Jedi Mission: When All Other Lights Go Out...

[Pam0wl]

When Sigal finally regained consciousness it was with a pained, barely audible groan. Discomfort blossomed with each movement, but the Hapan was determined to sit herself up; lying on the cold metal surface of the ship's hall had made her joints stiff and her muscles sore. The tight bindings which restrained her certainly didn't improve her welfare either. She stilled for a moment, listening attentively with instinctual preservation; she sensed no immediate threats within the vicinity, though she could still choke on the Sith's lingering aura. He was still on the ship, which meant she was still in danger.

With laboured dexterity and strained manoeuvring, Sigal edged the dagger from her boot until she could grasp it firmly within her hand. Cutting her bonds and ridding herself of the makeshift blindfold, she quickly scanned her surroundings. Artificial lights blinded her at first, eliciting a hiss from the sensitive Hapan. Her hand moved to shield her eyes but even their touch caused her pain. The beast had struck her with tremendous force, just the sheer memory was enough to enflame Sigal with bitter anger. She could feel the broken skin of her cheek, crusted with dried blood; by now the wound was enflamed and bruise, unsightly as the body began its natural healing process. If not for fear of her own life, Sigal would have no doubt ravaged and raged at the slight - but there were more pressing matters to attend. She had to survive. She had to escape.

Sigal quickly retrieved her comlink from her boot though she wasn't sure how strong the signal would be travelling through hyperspace.
"Come on, come on." She muttered in a fevered hush, looking nervously around periodically as she did so. "This is a message to any frequencies and open channels. This is Jedi Sigal Adi Chume'da; I have been taken hostage by a hostile enemy. If anyone can hear me-"

The comlink flew out of her hands, compacting and breaking into a crumpled mess as it did so. In the doorway, stood the horn headed sith. The comlink, now crushed and warped beyond use, twiddled in his fingers.

"It's no use, little Jedi" The Sith spoke softly as he absently regarded the broken device between his fingers. "No one is coming to help you and no one is coming to save you. You have been... abandoned." He let the ruined mechanism fall to the floor as he slowly advanced, relishing each thunderous step he took. His sneer only deepened as Sigal slowly backed away, brandishing her dagger in futile resistance. "Now, now. Don't make me have to punish you again. I won't be so gentle..." He grinned, reaching to touch Sigal's enflamed, swollen cheek.

But the proud Hapan lashed out, slicing the tip of Zabrak's fingers in blatant defiance. She would not cower before her enemies. More importantly, she needed to buy herself time, think of plan. ""My master...Valen, he will find me. And he will stop you...The children. What were your plans for them? Can't find someone your own size so you decide to pick on someone weaker? Using slavers no less to do your dirty work..."

But the Sith merely chuckled at her words, seeming amused with the situation. "You know nothing. But soon all will become clear. For now, I suggest you prepare yourself, little Jedi..." the tips of the Sith's fingers began to glow with devilish lightning.

Sigal tensed, letting out a shaky, apprehensive exhale. "For what?" She remembered the bitter sting of electrical currents, their paralysing ability to rob one's body of control. All that it gave in return was pain and agony. The Sith practically licked his lips in delight.

"One can no step foot on Malachor without some...preparation. The pain shall strengthen you." The sparking tendrils on his fingertips only grew, until finally, he unleashed the storm onto the awaiting Hapan. "Hold nothing back, pretty Jedi. I want your master to feel this. We have time, let's not waste it." He chuckled, greatly entertained by the girl's stubborn refusal to scream. She held a degree of resilience, given her somewhat dainty appearance. Beneath the beauty was tenacity; something which he would enjoy breaking, almost as much as he would enjoy savour Valen's own suffering.

@Valen Pelora

 

[Valen Pelora]

A rickety fighter burst from hyperspace, slowly gliding towards a boiling planet. From space, the planet appeared a grey ball in constant flux. A keen eye could catch dark strange lightning streaking across the sky.

