By the time Enrik and his fellow initiates returned to their dormitories, night had fallen upon Coruscant. The light had retreated as it did every night, and the inky dark blue of the night sky had taken its place. From the window, the city looked as though it was ablaze. Thousands upon thousands of lights ensured that even in the night time, the city still looked alive. The six younglings had just finished their final meditation session for the day, and returned to their room exhausted, but at peace. They collapsed onto their beds; six short beds in two rows of three on either side of the room. Enrik was grateful to be back in the comfort of his room.
The five other initiates were no different to he. "Do you think if we ask really nicely, Master Yoda might give us the day off tomorrow?" Jake, a short and somewhat chubby Coruscanti boy, was complaining from the far corner of the room. "No, but they might give us extra work," replied Torin, another human but of Corellian descent, like Enrik. "Yeah, quite moaning Jake. Do you want to end up in the Corps?" Darnius joined Torin in reproaching Jake for his stupid comments. Enrik smiled to himself as the debate raged on, with Jake furiously trying to defend his nonsensical suggestion to the bitter end.
Enrik, however, didn't participate. He sat in silence, staring out of the window. Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. He had just finished meditating, he should be perfectly in sync with the Force around him. Yet, he could feel a disturbance. "You can feel it too, can't you?" Raene's voice shook Enrik from his trance. He turned to face her. Her pale blue eyes normally smiled even when her face didn't follow suit, but now there was something else. Terror. The rest of the room seemed totally oblivious. "Yes." His answer seemed blunt, but Enrik had no clue what to say. He had never felt anything like this. He couldn't claim to be strong with the Force, but this feeling was beating on his head like a drum. He felt sick.
"What do we do?" Enrik didn't know how to answer. Raene was a couple of years younger than Enrik, and she had always looked to him for advice. But now, he was in the same boat as her. It was impossible to tell what was coming, but Enrik could sense darkness. Whatever was coming, pain and suffering would follow. "We stay here. Whatever is coming, the clones will protect us. And should they fail, the Masters will keep us safe. We have nothing to fear. If we are needed someone will come for us." Even as he said it he was doubting himself. Enrik had never felt so scared.
There is no emotion. There is peace. Enrik did his best to try and calm himself. Now was not the time to panic and throw all that he had trained so hard for away. Raene, however, didn't seem as though she would be getting a grip on her emotions any time soon. A single, solitary tear rolled down her pale cheek. The room fell into silence all of a sudden, as a new sound reached the years of the initiates. The thunder of thousands of boots, marching in perfect unison. "What's that?" Torin asked. The six of them rushed to the window. Below, on the steps, the 501st Legion moved like water, flowing up the steps with clinical efficiency. At the head of the battalion, a single hooded figure. As they reached the door, Enrik watched a group of younglings and their master exchange a few words with the hooded figure.
It had come from nowhere, and in just a few seconds it was over. The hooded figure had drawn a lightsaber, shimmering blue against the dark of the night. Before the master could draw his own he was struck down, and the volley of blaster fire that followed after killed all of the younglings. All but one. This Jedi, this traitor of a Jedi, loomed over the boy as he lay on the floor clutching at the blast wound on his leg. A single sweeping blow and it was all over.
Enrik felt the deaths ripple through the force. The initiates exchanged worried glances, not sure what to make of it. This must've been the disturbance that Enrik and Raene could feel. Before any of them could speak, the door to their chambers slid open with a whoooosh. In the doorway stood two clone troopers, their white armor trimmed with the royal blue of the 501st. They raised their blasters. Everything turned into a blue blur, the sound of blaster fire filling the air. Enrik threw himself to the floor and closed his eyes, waiting for death to consume him. But after a few seconds, he heard the sound of boots on the hard floor, and the door slid shut again.
Seconds passed. Then minutes. Enrik laid in silence, listening. Throughout the temple, the sounds of battle raged on around him. Blaster fire, the dull hum of lightsabers, and screams of agony. Eventually Enrik willed himself to open his eyes. Raene stared back at him. Her happy eyes were empty, and the girl that had always been so vibrant and energetic lay still in a state of eternal peace. Enrik fought to keep control of his emotions. He rolled her eyes shut before getting to his feet and dusting off his tan cloth tunic. His classmates, his fellow Jedi-to-be, lay at his feet. Not a single one stirred. And all the while, the pain that Enrik had felt since the attack at the steps had grown more and more intense. Never had he truly felt what it was like when a connection to the Force was severed, and now he could feel all of them. Thousands of brilliant lights, all being snuffed out at once.
