RPlog:Ritual of Darkness

Part 1

Massassi Temple -- Jungle Wilderness Stepping into the cool confines of the temple, you are immediately thrust back to the days of the Massassi. Diffused orange light trickles down through narrow, slanted skylights, giving the entire Grand Audience Chamber a mystical hue. Non-reflective, smokey grey flagstone walls have shifted slightly with the passage of time but seem in remarkably good shape. There is an unusual smell of mustiness in the enclosed air.. almost as if you could smell the crumbling effects of the ancient stones. Lush, green vines have found their way in through small cracks in the outer structure, cobwebbing the walls with a lattice of living embellishment. Slatted stones of various greens and vermillion highlight the dull color scheme. A break in the roof has allowed a single stream of sunlight to infiltrate the chamber near the front of the expansive room, giving that area an almost enchanted, spotlighted glow. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Mailyn => Mira => Lucky => Jarin => Markus => Simon -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-outh leads to Temple Steps -- Jungle Wilderness.

The white haired man nods his head, a faint smile appearing on his lips. Yes, they were arrows indeed. They had been let loose and now it was all a matter of finding the target. For them, there was really not a way to go back.

The Force, the True Source to Markus they were both the same. To Markus it was both a curse and a blessing. But whatever it was he now will turn things around. He was the arrow, but the path to his target was his to choose and it had been chosen.

Markus simply watches Jarin. Not long ago, he was a Jedi himself. Not long ago he had followed Skywalker, although Skywalker had in the end betrayed him. Or so Markus felt.

"Your friends," Markus says calmly. If Simon is playing the bad cop, Markus is now the good cop. He walks towards Jarin and kneels in front of him, reaching to touch the other's face with a hand. "Would friends abandon you, like they have done with you? Would friends put their cause before their... friends. I, was a Jedi. I, thought they were my friends too... But where were they when my ship crashed and I reached out in the... so called Force for their help? Where were they when I lost my ability to touch... the Force?" Markus shakes his head, sighing softly. "They are not your friends. They did use you. Skywalker wants to impose his will over the Jedi. I was alone, and only in true friendship," he pauses, looking at Simon, "in true brodtherhood did I found myself," he pauses, extending a hand towards Jarin. "There is still time for you to face the truth. See the Jedi for what they are. Say that you will take my hand, accept truly the truth of it all. Say it."

Squatting near the duo of adults, was the thin scrawny figure of the boy commonly known as Lucky. The young boy scruffs his feet into the ground as he wipes his face with the back of his face, leaving an oily streak across it. His voice, was slightly high pitched as though it has not broke yet as he goes, "Aw...just shaddup already..will ya? Ah ain't seen none of dem frens ya call here fer ya, ain't it ? Yer frens? Ah think dey just left ya ta die." Gesturing towards Simon and Markus, Lucky continues, "See dem here? Dey more of ya frens if ya git me drift, at least dey here with ya." The young boy managed a lavacious grin, not rather pleasant-looking, towards Jarin as he shuffles back to allow Markus to do his stuff. One hand curled loosely around the blaster in his hands as he fiddles with the controls.

Having partially hoisted Jarin up, Simon uses his leg to push the young Jedi student's legs underneath him so that he wouldn't fall when released. Simon watches Markus as he speaks to the young man. A muscle in Simon's cheek twitches as he hears the words, hearing the offer. Then Lucky speaks in support of Markus's words, and Simon shakes his head. For them to do what they had to do, they would need the blood of a Jedi. Probably all of it... that wasn't precisely clear in what they'd managed to intuit. If Jarin accepted what Markus was saying...

With only a moment's hesitation, Simon slips the knot loose and removes the binding holding Jarin's hands behind his back. Tossing the cord to Lucky, Simon says to Jarin as he takes two steps back, "Take his hand, if you wish. Renounce the Jedi." They needed the blood of a Jedi, but if Jarin turned, then they would need someone else. Their quest was poised on the edge of a knife.

As his hands come free, Jarin feels the blood flow return to them, giving a stinging sensation for a few moments. He looks towards Simon, and then towards Markus' hand. He pauses for a moment, taking a deep swallow as an involuntary tremble runs through his body... take the hand and he could easily live. As he thinks of the offer, his eyes fall down onto the young boy near Markus... and Jarin feels sick and dizzy all at once... seeing himself as that boy... not much different to how he was before he had met the Jedi. He sees dirty unkept youth, and he sees himself in that place all too easily.

His mind wanders now, realizing that far more is at stake here than simply his own life or death. "Y-you say the Jedi have used me..." He thinks of that concept, but other thoughts quickly banish it; Mira's carefree but kind personality, Jessalyn's warm and patience in his own teaching, Aurejin's stern but not unkind lessons, Harlock's tempered knowledge, and even Keladry's sense of duty to help those in need. Those thoughts alone dismiss any sense of ill will from the Jedi; those he had taken as his friends and his family.

Standing up straighter now, and taking in a breath, much of the fear that eminated from Jarin disappears, and he speaks in a soft voice, but one that does hold strength, "The Jedi are my friends. They would never use me. And they will come for me. I have seen the truth, and you speak only lies you fly-ridden tuskan-smelling pile of bantha fodder!" With that, Jarin spits onto the offered hand, and then takes in another breath, "I'll never join you."

Markus sighs, shaking his head, appering truly sad at the events. "I thought as much," he states, standing up and turning away from Jarin. Then all of the sudden, Markus is a blur of movement. He reaches into the True Source using his own anger at the Jedi to fuel himself. He extends a hand and through the True Source raises Jarin's body up in the air.