Jedi Knight Valen Pelora tightly gripped the yoke of the borrowed fighter. He had not slept since Sigal had been taken. The tracking placed on the Sith’s ship had led him here, a planet that was a legend. Malachor. He had read countless tales of the horrors of Malachor. The storm torn world was a haven of the Darkside. The aura was unlike anything he had ever felt. The Darkside was clawing at him, clutching for his soul. Malachor was one of the few planets capable of matching Korriban’s feeling in the Force. It was a uniquely disturbing feeling. Malachor hadn’t always been stained by the Darkside. Years of dark rituals, and Sith sorcery had manipulated the planet. Perverted Malachor into what it was.

He feared why the Sith would bring Sigal here. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly why. Malachor was the site of untold power in the Darkside. The archives suggested if a Sith was powerful enough they could corrupt even the purest Jedi. The Sith only needed one Jedi to fall, and the secrets of the Army would be theirs. He knew why they wanted Sigal. He had to get to her in time, had to save her. He would not watch his student twisted into something she wasn’t.

Valen was still locked onto the Sith’s location. The ship was on the surface, near the northern hemisphere. He needed to land close, but try not to alert the Sith to his location. It would be easy to hide his Force signature. Malachor’s aura would wash away any trace of the Light. He pulled the Force in close around him, his light would be easily lost. He piloted the ship through the atmosphere. He slowly landed on an outcropping a fair distance from the Sith’s ship. He was fairly certain he had escaped notice.

Taking a deep breath he quickly excited the ship. He was still fully armored, ready for war. The stench of the Darkside washed over him. Pulsing all around him. Something felt different here. The Darkside was stronger. He could feel it pulling at him, pulling him towards something. He needed to act quickly. He knew he was running out of time. Whatever was near them was ancient, and powerful. A true artifact of the Dark. He had seen some terrible things in his life. He had hoped to never face what awaited him. The heart of darkness was not challenged easily. The weary Jedi Knight trudged on.

@Esther Nyx

 

[Pam0wl]

Sigal had never known such tangible pain; to say her torment was an expert proprietor in torture was an understatement. He had the hideous act mastered like a sadistic art form. With little effort, he could contort her body and twist her mind with agonising precision. The travel to Malachor had been brief but to Sigal every second passed with gruelling delay of a day. The horned headed fiend endeavoured to weaken the Hapan, withholding sustenance and sleep to make her more placate. Any defiance still left in her was met with swift, insensible pain. He took exceptional delights in assaulting Sigal's fortified mind. With each barrage of cognitive venom, Sigal grew more desperate to shelter herself. At first, when the torture began, he was merely searching for cracks in her resolves. When he failed to them, he merely settled for creating those cracks himself. The girl, much to his delight, was only a mere novice to pain and its devilish kiss.
Yet, against his seemingly bestial nature, the Zabrak managed to restrain his heavy hands. Though bruised and discoloured, no permanent damage had been dealt. He neither had the time nor the patience to heal broken bones and fractured but the Hapan was certainly stubborn. He almost admired it, if her defiance wasn't so vexing. Nonetheless, he had broken more challenging victims. If given a few more days, the girl would have surely buckled. But upon landing on Malachor's surface, it would make no difference. The dark taint of the altar's nexus would finish what the Zabrak started.

