Survivors of the Jedi Purge (epic)

[Serena Laran]

Serena sagged against a tree, her lightsaber in her left hand. Commander Kata fell to the ground in front of her, burning holes perforating his body armor. Her lightsaber flicked off, and she returned it to her belt.

What was going on? The clones were supposed to obey the Jedi! Why would a loyal soldier turn on her? The Jedi Knight looked at her shoulder, and at the blood starting to seep through the thick obi she had wrapped the wound in. Whatever had happened, it was safe to assume that the other troopers she had brought to the surface would be more than willing to finish what Kata had started, should they discover that she still lived.

As soon as Commander Kata missed a comm check-in they would be alerted to his situation. There wasn't much time.

Serena grabbed the clone trooper's blaster rifle and looked up at the sky. If the clone troopers had turned on the Jedi, what of the human general commanding the capital ship? General Tomahawk would still be up there in orbit.

Focus, Laran. Serena took as deep a breath as she could muster, shuddering at the stab of pain high in her chest. She was dealing with a limited amount of time. But if she could get back to her ship, Serenity... If the Force was with her, she would have a chance.

[Belay Nisi]

Belay had dealt with people sparsely since his first day at the Academy. Rarely were politicians allowed to even converse with younglings or Padawan. Instead, they were kept warded from the Jedi's sanctuary, but it only keened the Nisi descendant's senses. Jedi were the only people he felt comfortable around, yet at even the slightest disturbance from another he resonated with an aura.

Even the occasional Clone Soldier that was found at the gates or around the gardens nearby warranted a signal. Their signature was faint and irregular because of their clone generation. A frown claimed Belay's face as he grasped the awkward signatures. It far up stairs, and he could very little to grasp the specifics, but the signature came in the loads.

A discomfort sent a chill through his spine as he poked his hands around his waist. Placing his saber to his belt, he readied himself for a quick dash to the nearest lift. Hopefully he could find out about the presence and reasons. His late Master had always demanded of him to find purpose in things, even if they seemed senseless. The study of all abroad would eventually come of use in the future. Things did not just happen without reason.

Pressing in the buttons, he was carefully lifted up the levels of the Jedi Temple. Unique signatures feel upon his mind, their senses falling into a distance of his heart. People were fading, and fast. A tremble conquered his young spirit at that moment. He could only think, in his haunted thoughts, would he be next.

Grabbing his lightsaber, he readied himself. There was probably a war on the level, and the Clone Wars were there to intercept the invaders. How could have not caught the awkward signature earlier, though?

Something was up, and all he do was grab helplessly onto his lightsaber hilt. When the lift stopped, he would hit the ground running. An evacuation would be a better attempt then to stand and face the adversaries without a clear plan. Hopefully other Jedi would be about to converse with.

[Zem Vymes]

I lay among the horrors of my deeds. The dead trooper's blood pooled the floor of the lift, and I crawled to the far corner away from it.

Something interrupted my brooding. I felt something. A flicker. A glimmer of hope, glinting like a keyhole only I could open.

I reached out with the force, pressing the button to halt the lift's descent. Pressing another button, I reversed my path, to a level where I did not know what awaited me.

I beat the fear in me down into a dark place. Crossing my legs, my eyes closed, meditating to find the impetus and the rock that a Jedi must build his foundation upon.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

In a bizarre Twi-Lekki stand-off of sorts, s'Il stared at the clonetroopers as they stared at her, their lifeless helmets betraying no emotions. She made no move, no motion; each muscle was tense and poised for action as her eyes made careful note of the men before her.

No one moved for what seemed like eons - had her appearence been that surprising? The Lupine had to admit her entrance had been a bit on the unintentional if not grossly hamfisted side, but it wasn't her fault that the panel had given way.

The fingers of her right hand tingled suddenly once more, and in a blur of motion s'Il pulled her sabre out, flicking it on just in time to catch the first bolt in a barrage of blaster fire. She stumbled backwards, holding the blade up and deflecting what shots she could as others scorched the once beautiful floor around her.

She retreated until her back hit a wall - or was it the door to a lift? She couldn't tell as her sabre moved fluidly in her grasp; an extension of her arm.