He holds it there, his sightless eye sockets fixed on Jarin. "Then, you will die like your friends. Know this, /Jedi/," Markus spits the word. "Your death, is your own doing. I am blind and yet, I see more than you will ever be. Your life, your decision," Markus states, and pushes Jarin forcefully back against a tree nearby. He holds him there for a moment, still pushing as to make sure he's causing pain on the other and then lets him drop, bringing down his hand in the process. "We can tie his hands again," Markus offers, tilting his head towards Simon. "Now, we know for sure that he /is/ a Jedi." So now, they would have for sure, the blood of a Jedi.

The young boy reaches out with a thin hand to catch the cord of rope that comes his way. Twining it around his small hands, he straightens up for a moment. His expression was impassive as he watches the whole scene. Something he had learnt throughout this entire journey is that you don't mess with Simon, much less with Markus when they're making these important decision. Though..the harsh reality of it does affect the young boy somewhat as it oftens, averting his face slightly so that he could avoid the inevitable that was to come. Though a certain sense of persevation forces the young boy to keep half a glance on the scene itself.

Jarin feels more than anything the massive force that drives him back, and the impact against the tree brings him dizzy now, his consciousness threatening to leave him at any moment now. Through the pain and torment of it all, he can't help but smile, even as he sees in the Force the growing darkness that had sought to claim him pull away in the same moment it strikes him. Closing his eyes a half second before Markus drops him, he projects out towards the Jedi, those he had grown close to in the past months, speaking only two words for them all. -I'm sorry.-

A moment later, the youth falls to the earth, finally drifting into unconsciousness at the impact, with words imbedded deep into his mind... he had not fallen, and he had held true to everything that had been taught to him. Those thoughts comfort him even as he drifts into the sweet escape of sleep once again.

The rage and power of Markus Lisardis was dizzying. The bond that was forged between Simon and the former Jedi was still strong, and some of that intoxicating anger drifted across the bond into Simon's mind. His muscles tense, his hands clench into fists, white knuckled and quivering from being held in check. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to find all of those foolish people on all the worlds that had been fooled by the Jedi and break their foolish, arrogant necks. He wanted to find one of Orson Tighe's old pieces of artwork and smash it on the ground. He wanted to destroy something beautiful, and raise his voice in a song that was really a scream.

As Jarin slams hard, then slips once more into unconsciousness, the spell on Simon subsides, and he draws a deep, calming breath. It was not time for Jarin to die yet. That would come later, just before the end.

Swallowing, Simon licks moisture back into his lips and says, "Lucky, tie the Jedi's hands behind his back. We will need to ascend the temple soon, with or without Harlock. The Jedi will be here, soon."

Simon pauses a heartbeat, cocking his head to one side. He says then, in a hushed voice, "No. They are already here. Already here."

The young boy heeds Simon's advice as he lopes over towards the fallen Jedi student, his nose wrinkling slightly as he gently uses one foot to turn the man around. Kneeling down, Lucky proceeds to lope the rope around his hands as tightly as possible. Glancing sharply up at Simon's words, the boy slides the small blaster into his hands. He proceeds to straddle Jarin, placing the blaster at his cheekbone while his bright green eyes gaze steadily around the area. Lucky's hands were slightly unsteady, as though an accidental jerk might sent the blast right through the man's cheekbones.

It was said sometimes that some Jedi could "walk on light," making no noise at all and not revealing their presence unless it was by choice. Jessalyn Valios possessed this particular grace and skill almost instinctively; it was something that barely had to be taught to her as she grew stronger in her knowledge of the Force. It invigorated the body and spirit alike; it was an infusion not just of power, but of compassion and vision.

This time she had chosen not to reveal her presence just yet, though it was imperative to make her way swiftly toward the disturbance in the Force that was Jarin's agony. The veil lifts before she is visible, though, and Simon became aware of the Jedi's presence.

But the scene unfolding before her is almost physically jarring. Maintaining her sense of calm, and approaching with a slow and authoritative gait, her boots crunch through the underbrush. "Surrender the innocent one, Simon," she calls out, her voice both gentle and rational.

There was no more time for delays. With his head turned in Jessalyn's direction, Simon's eyes stay fixed on Markus. There was no time. There was no turning back. Arrows, sent for different targets on the same beast. Feeling Markus's loathing of the Jedi Witch, the anger and hatred resonating with the mottled emotions he himself felt for the woman, Simon raises his right hand, gesturing toward Jarin's unconscious form. He draws upon the True Source, reaching out to pick up the unconscious Jedi. The muscles in his legs begin to tense with what is to come.

"Brother," Simon says, touching Markus's shoulder lightly with his left hand. Jarin's body, hanging limply as it is pulled toward Simon's outstretched hand, was like a puppet being drawn toward its master by invisible strings. Simon continues, "Keep her down here. Do whatever you have to, but she must not follow me to the top."

Jarin's body is caught then, and Simon takes a staggering step backwards with the weight of it. Bending his knees deeply, Simon calls out, "Lucky! Shoot to kill!"

And with that, Simon leaps. Drawing upon the True Source, he is the image of a fallen angel, ascending once more toward heaven. The brilliant light of the Yavin sun surrounds him, he a black shadow rising as if to be consumed by the light. Like that fallen angel, stricken and cast out of heaven, Simon's ascent falters, and once more, he is descending. His feet find purchase on the side of the temple. He groans and strains under the weight of Jarin. And then he begins to climb.

Whatever ability Jessalyn had to "walk on light", Mira didn't possess it naturally and she hadn't yet learned it. She had, however, done her best to mimic and learn from the elder Jedi during the arduous walk through the forest, allowing the True Source to guide her footsteps so they avoid the most noisy twigs in the jungle, which she seemed to have a natural affinity for finding. As such, Mira makes her way through the trees like a noisy bobcat, instead a thundering rhinoscerus.

