it all here. He could name Vul as a traitor, one who aligned with the Clones, an evil willing to kill them all. Beck wouldn't hesitate to end the other boy, Jerek could see that. The dark man's compassion ended quickly when danger arose, and his blade was merciless to those who would bring it.

No, a voice said in his mind. Jerek couldn't quite place it, but the voice sounded like his own. The boy stole a breath, grateful that the choice was already made for him. He finished, "a friend."

Vul's reaction was instantaneous. The other boy relaxed, his eyes growing bright at Jerek's words. He turned towards Beck, who nodded in appraisal. Apparently satisfied by the answer, Beck turned down the hallway in front of them. "There is an entrance to the service tunnels at the end of the hall. Let us go, quickly."

Jerek nodded wordlessly, starting off the way Beck had pointed. As he trod through the narrow, lower corridors of the Temple, the boy heard Vul come up beside him. The dark-haired boy leaned in close to Jerek, and he could feel Vul's hot breath on his neck. In a voice no louder than a whisper, Jerek heard, "Thanks for that back there."

"No problem," he muttered. The sandy-haired boy was still trying to work it out in his head. Was the voice he had heard his own, or something else? Perhaps it had been Beck, sensing his own thoughts and guiding him on the right path. Maybe a connection to his master, Vor'loch? Jerek reached out with his mind, feeling for the familiar sense of the Noghri Jedi. Though, try as he might, the boy could not feel his master's presence any longer. Emotions hung thick within the Temple, and a dark presence blocked Jerek's probing thoughts. Vor'loch could be dead, or simply hidden, there was no way to tell.

Unconsoled by the thoughts, Jerek plodded forth. Yet as he closed the gap remaining to the end of the hallway, something pulled at his stomach. A deep aching pain, it twisted his tortured gut painfully, forcing the boy to slow. He placed a hand over his abdomen, grimacing with each step, his stomach threatening to wretch once more. It was an empty threat, there was nothing left to heave, but the taste of bile once more invaded the youth's mouth. Jerek threw a hand to the wall to steady himself, stopping in place as his breaths came in labored gasps.

Vul turned to stare at him, stopping in the middle of a darkened crossways. "What is—"

The dark-haired boy never got a chance to finish his question. A black form pounced, uncoiling its slender, lethal body as it jumped out from its hiding spot. Dark fur rippled as it flew through the air, betraying the lean muscles underneath. Sharp claws reached out as a jaw of fanged teeth clamped down on Vul's throat, uttering a guttural cry as it robbed the dark-haired boy of his own voice. A thin, swift tail battered against its prey, covering Vul's wriggling body with red welts as the creature ravaged the corpse of the once-breathing padawan.

Blocking out the pain in his abdomen, Jerek poised himself for a fight, lighting his green blade once more. The yellow light from Beck's own saber blazed to life in tandem with his own, and the two weapons hummed in harmony. The creature turned to face the new threat, eyes darting from one Jedi to the other, its nose inhaling the scent of fear rolling off the shorter padawan. It moved towards Jerek, but the taller Jedi intervened, blocking the dark creature's path.

"Go," Beck shouted as the cat-like creature tensed to pounce. "Get to the tunnels!"

Jerek didn't need any more encouragement. His feet alighted from the floor, moving quickly out of range of the creature, propelling himself forward. Behind him, the scuffle of feet and claws could be heard, sharp cries echoing from the creature as the hum of Beck's blade pitched high and low. The youth feared to turn back, not wanting to see the end of the kind Jedi. He blocked out the sound from his ears, the tears already running freely down his cheeks.

Reaching the service tunnel entrance, Jerek quickly scrambled onto the ladder, shutting the door behind him. As he descended, the boy's heart beat quickly, his breath short even as he reminded himself that he was safe and out of danger.

For now.