Doggedly the Lupine refused to give in, gritting her teeth as she stood her ground defiantly in the face of oncoming clonetroopers.

[Daria Nytherciria]

For two years they had considered it. To say that it was the most difficult decision of their lives would have been an understatement. Deciding to part with ones children indefinitely, perhaps permanently, is not a choice that any parent wishes to make, yet it had been one heavy on the mind of the parents of Daria Nytherciria.

Their family had eked out a quiet existence in the core worlds since the birth of their first daughter, six years ago, but things had changed since then. It was no longer safe for them to live as they did. Secrecy and lies had become a necessity. They rarely spoke with those whom they did not explicitly trust, or had known before arriving in the core. Amongst the former group there were only a handful of names, one of whom was a Jedi Knight by the name of Bra'jaa.

Bra'jaa, who they had come to trust above all others, was late. In the lounge of their small apartment, Merith, Glyne and Daria Nytherciria sat awaiting the arrival of the Jedi Knight. Merith and Glyne, anxious and somewhat nauseous, watched as their young daughter played quietly with some small wooden toy. All of her belongings – all of the essentials, at least – had been packed away. The gravity of the situation had not yet dawned fully on Glyne, though Merith already felt as if she was going to be loosing her daughter forever.

There was a pounding at the door. Both jumped startled, seemingly flying from the couch to the center of the living room in the blink of an eye. She looked to her husband, searching his eyes for some direction, before being shaken again by another hard knock on the door.

“Glyne! Merith! Let me in, quickly!” It was Bra'jaa. She rushed to the door, slipping off latches and unkeying locks. A lean, breathless Zabrak ducked into the apartment, pushing the door closed quickly behind him. Glyne was now on his feet, with young Daria clinging tightly to his legs.

“The Jedi have been betrayed, there's no time to explain.” His eyes were searching quickly around the room. Without waiting, he scooped up Daria's bags. “We have to leave immediately.”

“But... what...” Merith was wide-eyed.

“Wait- wait a minute. Where are you going to take her? Why isn't it safe?”

The question was met with a stony stare. “The Jedi Temple is under attack. There are reports coming in of Republic garrisons turning on their Jedi Commanders and killing them. We need to get to some neutral ground.”

“You need to get to some neutral ground,” Glyne corrected, speaking slowly. He was suggesting, of course, that while Bra'jaa may have been under threat, as Daria was not yet a Jedi, so would be exempt from the persecution. At this, the Jedi frowned.

“I don't know what's going on, but I think it would be safe to assume that once the Jedi are dealt with, whoever is behind this will begin targeting potential Jedi. I know it must be hard for you, but now more than ever we are going to need students like Daria.”

In all of this, the young girl herself had barely moved. She listened quietly to the heated words spoken and then to the sighs of resignation, feeling her father gently pry her away from his body.

[Belay Nisi]

Blaster bolts riddled the surroundings as the lift's door opened. The vile stench of blast-burns perfumed the air, consuming the aroma of nostalgia that commonly swallowed the halls of the Jedi Temple. Belay could feel his body be overwhelmed by the tense atmosphere that lay in the settlement. Jedi lightsabers were ignited throughout the halls in segments, and large separations in directions of the shining clone armor that Belay had become fond of.

Times had changed, in only a day, and the new enemy of the Jedi was a cloned warrior. Belay was confused, and he could only stand motionless in front of the lift as it jumped from the battlefield. The Nisi descendant had never heard of such battle, at least not at the Jedi Temple or even near Coruscant. Such horrific situations rarely occurred before young Padawan's eyes, and the few missions he had been taken upon never encountered the rawness of war.

Belay had been saved from the catastrophic nature of the Clone Wars, and had only an understanding from words. The distraught showed in his face as he stood amazed, in awe, and completely confused. Nothing seemed to paint right, the situation was not illustrated perfectly. Whoever claimed artistic property was a man of sheer darkness and it showed throughout the dim halls, illuminated solely by bolts and lightsabers.

