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The Fall of the Temple, our fragile future.

STAR WARS: The Old Republic > English > Community Content > Fan Fiction
The Fall of the Temple, our fragile future.

Akitt's Avatar

12.27.2011 , 12:54 PM | #1
(Hey, first attempt at writing something like this so some constructive feedback would be really welcome!)

We’d all thought the shadow of war was soon to be lifted, that again the Republic would know peace. Between the sacking of the Temple and the bombardment of the planet I don’t remember much, save for the smell of ash and burning; even now I catch a whiff of it when I put my robe on. That dark day burnt was as much into its fibres as it had mine.

We are two half’s of the same stone, the Sith and we Jedi. What dark places revenge, malice and hate can lead the soul, what unspeakable paths they guide one down.

I thought I’d left the war behind, little did I… did anyone expect what was coming.


You couldn’t hear the patter of their tiny feet. A sound once of encouragement, and of hope, trampled under the claps of chaos and the deep rumblings capital ships breaking low atmosphere. The sound of the crash echoed through every hallowed hall, rousing duty in those seasoned Knights and fear in the Younglings.

Hirtius sprinted down the corridor, his robe flapping in his wake, his own footsteps silent under the calamity befalling the Temple. The glare of red blades in the corners of his eyes kept his pace, his pursuers relentless, their blood lust being fuelled by the chase. Another dark, masked figure, stepped out into his path only to be tackled in the waist, Hirtius throwing all his weight at the woman. Not pausing or slowing he threw her over his back, his Lightsaber activating for a fraction of second to pierce her heart before she fell back with a thud on the cold white marble.

Up ahead the Younglings tried to hide on seeing the Jedi’s chasers. He threw a hand out before him, beseeching the aid of the force, brining the blast-doors crashing down as he slid under on his side.


Younglings crept from their hiding places, five of them huddling at his back and peering at the door. Instinctively his arm was thrown back, shielding them while his other wove the force to barricade the door with tables, consoles and chunks of rock that had broken from pillars. The Younglings were still new to the order, none of them older then three or four and for a moment he imagined they’d all be missing the families they left.

Beyond the door the cursing of the dark warriors could be heard. Inside there was only quiet sobbing from a couple of the younglings. One of them, a little human boy tugged at Hirtius’ robe, apologising between his tears. The Consular tried to reassure the child in the moment’s peace he’d afforded them before noticing the small puddle in which the youngling was standing. He picked the child up, holding him close in one arm as he ushered the others to follow him down the last bit of the corridor and into the Hanger Bay.

The cursing had been replaced by the buzz of Lightsabers as the Sith began to cut through the door and its barricade. Hirtius and the younglings passed through a final door, which he brought crashing down like the previous, but the Sith were already cutting through.

Thorus, a Knight of the Order and Friend of Hirtius ran towards them, the remains of two Bounty Hunters still smoking as they lay strewn across the floor of the hanger behind him. A nod, that was all he and Hirtius exchanged before he was leaping through the air, blade drawn, and holding off the Sith Warriors.

Racing towards his ship Hirtius caught a glance of the devastation beyond the temple, the flames that seemed to be enveloping Coruscant and the dark shadows that betrayed the Imperial Ships above the city. Almost burnt into the side of his faded-red Corellian-Defender was the ships name: The Thunderchild.

The younglings were fastened in tightly before the Jedi began to prep the ship for takeoff. Beyond the glass of his cockpit Thorus could be seen dispatching the last Sith, but more could be seen storming towards him. He hurled the bodies of the two he’d slain towards the encroachers, taking a few down with them, before vaulting onboard The Thunderchild just before its hatch closed and it blasted out of the hanger.

Thorus checked on the frightened younglings for a moment before rushing to the bridge. Again, nothing was spoken between the pair of Jedi but the Knight quickly punched several commands into the consol and began to calculate the jump to Hyperspace.

The Thunderchild darted between fighters and Starships as it broke Coruscants besieged atmosphere. It took several hits but stayed the course and soon broke through the Imperial lines and jumped to Hyperspace, taking the Younglings to the sanctuary of Tython and the rest of the Order.

A different man may have had time for regrets, regrets of not having been able to save more, to do more. His precious cargo though was paramount, his duty and the demands of his person were absolute.

There is no emotion, there is peace
There is no death, there is the Force.
Consular Hirtius Aurentian
The Blind Guardians
"Right lives by law and law subsists by power"

Djeric's Avatar

12.28.2011 , 12:09 PM | #2
(Very Atmospheric. I enjoyed reading it. Anric was a young teenager during the sacking of the Temple. Maybe Hirtius saved him too )

Theodus's Avatar

12.28.2011 , 06:15 PM | #3
loved it! Thorus was a padwan at the time, and only hours away for his final test, the one that would make him a true knight. o those evil basterds. Think i will post Thorus version of what happend. Till then may the force be whit you