In allowing the Force to guide her, it also speaks to her, weaving a tale of their captured friend near the temple ahead. Had Jarin not gotten captured, Mira would have rejected Simon's gracious invitation to Yavin. But now their friend was ensnared by the dark and, unlike his captors, wanted her help in escaping it.

Jessalyn's longer legs had gotten her to the temple first, while Mira still lingered in the thickness of the jungle. As the words, "Lucky! Shoot to kill!" ring through the foliage, the student hastens her step, dropping her hand to draw her lightsaber from her belt.

The time was approaching. Atop the Massassi Temple in which he was originally afflicted, Harlock is meditating. Half sitting and half kneeling, he is upright with his knees on the ground and weight on the balls of his feet. As the presence of Simon grows closer and closer he slowly opens his eyes. They focus down on his reclaimed lightsaber, which rests before him, before he draws it to his hand. The man stands up and hooks it onto his belt.

Already, the man's face has returned to normal and his health is back at full. He shows himself at the edge of the top plateau, facing the direction of Simon. Harlock simply stares forward at the man, his arms resting at his sides. "Your own hatred clouds your thoughts and perception of the world around you. You are becoming no better than those who wiped my kind out and those who aided them. I ask you to release Jarin."

Lucky slips off Jarin as Simon summons the man to himself. Clutching tightly to the palm blaster with white-knuckled hands, Lucky peers towards the foliage at the incoming Jedi women. They were evil. Simon and Markus had said so. They were the spawns of the darkness, the mistresses of the sith. The very people who had caused him to lose his parents. Shoot to kill. Bathan Dung. This is something that Lucky had come to expect as the situation grows worse. Though, with the pea shooter that he has in his hands right now, shooting to kill might prove very well quite difficult unless it was in close range. Simply raising his hands, Lucky sends several rapid shots in the direction of the Jedi, hoping to provide the distraction for Simon to do whatever is necessary.

A flickering glance is offered Markus by Jessalyn's green eyes when he makes note of her, but in that glance is all her disappointment and disdain for what he has become, and even sympathy for his misdirection and maimed appearance. "Mira, take cover!" she calls behind her when Simon gives the command to kill.

"You won't stop me," she informs him, gritting her teeth and charging forward after Simon, feet already lifting off the ground as her lightsaber flares to terrible bright life, deflecting blaster shots and preparing to dodge or take on Markus should he attempt to keep her from reaching the Temple.

"I don't have to stop you, Jessalyn," Markus states, in a simple and calmed tone. However, his voice is not that of a being attuned to the Light Side of the Force, rather the calmness is a cold and empty one. He extends his hands, and snaps them forward. A glow appears around the gauntlets he's wearing as they are empowered by the True Source.

"I just have to slow you down," the former Jedi calls out and rushes towards Jessalyn, he comes in with his fist first attempting to hit the female Jedi's face.

Mira, Mira, Mira. A voice screams inside of Markus. Mira, Mira, Mira. She's here. She's here. Markus..... Shut up, another voice speaks. Just... shut up.

If Markus had eyes, he would be closing them right now.

For carrying a grown man, Simon made quick work climbing the side of the temple. The leap had helped, as had the study of the sides beforehand. What had lit a fire underneath him, however, was need. He needed to bring this to conclusion. The vision that he and Markus had shared... it had to be done. He could not fail. He could not miss.

Though he hears Harlock's words, it takes several long moments for Simon to register them. His mind was split, his concentration divided in trying to follow the movements of the Jedi, coming to hinder him, of Lucky, squeezing off volley after volley with his weapon. In his mind, he saw and felt Markus Lisardis moving to meet Jessalyn Valios.

And then he was pulling himself straight to face Harlock. Simon's shoulders slump with a shrug and a sigh as he drops Jarin to rest at his feet. Slowly, his right hand slides over his shoulder to grasp his lightsaber. Slowly, like a man preparing to take care of a chore he couldn't put off any longer.

"I am not the one that has been blinded. _Jedi_," Simon says, spitting the title as a curse. "Turn on me at the last, is it? Was this the Witch's idea? Or Luke Skywalker's? It does not matter. You can not stop this!"

The Jedi's arms stay at his sides, not bothering to reach for his own weapon just yet. "My affliction has been lifted. I can now follow the path I set on decades ago." Harlock takes in another breath and releases it, focusing his mind on the events taking place around him. "Your hatred controls you more than you know. You must release it. Only after this can you truly live. Is violence and death the path you choose to follow? If so, you are no better than those who wage war and cause the disease that is hatred that festers in this galaxy." His eyes continue to be fixed ahead, staring at the man calmly. "Don't do this."

Mira was tired. She was tired of a lot of things. First, tired of the endless trees of this planet, and tired of what they had come to mean. Tired of the bickering between Jessalyn and Aurejin about the nature and purpose of the Jedi. What to do about Morganna? What to do about Mailyn? What to do about Simon? Tired of being put in the middle, of having to choose. Tired of choosing badly. Of driving Simon to the Dark Side, and seeing Markus follow him now. Of sitting idly by, hiding, waiting, while Morganna was killed.

Mira hears the high pitched whine of the palm blaster firing from the clearing up ahead. For once, the inpenetrable jungle works in her favor, and offers her shelter from the hail of bolts. Jessalyn's warning to take cover is heard, but ignored, and she continues forward towards the clearing.

