From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived

Moving with Force-augmented speed, Aryn easily avoided the Alderaanian guards posted on the grounds of the compound. A canine with one of the guard teams must have caught her smell. It growled as she passed, but before the guards could turn on their infrared scanners, Aryn was already a hundred meters away. She did not exit through any of the checkpoints. Instead, she picked her way among the gardens until she reached the compound’s walls, veined in green creepers blooming with yellow and white flowers.

Without slowing, she drew on the Force, leapt into the air, and arced over the five-meter wall. She hit the ground on the other side, free.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived

Aryn did not bother to respond. She dwelled in the Force, floated in and on the warm network of lines that connected all things, one to another. Her consciousness expanded to see and feel everything near her. She focused on her perception of the passage of time, first on how it felt as she moved through it, then on spreading it, stretching it, until she could linger in a millisecond as if it were a moment, then a minute. To Zeerid it would appear that she were a blur of motion, existing simultaneously in multiple places. To her, it felt as if the universe around her had stilled. She smiled, seeing the moments that hung before her, each millisecond a long moment in which she could think, in which she could act. The effort taxed her, and she knew she could not maintain it for long.

“Watch the scanner,” Zeerid said, his words a lifetime in the utterance.

She did not watch the scanner. Her body could respond faster than any machine.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived

Using the Force to slow her descent, she hit the ground in a crouch and sped off.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived

She crossed the room and stepped through the sliding doors to her balcony. The brisk wind mussed her hair. The scent of wildflowers and loam saturated the air. Insects chirped. A night bird cooed. It would have been peaceful under other circumstances.

A hundred meters down, the Alderaanian landscape unrolled before her, a meadow of tall grasses, shrubs, and slim apo trees that whispered and swayed in the breeze.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived

ARYN FELT DIZZY. A rush of emotion flooded her. She could not name it, categorize it. It was just a wash of inchoate, raw feeling. She was swimming in it, sinking.

“Something is happening, Syo,” she said, her voice tight. “I don’t know what it is, but it is not good.”

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

Due to her empathic sense, Aryn felt the dread in the air as a tangible thing, a pall that overhung the entire planet. It wore on her, weighed her down. The towers of duracrete and transparisteel seemed ready to fall in on her. She felt hunched, tensed in anticipation of a blow. The dread was omnipresent, an entire planet of billions of people projecting raw emotion into the air.

She could not wall them out. She did not want to wall them out. The Jedi had failed them. She deserved to feel what they felt.

“Aryn, did you hear me? Aryn?”

She came back to herself to see Zeerid standing beside an open-topped Armin speeder.

ARYN DID NOT NEED to consult her scanner display to know that the ships of the convoy were peeling away to give the cruiser and frigates a clear field of fire.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Decieved:

The Works was difficult to comprehend all at once. The central chamber itself was several kilometers in diameter and hundreds of meters tall. Tiered flooring and a network of stairs and cage lifts made the whole of it look like a mad industrial artist’s take on an insect hive. Aryn always felt miniaturized when she saw it. It seemed made for an alien race ten times the size of humans: gears as large as starfighters, pipes wide enough to fly a speeder into, individual mechanisms that reached floor-to-ceiling, chains and belts hundreds of meters long. Hundreds of droids scurried, rolled, and walked among the workings, checking gauges, readouts, maintaining equipment, greasing mechanisms. The sound was overwhelming, a deafening industrial cacophony.

Compared with the advanced technology apparent elsewhere on Coruscant—with its sleek lines, compact designs, and sheer elegance—the Works looked primitive, garish in its enormity, like a throwback to ancient times when steam and combustion powered industry. But Aryn knew it was an illusion.

The Works stretched under Coruscant’s crust from pole to pole, generally accessible only through the hubs. Its pipes, lines, hoses, and conduits formed the circulatory system of the planet, through which water, heat, electricity, and any number of other necessities flowed. It represented the peak of Republic technology.

“Follow me!” she shouted above the noise, and Zeerid nodded.

Following signs and calling upon her memory, Aryn led Zeerid through the maze of raised flooring, lifts, and autostairs.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Decieved:

Aryn decided that it could not be coincidence. It was the Force showing her that the course she pursued was the right one, at least for her.

THE SHOCK HIT ARYN with little warning, the sensation as sudden and powerful as a blaster shot. Her body spasmed. The tranquillity bracelet in her hand, the bracelet given her by Master Zallow, snapped in her clenched fist and the tear-shaped bits of coral rained to the floor.