Sigal's first exposure to Malachor's surface nearly robbed her of breath. It was a dark, depraved wasteland, devoid of life and light; here existed a terrible evil, harbouring corruption so soul that only death and suffering thrived within its abnormal embrace. Already dark tendrils attempted to worm their way into her mind, piercing at her heart until immobilising fear took root. She could taste the sorrow and pain in the air like vile acid on her tongue. Sigal had never been so terrified; and the Sith only mocked her. "That's it. Drink it in." He look a savouring exhale, his chest rumbling with satisfaction, like a wayward son returned home. In a perverted pilgrimage, the pair marched across the barren ground until a looming shadow engulfed them; amongst the ruins of old structures, an indomitable temple stood high above all other structures. The Sith grinned at the sight of it and hasted their pace. With her hands bound, Sigal staggered and stumbled amongst the cracked, rocky contours. The Zabrak merely chuckled at her struggles and righted her with his strong grip. When the pain riddling one of her legs became too great to bare, he was merely content with dragging her -rather unceremoniously- into the deviant confines of the temple. Before them, an alter stood, carved out of the mangled stone; images of horror and agony were etched into its form. It was a nest of repulsive energy. The air was thick and pungent, heavy with decay and ancient spite. The Sith left Sigal momentarily placed on the ground, his attentions focused on the altar. He seemed to be ready some sort of ritual, lighting odious incense with fanatic precision. He was no stranger to this place. The tattoos littering his red skin were eerily reminiscent of the markings adorning the temple.

For the first time since her forced arrival, Sigal found her voice, tremoring as it was, "What is this place?"

"The end. And the beginning."

"Of what?"

He finally looked back at her, savage delight burning in his amber eyes, "You."

In a heart stopping moment, realisation harrowingly dawned. Shaking her head, Sigal attempt to retreat as the sith once more advanced, "I will not fall."

Her statement was only met with derision. With little effort, the Sith dragged her once more towards the altar, "Such pride. Such arrogance. I am surprised the Jedi have allowed such hubris to fester within you. Such carelessness will cost them dearly." He threw his arms up in worship, eyes riveted on the shrive surrounding them before once more becoming fixed on Sigal. "Here even the purest have become tainted. And you are far from pure. Beneath your finery and beauty, there is an ugliness so foul not even your master can save you from." When she didn't even had the strength to deny him, he continued, watching as the wafting incense filled the chamber. With each passing moment, his grin grew more frightening and unhinged, "Imagine his disappointment. His despair. His own student, one he held in such high esteem, consumed and ravaged by the dark side. The light may empower but here and now it shall be his undoing." He let out a below of laughter, utterly thrilled with the thought. Truth be told, since his brief meeting with Valen, the Sith had developed an unhealthy fixation. The Hapan's light burned bright but Valen's was like a blinding beacon in surrounding blackness. To corrupt a person of such standing, it would truly be a crowning conquest.

Sigal must have caught onto the Zabrak's musing. She glared spitefully at him as she struggled against her bindings. "This was never about me..."

"Clever girl." He gave an acknowledging bow, kneeling so that his gaze was in level with her own. "No, this is not entirely about you. You are just a tool. Oh, do not mistake me, you shall be useful but still, a tool none the less. Whether in the breaking of your master or the forging of the Brotherhood's victory, it makes no difference. You shall serve us well." When Sigal's struggles renewed, the sith struck her, clearing becoming unimpressed. "Don't fight it. Just give in."

Sigal felt her body grow heavy; her senses hazy and unfocused. The incense. Its ritualised formula acting as a final pacifier for any thought of resistance. Unprepared, Sigal didn't stand a fighting chance. Her defiance, her stubbornness, her pride, it only starved the sickness off for so long. The darkness incarnate came in battering waves, each hit wearing her down, eroding part of the Hapan away until weakness slowly set in. Sigal let out a pained scream, its pitch echoing throughout the temple's walls. It was like being torn apart piece by piece; dark, unseen talons dug themselves savagely into her, unwilling to let go. Her mental walls crumbled. Vile images and visions flashed before her in an overwhelming flood; every fear she suffered, every episode of anger tormented her. When she valiantly attempted to fend off the incessant torture, her body became riddled with pain in punishment. Blood boiling, muscles tearing, nerves electrified. It was a vicious cycle repeatedly continued until finally Sigal stopped struggling; either she bent or she'd completely break. Valen...I'm sorry. Please...please...help me. The agony was growing too great; she was drowning in it. Darkness all around, enrapturing her, ensnaring her within its clutches until all that remained was shadows and blackness. The cries finally died with her resistance. The light was finally snuffed out.