Although the young man's hand loosened around the hilt as he watched, it tightened as the rattle of the blaster bolts neared his ear. An anger steamed from his confusion, distraught and present conflict, stirring him to spill. The young Jedi's face contorted from a cute child to that of a demon, and he leaped from the ground. Propelled through the air he neared the coming sounds of blaster bolts and ignited his lightsaber. Once used for remotes and training, it was now an extra arm prepared to grapple an enemy in sheer fury.

Slicing down as he rolled to a stop on the durasteel ground, he found a loose limb dropping to his side with a single blaster bolt calling out from the standard arm of the clone. No remorse fell upon the child's face, and in turn he snarled as he picked himself from the ground with sudden grace.

Abruptly he dashed forward, sliding his way through the oncoming blaster bolts from the side before flipping into the sky once more. Yoda's teachings had come in handy, finding his mind trapped in the instincts instilled in him from the young ling training.

As bolts darted in his direction, his extra arm swung from side to side, ensuring his body protection. The bolts flew from side to side, and occasionally returned to the sender in quick haste. Clones fell quickly to the floor, but there were few in the vicinity. Belay's luck had come once more in handy, preventing him from finding his face against the true terror of the Temple invasion.

When he finally met the floor once more from his flip, he dashed ahead. Running past the combat of Jedi and clones, he tried desperately to flee to the nearest exit. Rarely did he leave the Jedi Temple, but it was always from the hangar. Hopefully that would be a worthy refuge.

[Clea Darkrunner]

Clea frowned as she walked quickly along the tubular tunnel. She wanted to turn, to shake the information from the young Jedi. She wanted to shout, to scream at her, to demand answers.

But though this was a Jedi, it was a Jedi CHILD. Instinctively, from the first day at Mama's Cathouse, Clea had protected children. She had crossed words enough with Taran Secundus, Detective-in-Charge, about her habit of injuring or killing drug dealers who tried to get children involved in drugs. She had made enough enemies in the pimps that preyed on underaged soponts that she slept with a vibroblade under her pillow.

And the girl was hurt. A blaster shot to the shoulder that Clea prayed would not get infected from the polluted water that she'd been in. It had been a pond, she judged, to begin with, but human blood had stained it a reddish tinge.

Human blood, and probably human guts too, from the destroyed Jedi bobbing in that dark water.

She turned, hearing the feet behind them speed up. "Run, child," she said urgently. "Run, I'll delay them. There's no cover here for you....."

In response, the young Jedi flicked on the blue blade that Clea had gained in the upper Temple, and shifted, her posture clearly defensive.

Clea barely deflected her shot upwards as the three people, clearly not clone troopers, came around the curve in the tunnel. The two Jedi supported a third, badly injured.

The look on the older one's face was clearly one of relief when he spotted her. "Kallea, thank the Gods! Where's your ship? We need to get off Coruscant - the clone troopers are slaughtering Jedi!"

Clea was dumbfounded. Was he talking to HER ?

"Kallea?" the Jedi said. "What's wrong? Why are you staring at me? We need to MOVE!"

The girl beside her snickered, an ugly sound in the echoing tunnel. "She claims she isn't Jedi," she said.

Her teeth bared, Clea retorted, "No, I said,"I don't know how to use this Jedi stuff." Listen well, brat. I don't know WHAT I am - I was dumped for dead in the Lower Levels, and I don't know any frelling thing 'bout ANY of this Jedi crap."

"Don't know, or don't remember, Kallea?" The older man's question was cut short by a spate of blaster bolds zinging overhead.

"RUN!" Clea howled, something in her tone pushing the others into motion. She pulled her spare power pack out and threw it toward the oncoming Clone troopers. A quick blaster shot, and it exploded like a bomb over the squad. She ran after the others, praying to the non-existant gods of the Lower Level that they'd find an exit soon.

[Belay Nisi]

Tirades of blue and red blaster bolts paraded through the central arena of the Jedi Temple. Belay had become fond of many aspects of the Temple's building over the year, and knew the in and outs of every corner like the back of his hand. However, the blast rattled his mind as the shine of blue, yellow,red and white shined throughout the darkness that fell over the invasion.