She doubled over, moaned. Her stomach sank. Her vision blurred. The room spun. Her legs dissolved under her and she felt herself slipping, falling, sinking. A fist formed in her throat, throttling the cry that wanted release and allowing it loose only as an aborted, grief-ridden wail.

Through their connection in the Force, she felt the sharp stab of agony that Master Zallow experienced, felt her own breath hitch in sympathy as he took his final breath and died. The line of his life, usually so bright in her mind’s eye when she felt the Force, usually so close to her own line, vanished from her perception.

Beside her, Syo’s sharp, surprised intake of breath told her that he had felt something, too.

Despite her pain, the rising despair, the reality settled on her immediately. She had seen it in the eyes of the Sith male.

Despite her pain, the rising despair, the reality settled on her immediately. She had seen it in the eyes of the Sith male.

“What was that?” Syo asked, his voice seemingly far away, but his question fat with ugly possibilities.

She lifted her head, her long hair dangling before her face, and stared across the room. Both Sith were standing, their bodies tensed, knowledge in their eyes.

“We are betrayed,” she answered, her voice a hiss.

She left it unsaid that her Master, the man who had been a father to her, was dead.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived

“The Temple will have vids of the attack. I need to see how he died.”

“It could’ve been bombs, Aryn. Anything.”

She shook her head before he finished his sentence. “No. It was a Sith.”

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Decieved:

“We’re fifty kilometers up, Aryn!” Zeerid said, his voice rising for the first time. “The velocity alone—”

She grabbed him by the arm and gave him a shake to shut him up. “Do not let go of me no matter what. Do you understand? No matter what.”

His eyes were wide behind the lenses of his mask. He nodded.

She did not hesitate. She sank into the Force, cocooned them both in a protective sheath, and leapt out of the ship and into the open air.

The wind and velocity tore them backward. They slammed into the ship’s fuselage and whipped through the flames pouring out its sides. At almost the same moment, plasma fire from the cruiser above them hit Fatman dorsally and the ship exploded into an expanding ball of flame. The blast wave sent them careering crazily through the sky and set them to spinning like a pinwheel. For an alarming moment, Aryn’s vision blurred and she feared she would lose consciousness, but she held on to awareness with both hands and fought through it.

Zeerid was shouting but Aryn could not make it out.

Her stomach crawled up her throat as they plummeted, spinning wildly, toward the planet below. Her perspective alternated crazily from flaming pieces of Fatman, to Coruscant below, to the sky above and the distant silhouette of the Imperial cruiser, to Fatman again. The motion was pulling the blood from her head. Sparks blinked before her eyes. She had to stop the spinning or she would pass out.

She made her grip a vise around Zeerid and used the Force first to slow, then to stop the spin. They ended up hand in hand, passing through clouds, falling at terminal velocity toward Coruscant’s surface.

FTER THE CHAOS OF THE COCKPIT, the quiet of the fall seemed oddly incongruous. Aryn heard only the rush of the wind, the steady thump of her heartbeat in her ears. Zeerid’s fear was a tangible thing to her, and it fell with them.

She felt free, exhilarated, and the feeling surprised her. To the east Coruscant’s surface curved away from them and the morning sun crept over the horizon line, bathing the planet in gold. The sight took her breath away. She shook Zeerid’s arm and nodded at the rising sun. He did not respond. His eyes stared straight down, iron to the respond. His eyes stared straight down, iron to the magnet of the planet’s surface. Aryn allowed herself to enjoy the view for a few seconds before trying to save their lives.

The drag increased as the thin air of the upper atmosphere gave way to the thicker, breathable air of the lower. Below them, Coruscant transformed from a brown-and-black ball crisscrossed with seemingly random whorls of light, to a distinguishable geometry of well-lit cities, roads, skyways, quadrants, and blocks. She could make out tiny black forms moving against the urbanscape, the ants of aircars, speeders, and swoops, but far fewer than ordinary. Plumes of smoke traced twisting black lines into the air. Large areas of Galactic City lay in ruins, dark lesions on the skin of the planet.

The Empire must have killed tens of thousands. More, perhaps.

The wind changed pitch, whistled past her ears. She fancied she heard whispers in it, the soul of the planet sharing its pain. Her clothing flapped audibly behind her.

Below, she could distinguish more and more details of Coruscant’s upper levels: the lines of skyscrapers, the geometry of plazas and parks, the orderly, straight lines of roads.

She let herself feel the descent and used the feeling to fall into the Force. Nestled in its power, she marshaled her strength. She pulled Zeerid toward her. Unresisting, he felt as limp as a rag doll in her hands. She drew him to her, under her, wrapped her arms and legs around him.