Enrik shuffled to the door. He knew they would have already swept the other dormitories, and he doubted any would have been so lucky as to survive like he did. Instead, it seemed that his best bet was to head for the Master's chambers. The corridors were empty for the most part. No initiates had made it out of their rooms. Entire clans were wiped out in a heartbeat. Enrik's friends, his rivals, his classmates. Gone.
Enrik ran as fast as his legs would allow him, occasionally using Force Speed to hurry his journey. Every corner he turned on his journey seemed to bring new horrors. A young Kel Dor Padawan lay slumped against the wall, four holes in his chest from the clones' blasters. A female human, with most of her face melted into molten goo. Enrik felt physically ill, but forced himself to keep on running.
As Enrik neared the Master's quarters, he stopped. Around the next corner, he could hear blaster fire, and the the sound of a lightsaber cutting through plastoid armor. When he dared to look, he saw a group of maybe six clones, crumpled and most definitely dead. There was no sign of the Jedi who slew them, but he silently thanked them for clearing the way. Around the corner, Enrik stopped to catch his breathe. He had been running for what felt like forever, and he had finally reached the hall. He was so close to the master's quarters now. The young boy placed one hand against the wall and stood still, regulating his breathing to bring him back to his usual self. Collected, he looked up to the sound of footsteps as a familiar face turned the corner.
"... Enrik?" Opposite him stood Lyla, one of his classmates. They had never been particularly close friends, but words couldn't describe how happy he was to see her at that moment. She looked scared, not that Enrik was surprised. Oddly, however, she was tightly clutching a lightsaber in her hand. Enrik eyed it curiously, before running over. "Lyla!" He stopped a few feet short of her, panting again, all of his attempts to regain his calm forgotten. "Everyone... they killed... everyone..." he stopped to prevent himself from losing control. "Torin... Jake... Darnius.. Nayva..." he paused. "Raene..." He looked up, staring her directly in the eye. The not-so-distant sounds of the slaughter filled the silence. "What... what are we going to do?"
The five other initiates were no different to he. "Do you think if we ask really nicely, Master Yoda might give us the day off tomorrow?" Jake, a short and somewhat chubby Coruscanti boy, was complaining from the far corner of the room. "No, but they might give us extra work," replied Torin, another human but of Corellian descent, like Enrik. "Yeah, quite moaning Jake. Do you want to end up in the Corps?" Darnius joined Torin in reproaching Jake for his stupid comments. Enrik smiled to himself as the debate raged on, with Jake furiously trying to defend his nonsensical suggestion to the bitter end.
Enrik, however, didn't participate. He sat in silence, staring out of the window. Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. He had just finished meditating, he should be perfectly in sync with the Force around him. Yet, he could feel a disturbance. "You can feel it too, can't you?" Raene's voice shook Enrik from his trance. He turned to face her. Her pale blue eyes normally smiled even when her face didn't follow suit, but now there was something else. Terror. The rest of the room seemed totally oblivious. "Yes." His answer seemed blunt, but Enrik had no clue what to say. He had never felt anything like this. He couldn't claim to be strong with the Force, but this feeling was beating on his head like a drum. He felt sick.
"What do we do?" Enrik didn't know how to answer. Raene was a couple of years younger than Enrik, and she had always looked to him for advice. But now, he was in the same boat as her. It was impossible to tell what was coming, but Enrik could sense darkness. Whatever was coming, pain and suffering would follow. "We stay here. Whatever is coming, the clones will protect us. And should they fail, the Masters will keep us safe. We have nothing to fear. If we are needed someone will come for us." Even as he said it he was doubting himself. Enrik had never felt so scared.