Not much time allowed the young Padawan time to think before he leaped to the heavens away from an oncoming bolt. Landing down, he touched the red carpeted floor. Blood leaked from sides, while the boyish features were contorted by recent endeavors. Beside him lay a once formidable opponent in training.

Days ago they had trained together to perfect their skills as they awaited a newly appointed Jedi Master. Many had fallen over the era of the Clone War and were definately in need of replacement. Belay was just another face of the many orphaned Padawans amidst the profusion of war.

In the flux of confusion, Belay's mind swayed for a moment at the thought of his fallen Master. Had he dealt with the same outburst of foolishness by the hands of war? Was he following down the same path that few Jedi had returned? Such negative thoughts separated him from the experienced Force-users that lay about him. They had died, and only the bid of the Force had allowed him to breathe any longer.

Taking that thought, he rode his feet forward and bashed into the attacker. A thud echoed through the Padawan's ears as he collided with the hardened armor about the clone's body. Before he knew it the two were bouncing against the floor in agony. The clone only grunted in response, but the Padawan knew the pain that overcame the man. He was not human, though a clone, and did not sustain the same will and prowess that a true sentient would. Belay's adversary was simply a product of war, without a definitive personality. He could not win.

In an abrupt, concentrated berate of anger, the young Jedi swung his lightsaber up and slashed at the struggling clone beside him. The legs that were slowly propelling the cloned figure to his feet fell underneath him, a sizzle of the lightsaber churning the material which made-up the limbs crinkling inside the clone's helmet. Swinging back, Belay dropped a final stab downward into the heart of his freshly killed enemy. The Padawan braid dangling from his back side bounced on his shoulder as he prepared himself for any other vermin.

Energizing his feet with the necessary fuel, he leaped up to the sky and landed a few yards away. Pressing forward, he headed further through the crowds of profusion, addressing all the blaster bolts that came his way. Although a sparse amount, he displayed an expertise in deflection and perfected a few bolts into a ricochet back at the enemy. Though none fatal because of his continuous motion forward, he left many clones at a shock.

Soon, hopefully...he would reach his destination.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A'na Eldhil brought the ship out of hyperspace to plot the coordinates for their second jump Corewards. "Lilaena, please report to the cockpit." Her young padawan bounced up the passageway, hesitating at the threshold and then walking in sedately.

"Yes Master Eldhil?" The girl folded her hands demurely, managing to refrain from twiddling her padawan braid, for once.

"I would like you to assist me in plotting the course. You will need to learn how to pilot soon enough."

"Neat!" Lilaena sat down in the co-pilot's chair quickly, her feet dangling over the steering pedals underneath the console. A'na smiled at her enthusiasm, but still felt underneath that something... something was terribly wrong.

She reached for the navicomp, and then stopped. "Girl, face me."

LIlaena swiveled in the chair, looking at her master with childish concern at the tone of A'na's voice. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Hush child." A'na reached out and took her padawan's hands. "Tell me, do you sense anything... unusual?"

"No."

"You answered too quickly, Padawan." A'na's voice was stern, and Lilaena's eyes snapped shut as she began to seek out a better, slower, answer.

A moment passed in silence, and then another.

"I sense..." Lilaena's voice wavered, "I feel sadness." Her green eyes opened and she looked at her master. "It is awful, Master."

A'na nodded, "I feel it too. There has been an emergency, and all Jedi are being ordered to return immediately to the Temple. We must hurry."

Lilaena nodded seriously, and quietly watched while A'na plotted the next jump.

[Zem Vymes]

My meditation had been disturbed a few seconds before arriving at my destination. I could hear blaster fire, and the thrum of a saber, just beyond the lift's door. It slid wide, and I was suddenly next to another Jedi, fighting for her life to avoid the deadly clone attack.

"Get in!"

My saber sparked to life, to block the rare shot that she did not, as I moved to the rear of the lift.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

So. It was a lift. And it seemed that she had a small bit of aid waiting for her as well.

Thank the Bloodline.

Obeying wordlessly, the Lupine continued to deflect the blaster shots being fired at her while slowly retreating into the momentarily safe haven offered by the lift. The doors shut, cutting off any more oncoming fire, and for a few seconds s'Il stood shakily, still holding her sabre in a guarded position across her front while staring wide-eyed at the closed doors.