Master Sorni and her new traveling companion moved through the tunnels beneath the temple, ever so often a large tremor would shake the walls around them as an explosion from something somewhere occurred within the temple. They were fortunate in that they had not run into any patrols scouring the tunnels yet. Though they did hear them, the orders being called out in the distance, the occasional blaster bolt cutting through the silence like a hot knife through butter, the occasional scream cut short. But the Jedi Master pushed on, not daring to look behind them. She just continued to follow the tunnels downwards towards the cargo bay, hoping that their luck wouldn't run out. She turned her head and looked at the young Padawan; Erin. Master Sorni couldn't even begin fathom what must have been going on in her head, but she had to the girl credit where credit was due, she was holding herself together fairly well, that took courage. She would of made a great Jedi.... she would still make a great Jedi as long as they got out of there. It was then that she heard something coming down the tunnel, the sound of boots running in hot pursuit. The Jedi Master looked around before grabbing Erin by the shoulder and yanking her flat against the wall, putting a hand to her mouth urging her to be silent.

It was then that the young boy came into their sight sprinting down the hall panting. He looked to be barley fifteen years of age his brown padawan robes tattered and torn. Moments later a blaster bolt came rushing down the hall slamming into the boys back and sending him face first into the ground. He was still moving, crawling trying to inch his way forward and then another shot rang out hitting the boy again, and his body went limp against the ground. Master Sorni pulled herself off of the wall, letting out her held breath as she peered her head up the tunnel. A squad of clones stood peering down the hall, the light fixtures on their helmets cutting through the darkness as they peered about for more survivors. Though the Jedi Master was more concerned about the two beasts the clones were holding on leashes. Large canine heads, with strong jutting jaws, dark skin with rippling tensing muscles underneath, long whip-like tails. Vornskr..... And the beast had just sensed them letting off vicious growls and straining against their restraints. Their clone handlers leaned down to release them as Master Sorni turned towards Erin and gave her one simple order.

"Run!"

And that was what the two of them did, as they bolted down the tunnel, using the force to augment their speed. Blaster shots came screaming down the hall after them, the gnash and growl of the Vornskr as they chased after them. They barreled down dark tunnel after tunnel, soaring by corners and trying to get away. But they had no such luck as the squad kept hot on their trial. They had kept up this game of cat and mouse for around five minutes when the Jedi Master heard something behind them. Another large tremor shook the tunnel, this one more violent the last throwing Master Sorni and the Padawn to the ground. As she scrambled to her feet, her ears ringing, she saw Erin a few feet away. She got up to meet her and that was when the ceiling came crashing down between the two of them, blocking Erin's path backward and her path forward. Master Sorni coughed as dust was kicked up around her. She heard the clones and the Vornskr, they were getting closer and closer. The Jedi Master called out to the Padawan, who she could hear coughing on the other side of the rubble.

"Erin! I'm going to need you to keep on moving towards the Cargo Bay! I'm going to find another way around, and will meet you there!" Master Sorni did not wait for a response as she turned around and grabbed her lightsaber that somehow was still attached to her waist. She ignited it as she heard growls coming from behind her, the Vronskr had reached her first, The two beast approached her slowly, growling the sound deep and menacing coming from the back of their throats. One of them jumped at her, they were fast very fast. It's jaw was open and it aimed straight for her neck. She leaped to the left as she swung out with her lightsaber, slamming hard into the ground as she heard a yelp. She looked and a few feet away the Vornskr landed it's right front leg and shoulder cleaved straight away. It growled and still snapped its teeth for another minuet thrashing about before it stopped moving. But the Jedi Master had little time to savor her victory as she got to one knee, the other Vornskr lunged slamming straight into her and knocking her lightsaber out of her hand. She lay flat on her back, her two hands wrapped around the beasts hand as they struggled in a deadly game of tug of war as it tried to rip out her throat. The beast was stronger then her, and even if she could hold it back its large claws were tearing into her chest and stomach as they struggled. She was on the losing end of the fight, if they fought just physically, but she had something the Vornsker didn't. She concentrated as she pushed her arms upward as the two struggled, and a large whoosh was heard as the Force rushed against the beast straight in the head launching it upward as it slammed into the ceiling of the tunnel. The Jedi Master slowly pulled herself to her feet as she reached around the ground for her lightsaber, the Vornsker was not down yet, it was just winded as it slowly got it's feet. It lashed out with its barbed tail as a lightsaber came roaring across connecting with poisoned tip and severing it. Master Sorni stood their face bloody and covered in dust illuminated by the glow of her lightsaber. The Vornsker roared in challenge and in pain, the two stood Master Sorni in a defense stance as the beast lunged through the air....
The lightsaber connect with the torso of the Vornsker and cut cleanly through it, the two halves dropped to the ground as Master Sorni disengaged her light saber.