Desperate. That can be how Lucky is feeling right now. As fast as he is reloading the palm, it wasn't enough to prevent those people from coming nearer and nearer. These were fully trained Jedi, he wasn't stupid. He didn't stand a chance one on one against them, much less one on two. At Markus's advance, Lucky side-steps to allow the man to fly past him at the first female. Were the odds even? The young boy grits his teeth tightly as he faces the rustling bushes and the onslaught of the second Jedi, his palm blaster aimed low as he fires repeatedly.

A sense of Simon's intent begins to become clear to Jessalyn, making her blood run cold, and yet energizing her as she engages Markus' gauntlets with the blade of her lightsaber. "Ah, but yet another Jedi is slowing Simon down. It seems we're at a stalemate," she hisses out, using her momentum, weight and the Force to push Markus back as far as possible with her lightsaber, hoping to get past him and leap up the wall of the Temple much as the Selas had.

In another life, Markus would be thankful for Lucky's assistance, regardless of how effective it is or not. In his current life, there's no time to consider that. The former Jedi opens himself to the Dark Side of the Force, the True Source. He lets the anger become part of his determination. He's unable to resist the push through the Force by Jessalyn, although he skillfully blockes the lightsaber, however but jumps up and flips in mid-air to make sure he lands on his feet, putting some distance between himself and Jessalyn. He hisses. "Is that so?" he throws out, mockingly and runs towards her again just as he reaches through the True Source and 'grab's a large rocks, which he sends rushing towards the woman.

This strange, mystical temple had stood amidst the wilderness, a splint shoved deeply within the skin of life. It was fitting that Simon Sezirok and Harlock should stand at the top of the temple, the sunlight upon them unobstructed by the canopy of trees. It was fitting that Markus Lisardis and Jessalyn Valios engaged in heated, desperate battle at the base of the temple, with Mira moving carefully into the clearing, and Lucky trying ferociously to stop her from doing so. It was the physical manifestation of the Light versus the Dark, Order versus Chaos, Life versus Death.

It was all a part of the True Source.

Spreading his feet to shoulder width apart, Simon ignites his weapon, a twin snaphiss as green energy blades lance out from each end of his lightstaff. Side-stepping away from Jarin, Simon faces his new foe in Harlock, his lips twisting into a grimace. It would be over and done with if not for this man changing heart. Simon should have known that the poison of the Jedi's words was not so easily shaken off. He should have known.

Without wasting time for words, Simon moves. Pivoting on the ball of his right foot, Simon spins, whipping his lightstaff in a blur of motion. One green end slashes toward Harlock, cutting from lower left to upper right. Unblocked it would slice the Jedi in a reverse cut that would match what had taken Orson Tighe. This fight was not about to end so easily, however.

Finally, Mira emerges into the clearing, finally drawing her lightsaber and igniting it as she clears the last of the trees. Up to this point, most of her combat experience had involved the throwing of a rock or the occasional piece of trash at someone she didn't particuarly like. Often, when the real fighting broke out, she had stayed hidden behind boxes or was left to watch from around the corner. This time would be different, and though most of the resistance seems to come from a scrappy kid with a tiny blaster, this was plenty to keep Mira's hands full. Swinging her lightsaber awkwardly, Mira tries her best to deflect or dodge around the blasts aimed in her general direction. "Stop stop that agh!" was her battle cry, which she ylld often at Lucky.

Harlock turns as he watches Simon move to take a position at the top of the temple. His eyes stay fixed on the Selas, as if held there by the Force itself. Words never did any good against men in this state. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment or the Dark Side corrupting the man. His right arm moves out to his side and his lightsaber flies out of the side of his poncho, tumbling end over end into his hand. As his counterpart ignites his blades, so Harlock follows suit. A golden blade reveals itself, addign to the sinlight that lit his face.

Simon's strike comes quickly, but the Jedi had been expecting such a move. He shuffles back and quickly brings his lightsaber up to block. With both hands on the blade, he brings it up, helping the man's blade along whit his own underneath it, until the point where he has it waist high and spins quickly. It is a fluid movement that brings his lightsaber around swiping clean on a horizontal axis.

The nanosecond that Jessalyn spends frozen is enough for her to decide her course of action, all senses and all awareness focused on the rampaging traitor and the rock he meant to use to smash her. She doesn't even have a chance to fret that Mira has come out into open combat, though part of her heart cringes at the thought.

Lightsaber extinguished, hands held out at her sides, she bends at the knees, coiling and then springing in a blur into the air far above the place she had just been standing. Seven or so meters in the air she uncoils and latches onto the stone wall of the Temple. The Jedi catches her breath, stunned now that she has the moment to reflect, on the strength of Markus' hatred for her.

Unfortunately for Mira, Lucky does not know about her limited combat experience. He was simply someone putting in a tremendous lot of effort to stay alive against a seemingly better opponent. Lucky gulps as he says, "Hey, if ya stop moving, ah'll stop shooting and we'll jus stay here and let Father Simon do wat he haf ta da...Geddit?" Lucky continues with his volleys of shots, making sure to aim at the lower part of the body, specifically her legs, in an attempt to stop her advancement.

With a mutter, the former Jedi watches Jessalyn jump over him. He draws on the True Source and crying out he launches himself after Jessalyn. He doesn't jump as high and he's forced actually to break his jump in two as he tries to catch up with the Jedi.

"You are trying to stop something that can't be stopped. Something that was meant to happen. You can not change destiny!" the blind man calls out.

Okay... Harlock and Simon /weren't/ easy to track down understandably so. Still, it would take more than two bad Jedi to shake her. It was Kyo's natural ability of her race... and special training on top of that. The challenge is fierce and the jungle wasn't helping at all. Getting close enough, Kyo's ears catch the sounds of the same weapon she had saw Simon draw in the Cantina. That... can't be good. Following the sound, Kyo runs through the heavy brush. Pausing a moment, she looks around as the sounds stop. "Damnit..." Frwooosh. There it is again. Kyo perks up and takes off again through the trees. It was morbid in a way, but Kyo was hoping whoever it was would keep fighting until she got there.