Her body shook, muscles trembling with her exhertions, and the Lupine found herself unable to tear her gaze from the doors, expecting them to open at any moment and admit a sea of clonetroopers. And then, the sabre fell from her grip, shutting off before clattering across the floor to roll to a stop along one of the walls. Sinking first to her knees, she soon flopped back to sit tiredly in the middle of the lift and used the body of the dead clonetrooper to rest her back upon.

[UrunSaiShun]

Jolar and Arana speed through the temple hallways Arana leading the duo as Jolar watched their backs. They could hear screams and pleas for mercy soon silenced by blaster fire. "Here!" Arana yelled as she stopped before a lift door slamming the pad to activate the lift. Jolar looked about nervously as it seemed as the lift doors would never open. The doors soon slide open and threw herself inside grabbing Jolar's arm and pulling him in as clone blaster fire filled the hallway. The lift's doors shut and Arana slide to the floor against the lift wall. Jolar knelt down beside her as her eyes filled with tears. "Jolar, they're killing everyone, even the younglings! What is going on?" she said looking up at the lift ceiling searching for answers. "I don't know Arana, I dont know anything. All I do know is that you and I will make it out of this," he said standing up. "We have to let our masters know what is going on here," she collected herself standing up also. Yes, that was the reality Master Kaleth Sevron and Tzila'nerun were off-world on a mission commissioned by the jedi council.

"Find strength Arana," Jolar said as the lift slowed to the hangar floor. Arana nodded shaking back her fear and doubt. "Stay close," Jolar looked back as he ran out of the lift. The moved quickly down the hallway and into the large hangar bay.

[Belay Nisi]

Time had taken a toll on the youth. Training had not prepared him for such prolonged miracles. Albeit the Force was strong, and there was no room for a truce, it was hard for him to swim on with the turning tide. Whoever manipulated this catastrophe had done it to a perfection. Majestic natures could not barricade demise much longer, despite the Jedi's abilities.

Belay treaded on, negative thoughts ravaging his brain. Not a word had come from the many soldier's helmets, but their menacing status carried enough of a presence to demoralize him. He had competed against many since the faithful entrance into the invasion, yet his wins meant nothing. More troops overcame onslaughts of Jedi skills, and the calls of death could be heard in echo.

Anguish contorted the boy's face as he pushed on at another scream. Children from the youngling's chambers could be heard with hopeless, frail flails. Antics of the sporadic attack were stacking, and the time had come closer for his necessary escape. If the next step was not toward the exit, he would be just another causality.

Nisi had reigned throughout the galaxy for years, and Belay could only hold onto that herald image of his heritage as he leaped over the shimmer of armor. Not a slash or adept maneuver was made with his ignited lightsaber. Instead, he took to the defense and cautiously used his extended, glowing arm to send bolts aback.

A misstep and he was to the floor. Only a kick from the hangar door he sled across the polished floor. Dark lens of the numerous troopers flushed his vision. Splash of armor shimmered in the moonlight night, peering from the windows nearby. Coruscant's nightshades carried throughout the Temple, providing an eloquence to the darkened moment. Dire motion was in need, but his legs did not respond.

Default came upon him and his eyes closed. Bolts infested his frail frame and not a yell was made.

The Nisi were gone.

[Zem Vymes]

"We need an exit."

I sunk to my knees in a meditative stance, but I couldn't yet muster the collected mindset to actually perform the action.

"High seems right out. What about low? The archives?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Still reclining upon the dead trooper's body, s'Il turned an almost lazy stare to her rescuer.

Zem. How fortuitous.

A hand reached out, calling her sabre into her palm. She managed a deep sigh then, idly picking at the dead man before speaking up.

"Up, down, I'm not all too sure that it matters much." She pulled the knife from the trooper's throat to inspect the now-crimson blade. A quick swipe along her trousers left a red line and a slightly cleaner weapon, and she stuffed it into her boot.

The Lupine knew he was wanting a bit more of a definitive answer, and she looked to him for a brief moment, her fingers drumming on the white chestplate.