When Sigal's eyes opened once more, they blazed of hellfire.

@Valen Pelora

 

[Valen Pelora]

White robes flapped in the wind as an embattled Jedi Knight crested a hill. Valen surrounded himself with the Lightside, pouring his soul into the Force. Malachor battered at his defenses. The whispers of the dead crept closer to his mind. It took all his strength to push the voices away. The Darkside was stronger here than he ever expected. The longer he was on the surface the stronger the voices became. Dead, old Sith, praying on the self-doubt of a younger man. There was plenty for them to find. He was near the edge when the slavers had taken Sigal. The war had pushed him, changed who he was. His faith had been shaken. Valen was trying to get it back, trying to find himself. All he saw was the faces of the dead. The men he had killed. The soldiers he had sent to their deaths. The people he had failed to save. It was their voices he heard, voices of his failures.

He wrapped himself tighter in the Lightside. Desperately trying to banish the Dark. Once, his faith had been unwavering. His sense of self rooted in the Force. He had known who he was. He had known his destiny. That man was dead. Valen Pelora, Jedi Knight, who had arrived on Argazda had never taken a life. He had never fought a Sith. He had never watched women, and children die. The man who walked the surface of Malachor had fought, maimed, and killed. His emerald green blade had cut through the flesh of his adversaries. He had felt life leave the Force as he rammed the blade home. The dead flashed before him. He did not want to be that man. He wanted to be the healer, the diplomat, the good Jedi. He wanted to be the soul of Army, to keep them on the path. He couldn’t be that man anymore. That man wouldn’t be able to save Sigal, and that was all that mattered.

Sigal had been a petulant, uncaring, unremorseful teenager. He had questioned if he would ever get through to her. That had changed. She was becoming a respectable and skilled Jedi. She was holding him together. Coruscant, and Mustafar had taken an unknowable tole on the Hapan’s master. He had needed her. He had promised to keep her safe. He had failed. He had to make it right. The man he had become could make it right, would make it right. He would save his student and put down the monster that had taken her.

The weary warrior continued his walk. The whispers grew louder, he drank deeper of the Lightside. He could sense the Darkside building. The Force guiding his feet. Suddenly, the Force shifted. A great nexus of the Darkside was gathering and being pulled together. Valen started to run. The Darkness was spilling across the planet. He pushed his legs, fueling his body with the Force. He saw the Temple in the distance. He could feel the aura pouring out. He could feel Sigal’s pain in the Force. He was close. Just a little farther. He burst into Temple. Valen’s eyes immediately snapped to the Sith, his Lightsaber springing to life. He didn’t notice Sigal’s pain had stopped, or the Darkside aura had changed.

@Esther Nyx

 

[Pam0wl]

The sith barely managed to contain his bubbling euphoria, his grin growing more deluded with each passing moment; Valen's aura was now unmistakable, it was like a lonely star blazing in a void of blackness. The dark side rumbled with displeasure, the temple's perverted sanctity threatened by the presence of light. It sought to extinguish it, just as it had done with the Hapan. The sith practically tittered at the sight of Valen's seemingly heroic arrival, his fists clenching and unclenching in loosening control. It was like two sides of a coin; one with a malevolent smile, the other with a beastly grin. "Ah, Master Jedi. So good of you to finally join us." Yet the Zabrak took a reluctant step back, turning his attention to the young woman standing beside him. Sigal. But it was not the same Sigal Valen knew. She stood there, impassive, seemingly unaware of the world around her for the moment. She didn't even react when the Zabrak laced his fingers through her golden curls. Her expression was just vacant and empty. But her eyes. Her once vibrant amethyst eyes were now a sick, pale amber.