Panting, and clutching her torso, the claw marks stinging and roaring with pain she had little time to do much of anything as she heard the clone squad come closer. She was in no shape to get into any more battles, she could still move but even basic blaster defense would be a death sentence for her right now. She turned around facing the rubble as she looked for a way through and that was when she saw it to her left another maintenance door. The sounds of the clones were getting closer as she slammed her shoulder against the door once, it budged but not too far, and then a seconded time were it cracked open a bit, she could see the lights from their helmets in the distance, and she threw herself against it one more time and the door flew open as she stumbled into the room. She turned around and quickly slammed the door shut, lookng for something to barricade it, she saw an old supply cabinet on the wall. She raised her hand and concentrated on it before yanking her hand downward, and the cabinet tilted and fell over slamming down in front of the door barring the clones way for now. She heard their shouting and she tried to remain as quiet as possible, it seemed to have taken a year but they finally moved on back the way they came, their sounds retreating further and further into the distance. The Jedi Master fell to the ground laying on her back, as she caught her breath. She looked around the small room which appeared to have been a small office, or checkpoint of somewhere. On one of the walls across from here though was a steel container with a red symbol across it.... A medical kit. Master Sorni crawled across the floor, and reached up the wall pulling the kit down. She opened the contents, there was not a lot, but it was enough to get her moving again barely at least. As she began to prepare to do some field medicine she let out a sigh as she muttered to herself..

"Let us... never do that again.."

"Master!" Erin called back through the dense rubble, attempting desperately to push and pull with the Force, just throw the damn debris away so she could help. In that moment where she got flustered and couldn't focus, there was nothing the Padawan could do for Master Sorni except do as she was told. Sorni got them this far - one handed at that. Calm down... Attune to the situation. Look at the bigger picture. The girl thought, mentally composing herself.

 "...It's a promise, then. See you there!" She called back for the last time, reassuring herself and hopefully Sorni too, before running off at a steady pace. All Erin could do as she continued her escape was have faith in the Jedi Master's abilities. The service tunnels were like a maze. If all went well, time is all it would take to reach the lower cargo holds. ...But according to the sound of multiple boots trampling towards her, it just wouldn't be that simple.

I should be able to take them.. sounds like it's only three-

And then she heard it, a low growl that seemed to get more agitated as it came closer. Just one Vornskr, fortunately... But that was still a dangerous creature. One wrong move could be the end of Erin's life, in a slow, painful and very gory manner. She was afraid, and the beast could likely smell it. She hid behind the closest corner and froze still. It might go away, she thought, Th-there is no fear... Only-

"He's got something. Unleash 'em!" Said a clone with a rifle, the clone handling the Vornskr carefully released the bloodthirsty creature on the order. It darted down the corridor towards where Erin tried to hide, and knowing there was no chance of simply avoiding it, the young Padawan sprinted for her life. It only took thirty meters or so before it leapt through the air, claws and teeth ready to dig into the girl's neck from behind. She span around on instinct, tripping over her feet and igniting the two Lightsabers at the same time. There was a short shriek from Padawan Corona as the Jedi-hunting creature made contact. Erin closed her eyes as she felt her back and the floor meet. A set of claws scratched along her neck, stinging the girl and sending icy chills down her spine. This was it, ...wasn't it?

The Vornskr had two large slashes through it's body in an 'X' shape, and it was in fact dead before it landed on it's prey. Erin's eyes opened to see the predator twitch a few times before it went completely lifeless. Pushing it off in a hurry, Erin got to her feet and backed away from the dead beast. She put a hand to her neck, finding bloody scratches but no fatal injury like she'd imagined herself getting a few moments ago. Before the small team of clones chose to show up, Erin started running for the cargo bay once again. By no means was she confident anymore. Now was not the time to stop and seek peace.