"You could always put this get-up on and sneak out," she mumbled absently.

[Zem Vymes]

"We have one suit of armor, and there are two of us."

I slowed my speech, regulated my breathing. I tried to return to center. Closing my eyes, I propped an arm against the side of the lift.

"They are near."

I leaned forward, holding s'Il's hand with my own, as we both slid along the control panel, trying to divine a direction from the buttons beneath our touch.

"See where I see."

[UrunSaiShun]

Jolar took the first wave of clone fire falling into the force, allowing his training to take full effect sending the bolts back to their masters'. Arana who was trained in the Ataru style perfected by her master, Tzila Nerun, flew into the air landing in a diving roll before four clone troopers. She came up slicing her blade to the right taking the helmets off of two of the soldiers. Stunned by the young girl's aerial acrobatics, the three remaining clones never saw Jolar coming. He was upon them, taking the one closest to Arana down shoving him through with his blue saber. He continued with the momentum, rolling over the back of the falling clone and and spinning his blade with his body dropping the last two clones without a scream.

"Hurry!" Arana yelled as was climbing into the cockpit of a jedi fighter. Jolar raced for the fighter as clones poured into the hangar bay through the main blast door. Arana was already bringing the fighter about when Jolar fell into the co-pilot seat with a yell of pain. "Are you alright?" Arana cried as the cockpit seal closed. "My shoulder, I'm ok just get us out of here," he said sitting up with a groan of pain. "Hold on!" Arana yelled as she blasted the engines of the starfighter . They flew out of the hangar bay followed by heavy cannon fire. Just as they started their climb into Coruscant's night sky, cannon fire clipped the left wing engine causing it to explode and sending the fighter spiraling downward into Coruscant's skyline. "Jolar!" Arana cried out trying to gain control of the falling craft. "Arana it's no use just hold on!" he yelled shoving himself back into his seat.

Arana threw her arms to shield her face as the fighter crashed into a tier of one a skyscraper skidding to a stop. Jolar threw back the cockpit coughing as smoke filled the room he through himself out of the fighter onto the office floor. "Arana!" he yelled her name as he stood up and reached the her seat. She made no sound he frantically searched for a pulse at her neck. "She's alive," he breathed unlatching her straps and pulled her unconscious body out of the pilot's seat. He grunted in pain as he threw her over his already wounded shoulder. He shouldered his way out of the office room door. He knew the clones would locate the wreck he had to put some distance between them and the crashed starfighter.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His hand over hers was a comforting thing, but comfort would have to come later. Right now they needed to run. Meditation would waste precious time, and her instincts screamed at her that to stay still would mean only death.

s'Il pulled away from his hold. She could not afford to wait for divining powers to show them the way out. They had to make their own way. Impatience fueled her actions as she grabbed the trooper's discarded helmet and stuffed it into Zem's now empty hands.

"Correction - there is only one of us."

A quick slap of her palm on the key pad sent the lift plummeting down into the depths of the temple, and turning back to the trooper, she went to work. Hurried fingers frantically tore away at the bone-white armor, pulling it away from the body and tossing it at Vymes.

"We can't waste the time it would take to prance our way out of this using meditation and fancy Jedi tricks," her breath came in huffs as she still pulled and yanked at the armor, "Simple is what we need. Simple and basic and primal."

A look was sent over to him. He was doing nothing... just... sitting there.

"Oi! Pay attention!" the Lupine punctuated her words with a jarring slap to his face.

[Zem Vymes]

I started to get the gist of what she was saying. Deftly, I removed the slain trooper's armor, wiping away any spilt blood from the armor as I removed binders from the utility belt.

"Slap them on. I just gotta think of a good reason to give somebody as to why you aren't dead."

She looked a little too willing a prisoner, even with the binders.

"Hope you don't take it personal, but I gotta bring a little color to your skin."

I hoisted the vibroknife from s'Il's boot.

"Or do you wanna do it?"

[Serena Laran]

It took hours to walk back to the village. Breathing carefully, Serena crept up to a ridge on her belly and looked down into the shallow basin that held the settlement.

There were no clones in sight. Closing her eyes, she reached into the Force, casting about for any nearby life.