As soon as Sigal's sight focused on Valen, her expression twisted into an ugly, enraged scowl. Her lovely features were tainted and warped with rage; the force itself -sickened with affliction- pulsed like an unhealthy vortex, waves rolling and colliding as the angered storm within the Hapan grew. She no longer saw her master standing before her, her mentor and friend. Instead, all she saw was an enemy. "You..." She hissed, her voice barely recognisable. "This is all...your fault." Her hands trembled with barely contained rage. A red haze was slowly dripping over her vision. The voices had whispered terrible things to her, had twisted the truth into ugly lies. "Everything is your fault!"

The sith merely grinned at Valen, seeming utterly thrilled with the girl's transformation. The longer she remained within the dark side's thrilled, the more tainted she would become. Soon, there would be no hope of redemption. Gnashing his teeth as his slipped his saber in Sigal's grasp, he jeered with jerk of his chin. "Kill him..."

Without hesitation, the Hapan launched herself at the Mirialan. There was no restraint, it was just a sheer barrage of slashes and jabs; her precise Makashi empowered with frightening force. All of Sigal's usual reluctance and preservation instincts were gone, replaced only with maddening thirst for violence and savagery. Lurking on the boundaries of the side, the sith watched with devious delight. The Hapan was proving to be quite a vicious creature, like a rabid nexu attacking a steadfast reek. The jedi had but few options; he could either retaliate and injure his beloved student, or he could hold back and be cut down by the young harpy. Whatever the outcome, it mattered not. The dark side shall choose a champion, a victor to become its vessel. Only the death would secure the dark side's favour.

Yet has blows rained down on Valen, even as Sigal's eyes blazed with hatred and spite, her expression looked pained. Flashes of agony seemed to worm their way across her features. With each clash of sabers, Sigal looked tormented. Inside, she was waging her own fight, desperately railing against the invading darkness. But it was too strong, its hold on her reaching too deep. All she could see was darkness around her; it was like being forced into a corner with no way of escape. Like drowning in a bottomless pit.

Valen...please...I can't...I can't fight this...Not alone...

@Valen Pelora

 

[Valen Pelora]

Valen’s eyes were locked on the Sith. His knuckles were white around his Lightsaber, the blade humming near his side. The Lightside roared through his body. Anxiety, fear, trepidation, all melted away. He was ready. His life had been driving towards this moment. He would face down the hulking Sith. He would leave Malachor with Sigal. The strength of the Darkside did not matter. The strength of the Sith did not matter. All that mattered was what stood between Valen and his student. His heart hardened, the Sith would die. He matched the Sith’s steps, eyes locked. He balked when he saw Sigal. When he saw the Sith touch Sigal.

He was shaken from his singular focus. A horrible realization dawned. The Darkside pulsed from the Alter, filling the room. The Sith was not the only tainted aura. Sigal. No. An icy hand gripped his heart, squeezing. The breath left his lungs. It felt like he had been punched in the chest. Darkness poured from the Alter into the young Hapan. He could feel the unnatural connection. It was corrupting his student, poising her body and mind. He had to break the connection. He had to free Sigal before the change was permanent.

Valen reached out in the Force. If he broke the connection fast enough they could fight the Sith together, as it should be. He wasn’t given the chance. The twisted Darkside version of Sigal rushed at him. She dutifully followed the commands of the bestial Sith. He cringed at the hatred painted across Sigal’s face. Her beautiful features were twisted by unknowable rage. His heart sank. He didn’t know what to do. Valen barely managed to raise his blade to deflect Sigal’s incoming attacks. Reflexively, his feet shifted. He was the superior duelist, but he could not match his student’s anger. He couldn’t fight Sigal. He just couldn’t.

He raised his blade only in defense. He paired, he blocked, he stepped back. He did not counter attack. He knew this wasn’t Sigal, he couldn’t hurt his student. He had to find a way to break her free. Fear was creeping up his spine. He felt lost. Frantically blocking Sigal’s hate filled attacks. He was getting pushed closer to the stone wall. He tentatively reached out in the Force. Sigal was in there somewhere, they could break this. Together.