And they did. Breaking into the clearing, Kyo's sneakered feet dig into the dirt to the sight that awaited her. What /was/ this?! A fight... a fight... and a fight! Kyo's eyes first lock on Jessalyn and... hey! She found Markus! And he's... fighting one of their own? Was she bad? Was he? Are they both out of their minds? Then violet eyes look over to Mira and Lucky. Huh... who knew? Mira /did/ lead her to finding Markus... but who was the kid and why were /they/ fighting? The flashes of light from above grabs her attention then. Looking up, the tailed woman draws in a breath as well as drawing out her blaster. Simon and Harlock...? Fighting? Has /everyone/ lost their minds? Who was good? Who was bad? Kyo stands there dumbfounded, looking around at all the battles and pondering: Is it proper Jedi etiquette to break into a duel? Didn't matter. Kyo wasn't Jedi. Putting her blaster back, she jogs to the side of the temple, leaping up to latch onto to the old stones. From there... she begins to climb. Afterall, she /did/ follow Simon and Harlock and there were a lot of questions to be answered and something told her that these two were the cause of all the chaos.

With the True Source guiding their movements, the deadly dance that Simon and Harlock engaged in was beautiful, if not for the lethality of the weapons they brought to bear. As Harlock's swing cuts toward Simon's middle, a carving slice that would split Simon at the waste, Simon's wrists twist, whipping the lightstaff into a spinning block. Green blades meet gold, screaming their protestations. Halting Harlock's blade well before it can reach his skin, Simon beats the Jedi's lightsaber back with several rapidly place parries, each carrying with them all the momentum Simon can summon. Each carried all of the frustration that Simon felt for having his plans delayed by this man he'd trusted.

Sensing more then seeing the battle shift and change below, Simon moves from the parry into the opposite direction, withdrawing a half step. His knees buckle for a split second, and then once more he takes to the air, leaping toward Harlock, swinging his lightstaff in mid-flight. It was a forward flip to take him above and then past Harlock.

Perhaps at one point Harlock had lost sight of what he was intended to do and the teaching that were once given to him so long ago. Now, however, he had rediscovered all that he had once lost. One could almost see the young Jedi Knight again back in his full glory. That individual was not lost as people had once thought.

With Simon moving into the air over Harlock, he takes to the ground and slides forward with his lightsaber above his head to block, moving underneath Simon to take an opposite position to that which the opponent would land in. Rolling forward, he comes smoothly up to his feet and turns. A free hand extends, pointsing to several large rocks on the top of the temple and then pointing off to the side, casting them away into the jungle. Finally, he returns both hands to his saber, waiting for the next attack.

With uncanny speed and agility, the flame-haired Jedi finds footfalls and pulls herself up the outer wall, undaunted by Markus' warnings. The sounds and sensations of the battle raging at its apex hasten her movement, as does Markus' pursuit. "And who are you to decide destiny?" she whispers, sending the message to him more through the Force than through her voice. "Murder is the way you use your powers now?" She ignores the blood that the rough wall scrapes from her hand while she climbs. Harlock and Jarin were both in danger. It was time for the Light to turn the tide.

As she nears the top, Jessalyn dangles one-handed, bringing up her lit sword with the other as she begins to swing her body strategically onto the roof. Mira couldn't very well stop moving so long as Lucky continued to fire helter skelter at her, but she wasn't about to just ignore him either and go fight someone else. Something told her that turning her back on him would not be a good idea. Maybe it was the way he kept shooting at it. So she compromises. Instead of advancing with each step, she begins to fall back. Or, occasionally hop back. Though it didn't seem like he was really trying to hit her, some of those shots came pretty close to her legs. It only takes a few shots for her to get back so she is almost at the edge of the treeline. "You stop shooting, and I'll stop moving!" she yells over the sounds of the battle, hoping the extra distance between them will help change the kid's mind.

"I ask you the same question, Jessalyn. Who are /you/ to decide destiny? Who are the /Jedi/ to decide destiny?" Markus projects towards her. "I use what tools are available and unlike the Jedi, I don't make a hypocrite of myself in the process. You alter minds, you abandon your own. Do not presume to lecture me, Jessalyn," Markus mutters.

The blind former Jedi seems to be having an easier time with his climb, but however he's still behind Jessalyn and will new a few moments to catch up. His hands are protected by the gauntlets and he tries to push himself to the limits in an attempt to reach Jessalyn before she can interefere.

Sneakers were not meant for climbing as was being proven with each slip of her shoes. The woman grunts, using her tail for as much balance as she can. Pity she wasn't a Jedi. She'd be up there in no time. Oh, well. Kyo would have to make due. Drigging her hands against the temple, she climbs until she reaches an over-hang. Climbing onto it, she stands, trying to catch her breath. Damn, the temple was taller than it looked. She watches the kid shoot at the hopping Jedi and considers helping her... but if she fired on him, then he'd fire on her and she had very little room to dodge. The battle continues above her, pushing Kyo further. Taking in a deep breath, Kyo turns back to the temple and jumps up, latching onto the structure once more. Slippery shoes and everything, she makes her way towards the top. Almost there... almost... Huh.. looks like everyone is headed that way. Kyo growls, determined to get there.

Apprenhensively, Lucky gaze back at Simon and his battle on top of the temple and then back at Mira, "Not until ya withdraw dat lightsabre thingy, ah ain't trusting ya evil jedi ta stab me in da back after ah stop shooting." Ayup...well and thoroughly corrupted by his 'father' Simon and Markus. Lucky's shots does slow down, it becomes a little more precise like aiming at the ground before her slightly to prevent her from walking forward. "Come on Come on, Poppa...can't ya do ya thing?" Lucky mutters to himself.