There is no emotion. There is peace. Enrik did his best to try and calm himself. Now was not the time to panic and throw all that he had trained so hard for away. Raene, however, didn't seem as though she would be getting a grip on her emotions any time soon. A single, solitary tear rolled down her pale cheek. The room fell into silence all of a sudden, as a new sound reached the years of the initiates. The thunder of thousands of boots, marching in perfect unison. "What's that?" Torin asked. The six of them rushed to the window. Below, on the steps, the 501st Legion moved like water, flowing up the steps with clinical efficiency. At the head of the battalion, a single hooded figure. As they reached the door, Enrik watched a group of younglings and their master exchange a few words with the hooded figure.
It had come from nowhere, and in just a few seconds it was over. The hooded figure had drawn a lightsaber, shimmering blue against the dark of the night. Before the master could draw his own he was struck down, and the volley of blaster fire that followed after killed all of the younglings. All but one. This Jedi, this traitor of a Jedi, loomed over the boy as he lay on the floor clutching at the blast wound on his leg. A single sweeping blow and it was all over.
Enrik felt the deaths ripple through the force. The initiates exchanged worried glances, not sure what to make of it. This must've been the disturbance that Enrik and Raene could feel. Before any of them could speak, the door to their chambers slid open with a whoooosh. In the doorway stood two clone troopers, their white armor trimmed with the royal blue of the 501st. They raised their blasters. Everything turned into a blue blur, the sound of blaster fire filling the air. Enrik threw himself to the floor and closed his eyes, waiting for death to consume him. But after a few seconds, he heard the sound of boots on the hard floor, and the door slid shut again.
Seconds passed. Then minutes. Enrik laid in silence, listening. Throughout the temple, the sounds of battle raged on around him. Blaster fire, the dull hum of lightsabers, and screams of agony. Eventually Enrik willed himself to open his eyes. Raene stared back at him. Her happy eyes were empty, and the girl that had always been so vibrant and energetic lay still in a state of eternal peace. Enrik fought to keep control of his emotions. He rolled her eyes shut before getting to his feet and dusting off his tan cloth tunic. His classmates, his fellow Jedi-to-be, lay at his feet. Not a single one stirred. And all the while, the pain that Enrik had felt since the attack at the steps had grown more and more intense. Never had he truly felt what it was like when a connection to the Force was severed, and now he could feel all of them. Thousands of brilliant lights, all being snuffed out at once.
Enrik shuffled to the door. He knew they would have already swept the other dormitories, and he doubted any would have been so lucky as to survive like he did. Instead, it seemed that his best bet was to head for the Master's chambers. The corridors were empty for the most part. No initiates had made it out of their rooms. Entire clans were wiped out in a heartbeat. Enrik's friends, his rivals, his classmates. Gone.
Enrik ran as fast as his legs would allow him, occasionally using Force Speed to hurry his journey. Every corner he turned on his journey seemed to bring new horrors. A young Kel Dor Padawan lay slumped against the wall, four holes in his chest from the clones' blasters. A female human, with most of her face melted into molten goo. Enrik felt physically ill, but forced himself to keep on running.
As Enrik neared the Master's quarters, he stopped. Around the next corner, he could hear blaster fire, and the the sound of a lightsaber cutting through plastoid armor. When he dared to look, he saw a group of maybe six clones, crumpled and most definitely dead. There was no sign of the Jedi who slew them, but he silently thanked them for clearing the way. Around the corner, Enrik stopped to catch his breathe. He had been running for what felt like forever, and he had finally reached the hall. He was so close to the master's quarters now. The young boy placed one hand against the wall and stood still, regulating his breathing to bring him back to his usual self. Collected, he looked up to the sound of footsteps as a familiar face turned the corner.
"... Enrik?" Opposite him stood Lyla, one of his classmates. They had never been particularly close friends, but words couldn't describe how happy he was to see her at that moment. She looked scared, not that Enrik was surprised. Oddly, however, she was tightly clutching a lightsaber in her hand. Enrik eyed it curiously, before running over. "Lyla!" He stopped a few feet short of her, panting again, all of his attempts to regain his calm forgotten. "Everyone... they killed... everyone..." he stopped to prevent himself from losing control. "Torin... Jake... Darnius.. Nayva..." he paused. "Raene..." He looked up, staring her directly in the eye. The not-so-distant sounds of the slaughter filled the silence. "What... what are we going to do?"