“Sigal, this isn’t you. This isn’t who you are.” He gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his brow. “Remember the children on Ryloth, Coruscant, Shimia, all the we saved. You saved them. You helped them. I know you are in there. You have to fight this. I can’t do this alone.”

He continued to parry. Desperately trying to keep his student at bay.

@Esther Nyx

 

[Pam0wl]

Sigal let out a deafening screech, its pitch resonating throughout the force. Cracks erupted within the temple's structure yet the foundation remained tentatively stable. Valen's words seemed to have struck a nerve yet her enraged barrage were momentarily halted - though the hostile stance remained. Her grip on the saber tightened as she gnashed her teeth in a laborious sneer. "How dare you speak to me...as if we are equals. Filthy male. Wretched alien!" Though her tone retained its hateful potency, her attack seemed held off by an unseen force. But with each passing second, the struggle grew more fruitless. The more she tried to fight the encroaching darkness, the deeper its claws sank into her, prying whatever insecurity or flaw it could find. Her zionist bigotry and sexist misgivings. The prideful anger and grieving pain. The dark side fed on it like a rotten carcase. Everything Sigal had bottle up and buried was now surfacing with vengeance.

Her shaking hand rose, her fingers zapping with weak electricity. "Those brats...I never cared about them."

No...that's not true...

"I never cared about you" The lightning gathering in her palm became more pronounced. "I hate you!"

Don't listen...It's a lie...You are...my friend.

Sigal's hand blistered under the intensity of the lightning she was trying to generate. She was unskilled in the diabolical attack, unable to properly control it and protect herself from it. She let out a pained cry, the lightning lashing out in a sporadic motion, undirected without any real target. She hissed in apparent agony, flexing her burnt hand as it still crackled with a charge. Her frustration turned into another force imbued scream, acting as a battle cry when charged for Valen once more, the saber slashing and thrusting until it met flesh. All the while, the sith Zabrak watched the scene unfold, undecided in his views. The Hapan was certainly powerful, none could contest that. To be able to generate lightning, even at this early stage, was truly a testament to the altar's power. But in her emotional state, she had lost all the control and discipline she previously indulged in. It was making her sloppy, her attack easily predictable and countered. Yet the Jedi was reacting exactly how he had expected, unable to do anything but defend himself. He chuckled at the irony. The Mirialan now had to defend himself from the very one he tried to protect. His death would act as the Hapan's anointment to the Sith. How the Jedi would weep and mourn the loss of their own. One to death and the other to the Dark Side. But the battle was growing tedious. Valen's words irked the Sith just as much as they did Sigal; best to finish this as soon as possible, least the balance become unfavourably shifted.

"Stop wasting time, girl. Finish him!"

Like beautiful, horrifying spectre, Sigal loomed like death incarnate. The crimson saber had struck and clashed with Valen's multiple times, attempting to tire him out and shatter his defences. In a conniving move, she lashed out, a jarring kick connecting with the joint of Valen's knee. It was enough to bring him down, if only for a moment. But that was all she needed. Saber raised high in the air, Sigal seemed ready to deliver a killing blow.

But the blade fell short, halting in mid air by an unseen force. Expression twisted in struggle, Sigal's whole body shook with restraint. "Why..." she hissed, glaring down at Valen, a stray tear rolling down her cheek as her yellow eyed gaze momentarily faltered with fading conviction. "Why...can't I...kill you?"
Within her mind, within her very soul, Sigal fought desperately. She clawed and raved, battering the darkness back. It came at her in waves, overcoming frowning her at first. The more resistance she posed, the greater the dark invasion returned. All seemed hopeless. The fight futile to continue; defeat seemed assured. No...it can't end like this...I won't let it...win...