Simon's green sweeps are blocked in his flip over Harlock, as anticipated. His feet barely touch the hard stone of the apex of the temple before they are pushing toward his opponent once again, his feet gripping the rock through the soft souls of his boots.

Shifting his grip on his lightstaff, Simon brings his weapon to bear like a spear, thrusting and jabbing with one end, his left wrist turned just so, so that he can break the rear blade to bear for parrying. He needed to finish this soon. Jessalyn was near, having just slipped past Markus. Hopefully Lucky was having better luck holding off Mira. With so much going on around him, it was difficult to spend any thought on sensing what was happening at the base of the temple.

"It is not the Jedi," Jessalyn replies calmly into Markus' mind. "It is the Force. We do not deal with death in judgment where it is undeserved." Her boots find purchase on the temple roof at last, and she immediately moves several steps back, panting loudly and slashing at the stone structure in front of her feet so that the edge begins to crumble above Markus. Sweat pours from her face in intense concentration, adding the power of the Force to escalate the small avalanche that will hopefully stop him.

As the shots are fired more and more towards the ground and less and less at her feet and ankles, Mira stops her hopping backing up dance and finally just stands there, both feet on the ground. Holding her ignited lightsaber out in front of her, Mira considers the boy's offer, finally deciding that it was safe and thumbing the switch to turn it off. As the blade withdraws into the handle, Mira lets her arm drop to her side. It hangs there for a moment, waiting to make sure that the boy stops shooting at her.

At the withdrawal of the lightsaber, Lucky does indeed stop shooting as he stands there face to face with Mira, eyeing her warily as his eyes dart to her lightsabre, "Ya shouldn't stop Poppa Simon, he's gonna git rid of dat curse in ya...den ya can live happily, ya know." The boy adds as he keeps a firm hold on his blaster, in the event that Mira starts to move. "Tis evil ya know, dat thing inside ya...it eats ya up and den spits ya out again and make ya mean and ornery...ya know...and it hurts ya...so ya should jus let Poppa do his thing...he'll make everything right...he'll save ya all." The young boy adds, ever protective of his 'father' as he stands firmly before Mira.

"But you certainly take the time to screw other people's lives," Markus responds to Jessalyn. His anger currently very focused, very determined and that... is his undoing in this particular case. As Jessalyn causes the avalanche, Markus is caught on it, only listening to that part of him connected to the True Source and warning him of the danger a moment too late.

To his credit, he manages to not be completely drown by the falling debris, but it still manages to take the former Jedi out of the race for the time being.

Again, Simon moves in quickly to try and seize the moment. Harlock, however, is prepared. His golden blade flies from left to right parrying the thrusts while stepping back. One of thrusts makes it past his blocking, cutting a gash in the side of Harlock's body. The lightsaber comes from the bottom up quickly to slap the green blade away and clear room for him. He flips backward with his lightsaber blade disappearing mid-air. His hands touch down on the ground first and his body curls, rolling for a split-second before he springs up and onto his feet.

The Jedi's hand moves to his side, touching the wound and returning in front of his face with blood on the tips. His fingers and thumbs come together, rubbing the substance between them before they come to his face, painting a line with it under each eye. The war paint that his ancestors had once used. With both hands now on the lightsaber and the blade reactivated with a snap-hiss, he springs forward. This time, however, he holds the lightsaber with the blade pointed down, instead of the normal direction. His swipe comes vertically, moving to slice the Selas in half.

Kyo grunts again, pushing herself onward though her entire body is screaming that she stop. What was she going to do when she got up there, anyway? Dance for them? They were Jedi. Then again, they were occupied Jedi. Breathing heavy and bleeding from the strain and scrapes, Kyo's hands catch the temple's roof and once there, her feet claw at the building, doing her best to pull herself up. She scurries up on her stomach before rolling onto her rear, her legs hanging over the edge of the roof as she tries to catch her breath. Even her tail was too tired to move. However, she knew if she stopped moving, she would cramp up, so pulling herself to her feet, Kyo faces the battle, drawing her blaster. Now... who was the bad one? They both had changed a lot before... but Harlock... no. He had to have been the victim. As the battle rages, Kyo sets her blasters sights on Simon. She does, however, note Jessalyn trying to trample Markus with rocks. Was Markus... on simon's side? Impossible. He was Kyo's fellow comrade... wasn't he?

The flip Simon had performed earlier had put him on the other side of Harlock, switching their positions. More, it gave him a clear view of the direction he'd come from when climbing the temple. It would be this same side that Jessalyn Valious would come from, he was certain. Or anyone else.

As anticipated, there Jessalyn was, atop the temple. There were three people sharing the precariously small, flat surface of the ziggurat temple. Even with flat terrain and no obstacles, Simon would be hard pressed to withstand Harlock and Jessalyn together. Fortunately, Simon could sense Markus coming after Jessalyn...

And then hope fades, as Jessalyn causes a landslide. Re-engaging Harlock, trading rapid strikes and parries, Simon's eyes widen and his mouth drops into a shocked O. He could feel hope falling along with his Brother. He could feel it being buried beneath stone and rubble. His heart skips a beat.

And then just as suddenly, Simon feels the hair on the back of his neck prick up. Withdrawing three very hasty steps away from Harlock's blade, Simon bends back deeply and twists to one side the moment Kyokusha directs her blaster towards Simon's back. So there were four atop the temple, now.