"10 green whomprats, sitting on a wall... 10 green Whomprats, sitting on a wall... But if some lone t-16 pilot should accidentally bullseye one and it should fall... There'll be 9 green Whomprats sitting on a wall..." At this point, the singing was the only thing stopping her from passing out. Blood streamed down her broken leg as she limped. She saw someone kill a Vornskyr. "What in the holy..." They got up and ran. "Hey..." she called out, feebly. She then saw the Clones closing in on her. She limped away, deflecting the Blaster bolts with the double-ended lightsaber, Gathering her calm, she thrust her hand out and Lightning sent one of them flying. The others re-doubled their efforts, she was barely able to keep up blocking the bolts. "Dammit." he seethed, trying to send the bolts back at them, but as her anger grew, so did her focus drift, and finally, her wounded leg was hit by a stray blaster bolt, forcing her to the floor. She threw another Bolt of Force Lightning at them, Drawing her Masters lightsaber, she deflected a number of bolts from the remaining troopers. So this is how she died? She escaped one massacre only to fall into another.

Irony is a bitch...

"Hey..." A weak voice found Erin, who stopped running and turned back to find a Jedi limping along. Thank the force, she wasn't alone anymore. Unfortunately, before Erin could help her fellow Jedi, a squad of clones arrived with impeccable timing. They opened fire, and though the Dathomirian females' defence deflected the majority of the laser bolts, she was shot in the leg and taken to the floor. It looked like it was her last stand...

"I gotcha!" Erin raised her voice, lightsabers igniting as she positioned herself in front of her only ally to deflect the incoming fire with her twin blades. Reflecting the shots back towards the clones one-at-a-time, the squad eventually fell to the precise redirections of their own blasters. After Erin was sure they were down, and that no dreaded Vornskr would come charging down the corridor towards them, the two blue beams retreated back into their hilts. The young Padawan attached the lightsabers to her belt and kneeled in front of the Dathomirian girl. She looked pretty composed to say she'd just rushed into the line of fire.

Flashing a brief smile at her, Erin offered her comrade an arm, "That was a lucky save... If you were headed in the same direction I was, it can't be much further. How's your leg?"

Of course, Erin didn't realise that Kolinn was really wavering in the 'not passing out' deal. Even if she did fall unconscious, Erin wouldn't hesitate to carry the wounded Jedi.

The Girl stared almost blankly at him as she saved her. "My leg... Leg is... How do you think it is?" She asked sarcastically. A stupid question as far as everyone was concerned looked at the tattered remains of her leg. A large blaster scorch mark in the top of it, not helped by the leg already being broken from when the room collapsed on her, blood steadily leaking from several open wounds. "What is... Going on?" she asked, the blood-loss really starting to effect her. "Those... Aren't real Clones are they...? They must be... Seperatists..." she said.

Keilara moved quietly through the dim tunnel with the younglings and two Jedi, sticking close to the former. For some reason the small initiates comforted her slightly. Perhaps it was knowing there were still those weaker than her that would need help, or perhaps it was just knowledge that someone was as scared and confused as she was without a clue of where to go next. She wasn't entirely sure, but she allowed their presences to aid in soothing her enough to focus on anything other than the searing pain just above her hip bone. At last they came out in to a chamber where others had gathered.

Thank the skies others have made it, the Vahla sighed to herself, running her hand through thick, red hair. Another Temple Guard seemed to call over to the one that she and the rest of her group had been following, Kraytan apparently. Her blood ran cold as she listened to some of their conversation. Things were bad. Bad all around and to a degree she could have never have imagined. Something was hunting in the Temple. Something horrible that had killed the Temple Master. Now those in questionable condition would be left behind. Keilara forced back the tears that threatened to sting her eyes and bit back her own protest akin to the female Guard's. It wasn't her place. She was there to follow and learn, regardless of what may happen or was happening. She felt a sickening twist in her stomach, but remained outwardly steady.