With the last of her inner strength, Sigal reached out through the force, searching for some sort of power to lend itself to her struggle. She pictured those Valen had mentioned, the ones she had helped during campaigns and missions. The good deeds she had done, droplets added to the sea of the galaxy's living existence. Each memory, each reminiscent feeling starved off the darkness for a few more precious moments. Not even the corrosive corruption of the altar could tarnish the sanctity of her heroics. She wouldn't allow them sullied and defiled. They were proof, evidence of her good nature, the very nature Valen had believed in and natured from the start. How can I harm him? He who has supported me...mentored me...When everyone else was ready to turn their backs, he stepped forward...and showed me the light...

"Valen..." She whispered, so softly that it was barely even heard, "The light..." show me the light....

@Valen Pelora

 

[Valen Pelora]

Valen pushed Sigal’s insults aside. This was not her, it was the monster. The hate and anger that radiated from Sigal slammed against him. Rage battered his defenses. He barely kept her at bay, his heart was breaking. He could not hurt his student. He cared for her too deeply. He would not take the chance one errant Lightsaber strike might harm her. He knew Sigal was in there, fighting back. He knew he was being assaulted by a twisted Darkside manifestation. If he tried to defeat the Darkness he would only harm Sigal. He simply could not do it. The realization struck him like a hammer blow. He would rather die than fight back. Valen could not keep fighting. The Sith had won. His defenses would not hold forever, Sigal would kill him, and the Darkside would consume her. The transformation would be complete.

He kept parrying, deflecting blows, and moving backward. He could sense the Darkness building within Sigal. He caught the Lightning from the corner of his eye. She couldn’t complete the Darkside manifestation. There was still some small hope. The Force screams battered his mind. He reflexively threw the Lightside around his body. The screams shuddered off the Force shield. The Force hummed as the Lightside smashed against the Dark. He was barely holding on. His will to fight slowly fading. Then it happened. Valen’s guard slipped. The twisted Darkside shade of Sigal reacted. Her foot hit his knee, his leg buckled. He could have lashed out with his Saber, hacking towards the Hapan’s chest. He wouldn’t. He fell to one knee and locked eyes with his student. Her Lightsaber was raised to cut him down. He closed his eyes, accepting the inevitable.

It never came. Sigal could not kill him. The truth inside the young Jedi was fighting back. He felt it, small and smothered by the Darkness. It was there, Sigal was there. She needed a lifeline. She need help. He heard his name. His head snapped up, his eyes locked with Sigal. He knew what to do it. He did not hesitate, the Force was guiding him. The Lightside was with him. He rushed forward, placing his hand on Sigal’s forehead. The Lightside burst from his, ripping through every pore in his body. He was a conduit for the Light, the Force pouring into Sigal. He reached deep into the young Jedi’s soul, throwing her a lifeline. A rope to pull herself out from the Dark. He prayed. He prayed for Sigal to seize the Light. Together they would burn away the Darkness festering in her soul. Together they would sever the link to the dark alter. Together they would defeat the Sith, and purify this place. He threw himself into the Force. He let the Light burst forward. He called Sigal to the surface.

“Fight. Back. Remember, who you are!” He started into her eyes, praying she would come back to him.

@Esther Nyx

 

[Pam0wl]

Despite Sigal's free hand latching itself onto Valen's wrist, the Hapan went utterly rigid within his grasp. Every muscle within her seems tensed, coiled ready to spring and lash out once more. But she didn't move; even her callous words fell silent and unuttered. For a moment, it seemed as if time had frozen itself, entrapping the two in a state of unease. Sigal's eyes still blazed like raging infernos, but now they were unfocused and distant. Though she was painfully aware of her surroundings, of Valen's hand, her mind seemed vacant and withdrawn. The physical fight was seeming abandoned for the time being; in its place, a conflict of spirit bloomed.