Continuing the twisting movement, Simon backs further away from Harlock, bringing his lightsaber up to point it at Kyokusha. He draws upon the True Source, lifts as he had with Jarin, then turns back around once more. Hurling the blonde tailed woman with tremendous speed, Simon directs the woman past Harlock and toward Jessalyn Valios. Perhaps he could take care of two birds with one toss.

With the woman tossed, Simon directs his attention back to Harlock, bringing his lightstaff into a defensive stance. The battle was not yet one.

Barely pausing to savor her relief, Jessalyn turns from where Markus fell, wracked by guilt but at the need to survive, as well. There is no need for words. Harlock had succeeded so far in keeping Simon occupied at least, though she cringes as is hit by Simon's blade. With two Jedi to contend with, he would surely have to relent.

Projecting her fierce presence, her blue-green blade humming powerfully as she calls on the Force to fill her and become her guide and protector, she approaches the dueling pair from the side, watching both their faces, adrenaline pumping as she watches Harlock mark his face with blood.

Then there is another person Jessalyn does not recognize, and by the time she realizes the implication of Kyokusha's presence, it is too late. "No!" she cries out, knowing Sezirok will use her against them. Forced to deactivate her saber, it clatters to the stone roof and rolls away as Jessalyn throws up her arms, attempting to slow the blond woman's momentum enough to keep them from both flying over the edge of the temple when she catches her.

Thus far, Mira's mind had been occupied with not getting shot. But as that annoying distraction begins to flitter off, the rest of the surrounding conflicts crowd in on Mira. Harlock and Simon on top of the temple. An unknown woman hurtling in the air, tossed at Jessalyn. And Markus. The image of her friend under a pile of debris comes rushing through her head. "Markus!" Mira exclaims, forgetting for a moment that Lucky is still there, with a blaster still pointed at her and taking a few steps towards the base of the temple. Remembering Lucky (and his blaster), however, she stops and turns towards him, moving very slowly to reattach the lightsaber harmlessly to her belt. "I just want to help him, okay?" she asks, looking up to where Markus is buried.

At the tremendous roar of the landslide, Lucky barely managed to force himself not to glance at the pile of boulders which had buried Markus partially. His attention was turned back towards Mira as the woman makes to move towards the buried Jedi. Lucky's eyes narrowed, "Wat do ya mean? Ya think ya haven't hurt 'im enough? Wat are ya gonna do now? Sit on da rocks and jump up and down on it ta make it worse?" Lucky starts to inch slowly towards the remnants of the landslide. Maybe, just maybe is it possible that the boy could have a somewhat adolescent crush on the blind man.

Kyokusha. As her presence becomes apparent to Harlock he takes a few steps back to end his forward assault. He looks back for a moment to see Jessalyn dropping her saber to catch the woman. They then fall to the dropped weapon and he extends a hand. The weapon tumbles through the air to his hand and he ignites it. Hazel eyes again focusing on Simon, he now holds one lightsaber normally and his own with the blade pointing down. And so it begins again. The Jedi's right foot pivots to take his weight as he pushes of and begins spinning forward to Simon with slashes coming from his blades one after the other from the upper-left to lower right. The movement was repeated over and over, not letting up.

Kyo's eyes widen as Simon notices her before she can fire. Then... the lightsaber is pointed right at her. Even more frightening, she can feel something wrapping around her. "Simon... no. Don't do this..." Of course, she's the only one there almost totally clueless of what intentions lay within the minds of everyone else. "No!" Too late. The woman is now being used just like the rocks moments ago and being tossed to the other woman. Caught, the two hit the roof and Kyo does her best to quickly get up, though she is dizzy. Stablizing herself on one knee, Kyo looks for her blaster. Yes! Still in her hand. The clutches of death wouldn't free that weapon from her grip. Quickly, she aims at Simon and after a pause, she pulls the trigger and lets a blast of burnt atmosphere fly through the air.

"No, I just want to make sure he's okay," Mira replies. As the boy inches towards the landslide, the girl inches too. "Look, if you think I'm hurting him, you can shoot me, okay? Now, we can sit here and hope he's okay, or we can go over there and dig him out. But it's up to you." Her gaze drifts up to the top of the temple, where the tiny shapes of Simon and Harlock, Kyokusha and Jessalyn dance about, like on top of a music box. A music box of death. "Or we could sit down here. It's hot." Mira almost looks like she'd be perfectly happy to sit down here and not help. Maybe find some water. After all, it was hot today, and it had been a long walk. And the dance atop the temple was interesting. But the way her eyes keep flicking over to Markus's debris pile suggest that she's not all that aloof.

The ferocity of Harlock's attack could not be denied. With two lightsabers coming from differing directions, sometimes simultaneously, it was all Simon could do to keep the gold and blue-green laser swords from reaching his skin. To Simon, it feels like an eternity as he is forced back, step by agonizing step. No time to return the attack. No time to do anything else other than defend himself, and wait for an opening.

With the edge drawing closer and closer, with his arms pumping and moving, keeping his lightstaff moving in a blur, sweat began to bead on Simon's brow. The muscles in his arms felt like they were on fire, as did his lungs from drawing in rapid breath. His chest hurt from his heart pounding against his rib cage. Had he bought himself any time at all in hurling Kyokusha after Jessalyn?

Instincts kick in, causing him to pivot and face the blast from Kyokusha's weapon. The shot bounces harmlessly off one end of Simon's lightstaff, but with the movement, Simon winces, knowing what is to come. He couldn't leap back, or to either side. He had no place to dodge to. He was out of position, and Harlock had not let up.

