Entry Eleven

I meditated on the bridge of a command ship, one of many in the fleet that periodically dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the Bright Jewel system and headed for Ord Mantell. Every space-worthy warship in the Republic quickened to this pivotal battle of the Jedi Civil War.

I sat at the end of a long polished platform in front of the bridge viewport. Officers and technicians worked at computer stations along the sides of the bridge in trenches. Six Jedi exited the lift far behind me. I heard the tap of their boots as they came closer, as well as felt through the Force their learned calm. Three were older than me and each had their padawan with them. Two padawans hid beads of terror at their centers, guarded by mantras echoing in their minds. I related to those two. The Jedi halted a yard away.

Admiral Forn Dodonna, a human female and veteran of the Mandalorian Wars, clip-clopped up the side steps ahead and onto the platform, going to my front. "We've reached primary sensor range. As discussed before, you six and Bastila will join minds and do whatever it is you do to bolster the coordination of our forces. I'll alert you when we've found an opening to Darth Revan's flagship. Seven fighters are readied in aft docking bay, third level. Good luck."

The planet Ord Mantell swelled to consume most the viewport. Legions of Revan's dreadnoughts stained the skies and far orbit of the mountainous and oceanic planet with its wispy clouds.

Many ships with the same design as the Leviathan opened fire. Which one contained the Dark Lord? The bridge jerked. I saw laser cannons scorch the sides of another Hammerhead. Enemy fighters poured like black clouds from their carriers. Admiral Dodonna ordered the Republic fleet to fire a barrage of its own lasers. The two opposing sides exchanged a minutes-long storm of flashing bolts.
Ships from both navies blasted apart and spewed fountains of lava-hot fire, consuming nearby units and littering space with debris. Then ally fighters were away. I closed my eyes. The six Jedi sat down and joined me. I focused on our side at large, while they exuded tranquility and mental healing at me when needed.

The Republic disabled or destroyed a number of Sith dreadnoughts and frigates, wiped out many thousands of fighters. Our military experts and most advanced droids teamed together and profiled the micro-tactics of the still operational Sith command ships to pin-point Revan's location, if he yet survived. Revan randomly changed his tactics and behavioral patterns, making the task daunting, but even a military genius had to eventually return to what was familiar. The battle had lasted a solid hour when Admiral Dodonna hurried over and gave me the ID. We were winning in material by some twenty percent. But the Dark Side was growing stronger among the enemy.

- - -

I stabbed a Dark Jedi in his heart, pulled my blade up through his shoulder, and blocked a saber strike from another. Three of my remaining comrades were occupied with their own duels. Darth Revan, the hooded warrior in his distinct robes and ancient t-visored mask, activated his red lightsaber and turned to an armed Jedi who ran at him. The last of his Dark Jedi guard possessed more stamina and skill than any we had fought on the way through the flagship to the bridge. The foe managed to nick the fabric of my robes, then slice a flesh wound on my upper arm. I moved constantly, attacking and defending, and then. . .

The entire chamber shook violently and an instant later a flaming hurricane shattered the viewport. I lost my footing. As I fell, every surface I saw vibrated to a blur and cracked apart. The sound of the blast fueled the tremor and fire roared as it grew and drained the air. My elbow smacked the deck. I rolled into a ball.

"Come on." A hand patted my chest. "He's dead. We need to make a run for it." I sat up to see it was Pitch Erum, a Jedi with a scruffy beard and crew cut.

A comm at his belt beeped. "Repeat --- Darth Malak opened --- betrayed Revan ---"

I looked around. The bridge was burnt and broken. A force-field wavered over the huge gap left behind from the attack. Obscenely-bent corpses scattered the walkway, charred organs smeared floor and walls. Two other Jedi had lived, the second a young man whispering to the dead body of his master. One man lay sprawled face-down at the far end.

The crippled vessel quaked, creaked, and groaned. The comm informed us that Malak maintained his treacherous bombardment.

There was comedy to be found in the over-the-top destruction of this war. I had caught the best joke. I giggled like a little girl, threw my head back and laughed hysterically.

"Great. You lost your frakkin' mind, too." Pitch grabbed me under the arm and pulled as he stood.
I let him help me to my feet. But my good humor vanished quite suddenly. "Malak lives." I cleared my throat. "That means he'll return to that source to create another fleet." And he would destroy the Republic. Enslave civilization.

The young padawan said a last goodbye to his master and darted past us for the exit.

Pitch glanced at the boy then looked to me. "Do I need to pick you up 'n haul you outta here like a sacka grain?"

I ran to the fallen Dark Lord, knelt down, and turned him over. The weight of his upper torso settled in my lap. Sweat dribbled down my back and I noted the temperature was rising. I took either side of the man's mask, slid it from his face, and set it down. I asked myself how a person who now looked so vulnerable and endearingly handsome could be capable of evil, but cast the question away and settled my palm on his forehead. I closed my eyes and reached my mind into the chasm where his spirit would normally reside. At first I felt a void and feared he was in fact dead. I searched through the dark, going deeper.

A spark of life flickered.