The dark entity afflicting Sigal recoiled at the jedi's intrusion, offended by the very gall of the green skinned master. His attack was unexpected; the dark side incarnate had focused so savagely on breaking the Hapan's defences, it did not seem to consider anything else a threat. Such misplaced arrogance served Valen well. For but a brief moment, the siege of darkness within Sigal's mind had been halted, stifled, even if only for a moment. But it was all Sigal needed; in the black abyss, Valen's force presence acted like a shining beckon, radiating itself in defiant righteousness. The Hapan's inner self clambered out to grasp at it, almost as if she were reaching for the sun. This was her last hope; her last chance at redemption. If it failed, she would be lost to the darkness. Forever.

Understandably, the void of the dark side raved at such defiance; it would not surrender its new host easily. It sought to tear Valen asunder, such as it had done with Sigal. Just one precise strike and it would begin to poison Valen too. Yet Sigal reached out, banishing the darkness further back. Once more, her fortified walls rose and solidified. Valen's light strengthened her, empowered her. With each moment she strength and will to fight returned anew. With each shove, each mental blow, the black plague was losing its foothold within her. But the cleansing was a searing experience for Sigal; the pure light of the force seemed to purge its way through her very essence. It was like being reborn. Invigorating, but utterly terrifying. Not an experience she would like to repeat ever again.

It seemed like an eternity before the darkness finally, reluctantly, relinquished its hold on the Hapan. With animalistic intent, it retreated back into the bowels of the temple, biding its time. The two jedi together proved to be compelling prey; they would need to be weakened first before succumbing.

Free of the foul affliction, Sigal's returning strength faltered. Her knees buckled as she fell to the floor, feeling utterly drained and robbed. She was free. But it had been an arduous battle. She struggled to maintain herself, unwilling to yield to fatigue. She sought some sort of comfort, wherever she could find. Almost instinctively, she reached out, searching for her saviour. Her master. Her friend. "Valen..." Never had her voice sounded weaker, barely a whisper. She seemed almost fragile. A stark contrast to the Hapan's usual fearsomeness. But one look into her violet eyes confirmed it, Sigal was once more her own.

From the far side of the jagged stone temple, the Zabrak eyed the recent develop with growing discontent. He stepped forward, shaking his fist in growing rage. "What are you waiting for, girl? Kill him! Strike him down!"

@Valen Pelora

 

[Valen Pelora]

Valen felt the darkness burned from Sigal. He felt the insidious black retreat at the burning heat of the Light. He felt Sigal return to him. A massive wave of relief washed over him. The tight pain in his chest dissipated as he looked down at the Hapan. He saw her fierce eyes instead of corrupted blackness. He had never been so happy to see those eyes in his life. He had thought he had lost her, consumed by the Darkside. He had feared there was nothing he could do. He had feared this was the end of it all. By a miracle of the Light they had defeated the Darkness. Together.

Sigal was on the floor. Valen could sense the weakness in her but it was her. Fighting the Darkness had taken a tremendous toll on the young Jedi. It was time to end this. He put a hand on his students check. He looked into her eyes but didn’t speak, he didn’t need to. His intent was clear. He would protect her. The shrill command of the Sith broke through the air. Valen scowled and stood. The Force filled his body. The Lightside pouring from the Jedi. His emerald green Lightsaber was alive in his hand. He took two steps between the Sith and Sigal. The creature would not harm his student again.

“This. Is. Over.”

The Sith looked shocked as Valen stepped towards him. A brief look of fear crossed the bestial Zabrak’s face. He brought the ruby red Lightsaber in a defensive position.

“H-how. The ritual is unbreakable.”

“The Light will always burn out the Dark.” He stepped towards the Sith. “Your time is over Sith.” The Zabrak would not leave Malachor. Valen charged. His Lightsaber crashed against the Sith’s blade as sparks flew. The Lightside roared through him, filling the ruined Temple. Green and red crashed. The Sith was going to die.

@Esther Nyx