Averity

Commander Cyaka runs through the corridors of the fortress with the desperation of a dying man. He can feel it. He can feel the machine activating. What everyone's been working on stopping, what so many people sacrificed their lives for its destruction, is starting to activate. Jadus is winning. And that is something he cannot allow.

He arrives in the giant central room, and sees the machine in all its glory, starting to spin. He dashes to its centre, towards the silhouette sitting atop the throne, ready to change the galaxy forever.

And as he comes closer, that silhouette becomes clearer. He stops, dead in his tracks, right after the electricity starts to form a sphere around the mechanism.

"…Malgus."

The imposing Sith opens his eyes, and lowers them onto Cyaka. The calm, collected eyes, of someone who's already won.

"You are too late. I told you that you could not stop this…"

He marks a pause, and slightly tilts his head on the side. Cyaka frowns, holding a defensive stance, his gaze darting around the mechanism for any kind of solution.

"The galaxy is beyond repair--you must realise this." Malgus continues. Cyaka's grip tightens around his saberstaff. "To start anew, to burn it down and rebuild from the destruction... it is the only way."

Cyaka glances up at Malgus again, opening his mouth to throw back the usual witty remark at his enemy, when he suddenly meets his gaze. He freezes. Malgus is looking at him. It isn't a threatening, nor pleading look. He's simply expecting an answer. And Cyaka- Cyaka isn't going to waste this answer on a joke.

…The machine will reveal to anyone in the galaxy with Force sensitivity their potential. Reveal to them what they are capable of, if they try hard enough. That even the lonely child who doesn't think much of himself, even the tired overworked employee standing behind a desk all day, even… Even the slave stuck inside the deepest pit in the galaxy, are capable of rising as far as any other Jedi or Sith.

Why is he trying to stop this?

No- The machine isn't only that. It's a one-way communication device. If Malgus wanted to, he could use this opportunity to gather a following. He could do more than this, and even if he didn't, the consequences would…

…Make the current institutions crumble.

If he did this right- If anyone who used this machine, did it right- It wouldn't- It would cause chaos. A renaissance. A turnaround of the weak and the strong. Anyone in the galaxy with the right power could do what he did as an apprentice, all those years ago. Anyone could break free. Lives would be lost in the midst of the chaos, but- How many would be saved, by teaching them how much they can accomplish, before they could get killed by those who falsely pretend to be their betters?

Cyaka looks back at Malgus. The sphere around them is spinning faster, and faster. If he wants to stop him, he has to step in, now. Malgus frowns, sensing the tension in the air. He gets up from his mechanical throne, ready to fight back.

One last time, the grip around Cyaka's saberstaff tightens.

He takes a step back.

He straightens himself, before lifting his chin with what little dignity he has left, taking care of not breaking eye contact with Malgus.

"…I know."

—

Farther away in the fortress, Theron, Lana, and the ex-Barsen'thor, Sarh'el, are looking to catch back up to their lost Commander amidst the chaos. The energy signature changed in the last few minutes, and there is no more doubt about where the machine, Jadus, and Cyaka currently are. There hasn't been much action since that run for the cannon's commands, as the corridors are already littered with corpses, no doubt struck down by the Commander. She recognises the kind of wounds he inflicts by now. Besides, it can't be much of anyone else at this point.

The only few obstacles they meet fall like flies. They aren't resilient enough, and Sarh'el is getting antsy. Everyone is too out of breath to get distracted with chit chat, too, so nothing is really helping her stop the thoughts from bothering her. It's deeply annoying to her, when she's been trying so hard to stay focused and calm, to recenter herself and listen to the Force again. It's essential for her to do so if she wants to help her friends. If she wants to help Cyaka however she can with all this bullshit that keeps piling up on the Alliance's back.

No one should need to save the galaxy so many times, for so little gratitude in return. At the very least, she's glad that he's the centre of attention and not her; she's had enough of it while she was a part of the Jedi Order. Being powerful and capable isn't an excuse to be the galaxy's scapegoat. And that only happened to her because she manifested that talent for wielding the Force at such a young age.

She doesn't want to imagine what it could do to so many others if that machine is activated.

Outside of the consequences it would have on the natural order of things, of all Jadus could do to everyone who'd hear him, Sarh'el can only think of all the families this would destroy. Every kid who's childhood would be cut short, wether it be by the panic caused by such a sudden discovery, or having to flee the Jedi and Sith's relentless pursuits… Or being killed for what they are, amidst all of the chaos. She- The Alliance cannot allow this to come to pass.