She looked, then, to recollect herself, to the Anzati and Nautolan younglings. They looked terrified and haunted, their small faces reflecting her own feelings. The Anzati cried quietly. As she waited on orders, she stooped slightly so that her tall frame was more on their levels and she reached and offered a comforting arm to each of them. Softly, she whispered some encouragements, desperately willing herself to believe her own words, "Be strong. We will get through and things will work out. Have faith, alright? Now is the time to be brave and focus on listening carefully to what the Temple Guards ask of us. You have come this far and have done well. You can make it. We can make it. We will find the rest of the Order and regroup in a safe place. You will see."

With Kraytan there were now four Temple Guards, one was in an injured state but was capable. Their numbers were small, but Kraytan had a plan and even if he didn't make it some would survive. When everyone was rounded up he looked to Deja, "Bring them to the Cargo Bay, I will attend to the injured one last time." Deja bowed her head and called for everyone to follow her. Kraytan moved over to the Anzati and padawan Keilara trying to comfort him. He placed a reassuring hand on both of them. "You will survive this nightmare I promise you this, however you must be strong, stronger than any younglings before you. You must control your emotions, if you unleash them now they will lead you down a dangerous path and could as well send those around you down the same path. Now follow Deja, she will escort you to the Cargo Bay, I will be there shortly." He moved away from the padawan and younglings and approached a few badly injured padawans and a knight propped up against the wall.

"Everyone form up, knights on the outside, padawans inside and younglings in the center. There remain very few of yes, but the Temple Guard has protected the Order for thousands of years, we who are left who continue to do so even in the face of desctruction. Now let's go." Deja said trying to comfort the remaining Jedi. She headed down one of the passages and the other Temple Guards herded everyone in there as well and covered the rear. Kraytan reminded behind placing his hands on the heads of those left behind. He sucked their dark emotions from them and allowed them to be at peace. Once at peace they left go of life and went to be with the Force. This was a dangerous technique, it risked corrupting him especially with so strong of dark emotions and so many times. Once he was finished he took down a different path as he suppressed the dark energy trying desperately to absorb him.

Deja eventually came to a wall with a lever. She placed her hand on the wall and tried to feel for any presence on the other side. It was empty, she felt no one and pulled the lever. The door opened and brought them into a large hallway. Charred bodies laid everywhere, broken stone litered the floor and fire was smoldering in a few places. A big battle had been fought between the clones and Jedi here it seemed. "Alright we are heading to the Cargo Bay at the end of this hall. There we shall await Kraytan and his orders. Now let us move once more!" Deja said and began down the hallway Lightsaber pike in hand. As she approached the Cargo Bay she noticed that the doors had been blasted off. She moved to the side and stood against the wall and peered in, there were a few clone platoons. "Listen up everyone, I know I am asking much of all of you, but we have to engage those clones. We can wait here for a short time for Kraytan to show up, but eventually we will have to press forward and attack without him."

---

As Erin and Konlinn met up, they had failed to realize that more vornsker had picked up their sent. A hunting pack of two was homing in on them fast. The beasts went into a craze as they ran around the corner and saw their prey, one wounded badly and the other easy pickings as well. The horrific creatures opened their mouths and growled, drool pour out of their razor sharp teeth filled mouths. However one of them stopped for a second and made a whimpering sound as if it had failed to notice something but was now too late. Kraytan came flying down from above onto the creatures back, breaking it under his weight. His Lightsaber pike drove into its head. The second turned quickly and swung its claws at him. Kraytan jumped back and dashed forward at the Jedi's worst nightmare. It leapt at him, but in one swing Kraytan unleashed all his dark energy he had been carrying into one might attack and cut the beast right down the center. The two halves landed on the marble ground and slid a few feet. Vaapad was a dangerous form, but he had to use it to expel all the dark energy. He looked at the two Padawans.

"The Force has smiled upon you today young ones. I am Jedi Knight Kraytan, but there is little time for exchanging of names. I have orders to escort all survivors out of the Temple. I and several Temple Guards are moving a group to the Cargo Bay, I will now be moving you there just the same. Now let us move." Kraytan said to them as he approached them. He noticed the one was badly injured, however she had a good chance of survival.