“Ready yourself,” she shouted in his ear. “Nod if you understand.”

His head bobbed once, tense and rapid.

The buildings below grew larger, more defined. They descended toward a large plaza, a flat trapezoid of duracrete with stratoscrapers anchoring each of its corners.

“I will slow us,” she shouted. “But we will still hit with some force. I will release you before we hit. Try to roll with the impact.”

He nodded again.

She lowered her head, angled her body, and tried to use the wind resistance to create some slight motion forward, rather than entirely downward. The ground rushed up to meet them.

They passed through the ring of sky rises, plummeting past the roofs, windows, balconies. Given the hour, she doubted anyone saw their descent.

She reached out with the Force, channeled power into a wide column beneath them. She conceptualized the power as somewhat similar to what she would use when augmenting a leap, except that instead of a sudden rush of power to drive her upward, she instead used the power in a gentler, passive fashion. She imagined it as a balloon, soft and yielding at first, but providing ever-increasing resistance as they fell farther into it.

They slowed and Zeerid shifted in her grasp. Perhaps he did not believe it.

Pressure built behind Aryn’s eyes, an ache formed in her head.

The balloon of her power slowed them further. She could see benches in the plaza, a fountain. She could distinguish individual windows in the skyrises around them. They were five hundred meters up and still falling fast.

The pressure in her brain intensified. Her vision blurred. The ache in her head became a knife stab of pain. She screamed but held on, held on.

Four hundred meters. Three hundred.

They slowed still more and Aryn feared she could not bear any more.

Two hundred.

A second stretched into an eternity of pain and pressure. She thought she must burst.

“Hang on, Aryn!” Zeerid said, his voice muffled by the mask. He was rigid in her arms.

Fifty meters.

They were still going too fast.

Twenty, ten.

She dug deep, pulled out what power she could, and expended it in a final shout, an expulsion of power that entirely arrested their descent for a moment. They hung in the air for a fraction of a second, suspended only by the invisible power of the Force and Aryn’s ability to use it.

And then they were falling free.

She released Zeerid and they both hit the duracrete feetfirst, the shock of impact sending jolts of pain up Aryn’s ankles and calves. She rode the momentum of the fall into a roll that knocked the wind from her and tore a divot of skin from her scalp.

But she was alive.

She lifted herself to all fours, every muscle screaming, legs quivering, blood dripping from her scalp. She tore off her mask.

“Zeerid!”

“I’m all right,” he answered, his voice as raw as old leather. “I can’t believe it, but I am all right.”

She sagged back to the duracrete, rolled over onto her back, and stared up at dawn’s light spreading across the sky. The long thin clouds, painted with the light of daybreak, looked like veins of gold. She simply lay there, exhausted.

Zeerid crawled over to her, cursing with pain throughout. He peeled off his mask and lay on his back next to her. They stared up at the sky together.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

The male Sith reached for his lightsaber. Before he could activate it, Aryn unleashed a blast of power that lifted both Sith from their feet and blew them into the wall. Two Alderaanian statues, caught in the effect of her power, slammed into the wall to either side of the Sith and shattered into chunks.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

Before the Twi’lek could fire, Aryn gestured with her left hand, and both of the blasters flew from the Twi’lek’s hands and landed at Aryn’s feet. The Twi’lek’s hands and landed at Aryn’s feet. The Twi’lek mouthed something lost in the muffle of her mask. Aryn stepped over and past the blasters.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

Behind her, Aryn heard the hum of Syo activating his blade. She did not slow her advance. Using the Force, she jerked the male’s hilt from his hand and brought it flying into her own grasp. Then she tossed it aside, and his sneer melted in the heat of his surprise.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

Anger went forth from Malgus. He reactivated Master Zallow’s blade and hurled it after them. Zeerid tried to wheel out of the way but the blade curled and kept coming at them. T7 beeped in alarm.