Theron, Lana and her are probably going to arrive late to the party, if they arrive for this confrontation at all. She hates that it has to rely on him all of the time. It's unfair that she can't do be the one to ensure their success. But if it has to be anyone else… She trusts things to get things done. He's never done them wrong in the past. He'll try his best. That's all she can ask of him. That's all anyone can ask of anyone else, actually.

She hears Lana and Theron argue with Acina over the coms. She frowns, the interaction leaving a sour taste in her mouth. This is how they're rewarded for everything they do. They get caught up in the destruction. Like she said before, no gratitude whatsoever, to save the ones who saved the galaxy for them countless times before.

Theron and her look at each other while Lana tries to warn Cyaka through their private channel. They both nod, the same sparking determination in their eyes. They're not leaving without him.

She's not afraid to die. Death isn't in the Force's plans for her, she knows it. She doubts Cyaka's is either, but it's not going to stop her from doing her best to prevent it anyways. But they don't get to progress very far ahead, before something much, much worse reaches Sarh'el's mind.

A voice.

A voice curled up around her ear, whispering about the power she holds. And Lana's horrified look, shooting back at her own, tells her everything she needs to know.

Somewhere deep in space, a spy feels the flow of the Force abruptly imposing itself onto their body. A captain suddenly stands up, startled by the sudden reminder of her own curse. A Jedi looks up at the stars, holding her breath, readying herself for the chaos of a scale none of them have ever witnessed before.

Malgus is doing it. Darth Nul's machine has been activated.

—

Jadus is fleeing. He's cowardly running away, again, never letting himself get reached by his enemies - he knows he'd lose. They'd have to outsmart him if they want to have the slightest chance to get rid of this pathetic excuse of a Sith. The Commander watches the meditation chamber leave the fortress, frustratingly unscathed after everything it's just put them through, again. But his shouts seem to fall on deaf ears; Malgus isn't answering him, letting him trying to find solutions for pursuing him on his own. Cyaka turns back to him, greatly angered by the other's silence.

"Malgus!"

And then he freezes. The Sith is back on the mechanical throne. Of course he wouldn't give Jadus' daring escape another care. He's only come this far for one, single thing. And it's finally in his grasp.

"Are you listening?"

Malgus' voice, booming in his head so suddenly, startles him. He's not just back on the throne- he's using it. He's using the machine. This- This is it. Every person in the entire galaxy with even a slight affinity to the Force has heard his voice already. It's begun.

"Can you hear me?"

Malgus raises his gaze back up as he speaks. Cyaka doesn't know if he's still wary of him intervening, if he's telling him that he's won, or if he's still too focused on what he's doing to even care. He, too, quickly stops caring about any intention Malgus might have. He doesn't even care if he betrays him, after this is done. There's nothing left to betray him from. The only thing Cyaka cared about Malgus doing is already being done. And there's nothing anyone can do to stop it.

He takes a step back, struck silent by the enormity of what's happening. The giant sphere mechanism spins around them both, surrounding them with the calming blue light of the electricity it's generating. Glowing particles are slowly falling to the ground, contrasting with the speed at which the machine is working. With the intensity of everything that is going to fall apart with Malgus' every next words.

This… is a good thing. It has to be.

His allies' faces flash in his mind as his chest fills with the anticipation of everything that is to come. He promised the Voss that he would stop the impending chaos they foresaw. Everyone came together despite the numerous tensions to stop Jadus from using this, and they all trusted him to struck the finishing blow. Sa'har begged him to do what she couldn't - she seemed so scared. Lana has never been a fan of using this machine, unless it was for the Alliance's benefit only. Theron was always worried that this would be taking a choice from everyone who'd hear the user's voice. Jekiah and Rass were waiting for him to end this, somewhere else inside the fortress, over Shae's still warm, motionless body. All of his allies had their reasons for not wanting this to happen, and yet, here he is, standing still in front of it, letting it all happen.

He feels his legs failing him.

But he doesn't get the luxury of letting himself fall to the ground. His eyes flicker upwards upon perceiving the rock about to fall on top of Malgus, before he's even able to utter another word. He looks back down at the other Sith, who closed back his eyes, focusing on the people he's trying to reach. He feels the adrenaline pump back in his legs. He barely hesitates before dashing forward, narrowly avoiding everything else falling apart, inside the machine, to stop the projectile a few meters away from the ground and decisively crushing it, making his hand into a steadfast fist. He allows himself to breathe again.

This could bring everything to ruin. Make governments crumble for the inside out. People - good people - might fight, might die, for ridiculous things, before anything could get stabilised again. Everything could have to be rebuilt from the ashes left behind. He might lose everything he ever cared about to this future. If not from the events, at least from the hate he'll have gathered for letting this happen. Everyone will turn against him. He'll have betrayed them all. Everyone he ever cared about.

It should be terrifying. He knows it should. But this is the promise of a world where the weak can find strength. Of a world where the Republic and the Empire might fall under their own incapability of handling a change of this scale, as he knows all of their institutions are based around the weak staying weaker than them. Everything will be turned upside down, and the ones who will suffer the most for it are currently at the top of the food chain, fearful of having their place taken away.

He has tried to change this rotten Empire from the inside for so long. Despite all the rules he gave up on, he has only ever tried to bring forth a new age through outdated traditions. He fought for a status quo that has never brought him anything but pain and more problems to fix, for the people who it truly benefits to keep things this way. It never did him any good. It never did any of the people he cared to protect any good, despite how many times he believed that, if he tried hard enough, the Empire would finally become the home he saw in it. He's been trying to push away that realisation for the past few weeks. That the people in power would have never allowed him to change it, anyways. So why should he care about their destruction? If they fall to this, they never deserved to stand in the first place.

A pillar detaches itself from the ceiling. Cyaka struggles against the inner barrier of the machine to get close enough to properly stop its fall. He catches it in mid-air, a few meters away from an unwavering Malgus. Cyaka grunts, standing against both the weight of the pillar, and the raw power of the machine flowing through him, as he stands closer than ever to the active throne.

His legs give out from under him. He takes a knee, or rather, violently smashes it to the ground, incapable of keeping it straight. But he doesn't let go. He will stand strong, until the very end if he has to.

He knows that the consequences for his actions will be numerous, and harsh. It's likely that no one will understand why he made that decision. That he is about to lose the base for that quiet life he started to want. Maybe Khem and Andronikos would still follow him, if he's lucky enough not to lose sight of them again. He's not so sure about… Any of the others, really.

He thinks about Xalek and Ashara, who he never could stay for, to properly wrap up their apprenticeship. He thinks about Talos, who'd always blindly put his faith in him, and about his undying loyalty for the Empire. He thinks about Theron, about all the nights spent comforting each other over wounds they didn't know how to heal, and the wedding they promised to have when things quieted down. He thinks about Lana, who always put her trust in him through his stupidest of plans, who never, ever even slightly betrayed him, despite his failures and shortcomings as a leader, and as a friend. He thinks about the people who he promised to that going back to the Empire was a good thing. That he'd protect the Alliance and its people, no matter what would come next.

To this day, he regrets not being the symbol the Alliance needed when it elevated him as its Commander, and he regrets the lives lost because of it. He regrets catering to Acina's every whim to regain a trust she never granted him, and losing precious time and ressources on an ally that never treated him as such. He regrets everything that he never did, out of fear of what would happen if he risked it; and everything he never said, because of what could change if he did.

After today, he will mourn the people who will leave, and he will mourn the roads that will henceforth be barred to him. But it would not be regret; it would be remorse. And he would much rather live with the remorse of a choice he made, than live with the regrets, born of letting himself get carried by a flow that would inevitably lead him away from what truly matters.

He starts to feel the wear on his muscles, and his hold on the projectile above his head starts to slowly, but surely, weaken. He might die in this fortress, struck down by the fortress crumbling under Acina's canons, the Empress he truly wanted to believe in when she said she'd turn the Empire around for the better.

He huffs a laugh. Perhaps that is the trade-off he deserves for what he's doing. For what he's done to the galaxy for all these years. Death seems kinder that whatever he can imagine, right about now. He looks back up at Malgus, still a few meters away from being crushed to death by the giant pillar, still barely holding on from Cyaka's fingertips. After all these years of playing cat and mouse with each other, dying as a sacrifice for the new world they both want to see rise from the ashes of the Empire and the Republic, together on top of it all, seems almost fitting.

And as the tension builds ever more in the air, he can almost feel it. The Force. Calling for the impending change.

For thousands upon thousands of voices to break free from the centuries of pain the stalemate in the Force has caused.

For the arrival of a new age under the new balance coming for the universe.

He closes his eyes. The air is already starting to shift, and the Force has begun to embrace it.

In a heartbeat, as his grip on everything around him is starting to slip, as the pillar finally falls down on top of Malgus and him, he follows suit.