Aryn watched the weapon spin, felt it, and before it reached the speeder, she reached out with the Force and snatched it from Malgus’s mental grasp. The weapon turned upward over the speeder and descended hilt-first into her hand as Zeerid rose into the night sky and sped away. She deactivated it.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived

Aryn gestured at a cargo tram near the three men shooting at them from behind. The six cars of the tram rushed toward the men, propelled by Aryn’s power. They scrambled aside, and Aryn and Zeerid dashed for Fatman.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived

Taking telekinetic hold of a large stone near Malgus, she flung it at him. He never moved, simply held his ground and split the incoming rock in two with his lightsaber. Red sparks and bits of stone rained down.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

She advanced on him, heedless of the woman, imagining the feel of her hands on his throat. He answered her approach with a blast of power, but she made a V with her hands, formed a wedge with her will, and deflected the blast to either side of her. More statues toppled, shattered. The female Sith, caught in the deflected blast, was thrown backward ten paces.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

A ROAR, heavy with hate and rage, pulled Aryn’s eyes skyward. Malgus descended like a meteor. His cape flew out behind and over him, a comma of cape flew out behind and over him, a comma of darkness, and he held his lightsaber in a two-handed grip. Power went before him in a wave of visible distortion. The shuttle out of which he had leapt flew off into the night sky.

Aryn fell fully into the Force, raised her defenses, took a fighting stance, and parried Malgus’s two-handed overhand slash. Still, he landed in a cocoon of power, hitting the ground in an explosion of might that shattered the stones around them and turned them into a hail of shrapnel.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

He bit back his reply and once more they wrapped T7 in their shared grasp and leapt into the void. Again Aryn’s power slowed their descent and cushioned their landing.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

Malgus parried crosswise with his blade and stepped into a Force-augmented side kick aimed at her ribs. She caught the kick with her free hand, closed her arm over his leg, spun, and flung Malgus twenty meters from her.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

Malgus spun into a high, Force-augmented kick that hit Zallow in the chest and sent him flying backward ten meters.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

He rolled for cover away from the woman as more and more shots from the three men caged him in. Near him, a civilian moaned, presumably hit in the crossfire. A woman shrieked.

He had to get clear.

But before he could stand Aryn was over him, her blade a blur of motion that formed a cocoon of green light around them, deflecting blaster shots in all directions. She grabbed him under his armpit and helped him to his feet while still deflecting shots.

“Up,” she said. “Up.”

He still had not caught his breath enough to reply, but with her assistance he got to his feet.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

The two men between Aryn and Zeerid and the ship had blasters in hand, firing as they approached. Aryn’s lightsaber hummed to life, spun a rapid arc before them, and deflected the shots into the ceiling and floor.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

The Twi’lek got her blasters clear and fired two, four, six shots at Zeerid. Aryn slid before him and her blade deflected all of the shots, two of them back at the other soldier, which opened small holes in the soldier’s mask. He fell forward onto the ramp, dead.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

Aryn used the Force to augment her strength, her speed. She felt it flowing within and around her, turning her body into a weapon—

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

She leapt over it, pulling her legs in tight, and loosed a two-handed overhead strike as she came back down. Malgus parried crosswise with his blade and stepped into a Force-augmented side kick aimed at her ribs. She caught the kick with her free hand, closed her arm over his leg, spun, and flung Malgus twenty meters from her. He flipped in midair and landed atop the cracked face of the Odan-Urr statue that had once lined the processional approach into the Temple.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

The moment she landed, Malgus was upon her, his blade slashing, stabbing, spinning. He tried to use his superior strength to force her off the stone, off balance, but she answered his strength with speed, sidestepping his blows, leaping over them, parrying, unleashing her own flurries. The hum of their weapons through the air, the sizzle of crossed blades, merged into a single song of speed and power.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

She and Darth Malgus bounded across the ruins of the Temple, their blades flashing, locking, the speed of their duel so fast Zeerid could barely follow their movement. Despite himself, he found the combat beautiful.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

Ready for it, she activated Master Zallow’s lightsaber, used it to form an X with her own, and intercepted the lightning on the two blades.

His power met her will. The lightning twisted around the glowing blades. The force of it stopped her downward descent and held her aloft in the air for a moment, suspended on a column built of the dark side.

And then she overcame it. The lightning dissipated to nothingness and she, unharmed by it, fell straight down, landing on her feet atop a shifting pile of rubble and deactivating Master Zallow’s blade.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

“I am more than your match, Sith,” she said over the sparks of their joined lightsabers.

“Your Master was not,” Malgus said, grunting, and shoved her with a telekinetic blast of such force that she flew backward and slammed into the rock and rubble. She used the Force to cushion the impact, but she still landed on her back and the impact blew the breath from her lungs.

Malgus leapt high into the air, shouting with rage, his blade held high for a killing stroke. She rolled aside as he came down and his blade sank to its hilt in the rubble of the Temple. She leapt to her feet and unleashed a backhand crosscut at his throat.

From Star Wars: The Old Republic: Deceived:

She had fought Imperial forces on Alderaan, had beaten them into retreat. She wanted nothing more than to fight them again now.