The gold blade is the first to seer Simon's flesh, digging deeply into Simon's left thigh. Skin and clothing burn. A cry leaves Simon's lips. Jessalyn's weapon, the blue-green blade that had once severed Simon's hand, bites into his right arm. Both cuts go nearly to the bone, and Simon is dropped to his knees. He nearly drops his lightstaff. He nearly falls backwards, over the edge of the temple roof.

Letting out a howl of rage and pain, Simon throws himself forward in one more desperate attack. His left hand disengages one end of his lightstaff moments before his own green energy weapon would gash into his gut. Reaching, extending, Simon drives the remaining activated side up and toward Harlock, hoping to slide beneath the man's defenses. His quest was balanced on the edge of a knife, as was his life.

"Sure...dat's wat ya say and den..when ya git closer ta him, ya will kill him! Ah know! Dat's de modeus operandem..of all ya jedis!" Lucky adds as he switches to holding the blaster with one hand. With his free hand, he starts to slowly toss the rocks aside. "Ya're no better den dem all no matter wat he sayz...ya know." Lucky adds as he takes in a deep breath, his gaze flickering towards Markus.

At Simon's howl, Lucky glanced sharply up towards the Temple top, his face all but paling at the sight that he feasts upon. It was not fair! They were /triple-teaming/ him. The young boy hisses at Mira, "Ah hate ya all, ya donch play FAIR!" With that the young boy abandons Markus as he dashes towards his pseudo father, blaster in hand as he starts shooting at abandon at the people around Simon.

Slowly, groaning from the impact with Kyokusha and the temple roof, Jessalyn gets to her knees, then finally to her feet. "No, no," she whispers, not commanding but deeply worried, as she lands a hand on Kyokusha's shoulder. "Don't shoot him." The Jedi sucks in a breath, feeling the wave of pain as her own laser sword wielded in Harlock's hand slices the Selas' flesh. He wasn't supposed to end this way. "Harlock!" she closes in on the elder Jedi from behind, unable to do anything but watch as the injured Simon goes back on the attack. "No more hurting! No more death! Simon, please!" the flame-haired woman pleads, on one knee again, weaponless and vulnerable.

Success. Harlock had injured his opponent. He pulls back, spinning in the process and bringing the blades around him and then pulling them closer. Jessalyn was right in wanting to stop the hurting. However, Simon's next move was not anticipated at all. The Jedi's eyes lock onto the lightstaff's blade as it closes in on him and he moves quickly to attempt to parry. Alas, his movement is not quick or precise enough.

Clearly viewable to Jessalyn and the others is the green glow from Simon's lightstaff as it shows on the other side of Harlock's chest. It is too much pain for the man to scream. Too much of a shock for him to even breath. The blade dissappears, but it leaves behind a simple charred and smoking hole in his body. Both lightsabers in the man's hands are deactivated as he simply falls backwards, both falling to the ground and rolling back behind him. Worn and weathered hands draw up to his chest, covering the hole. Finally, he is able to swallow, but does nothing more than stare up at the sky. After all the distance he had travelled to return to the galaxy... this is what happened.

The blast hits and Kyo staggers to her feet. Something in her hurt to see Simon fall, but was it finally over? Her eyes glance down only a moment to the pile of rubble dubbed Markus. Damnit... why didn't those two just go /help/ him already? She didn't want to have to report Markus dead. Looking to Jessalyn, Kyo puts her blaster down. Finally, someone was talking sense. "Simon! Harlock! Stop fighting!" It seemed safe to scream. "This is pointless! No one has to get hurt!" Aside from the fact that Kyo didn't want to see anyone die. A wave of dizziness hits Kyo and she staggers, falling to her knees. "Ow..." She groans, still watching the two, biting her lip. Simon lunges forward again and Kyo gasps. Not to mention annoying blaster fire coming in from ground level. Argh.

Then it happens and Kyo's eyes widen. "Harlock! No!" It was too late, obviously and the sight struck at Kyo so hard, she loses all reason. Staggering to her feet, Kyo's eyes narrow, though emotion is over-whelming her. "Harlock... why...?" Her voice was faltering as was her stance. Her eyes lock on Simon. "You! I won't forgive you!" Not like Simon would really care. Throwing her blaster down, the tailed woman gathers all her remaining energy to run full-force at Simon, ready to tackle him. If they fell, he'd break her fall... hopefully.

Fiercely, Lucky charges up, he wasn't as fast as the jedi, so he has to use his smarts. Smart. Smart. /That/ woman was going to tackle him. Lucky aimed repeatedly at the woman's feet/legs, whatever that would catch her. Come on...Fall! Fall! The blue blaster bolts singe out as he fires off rapidly.

Jessalyn's heartbeat blots out all other sounds for an eternal, heartbreaking moment when she sees the blade pierce Harlock's body. Shaking with shock, she stares at his fallen form, then at Simon, a blood-curdling war cry coming from her throat. This had to stop, even if it meant killing Simon, the last resort she cound never bring herself to carry out. But there was too much blood on his hands now and his heart had only grown harder.

Within seconds, she is on her feet, the Force guiding her own lightsaber back into her hands as she lunges at the vile Selas, her cry reverberating throughout the jungle as she swings for Simon's throat.

Pain. The wounds inflicted by Harlock were pure agony. Without the True Source, Simon would probably lay down and pass out, unable to stop the coming attacks of Kyokusha and Jessalyn. Though his limbs had not been severed, the pain was such that it felt as though they had been.

But the True Source was with him, and drawing upon it, Simon pushes the pain back to the furthest reaches of his mind. Drawing upon it, he forces himself to hop quickly to his feet to meet the enraged charge of the two women.

Kyokusha was just ahead of Jessalyn, which was fortunate for Simon. Seeing the blue-green lightsaber swinging wildly at the level of his throat, Simon could cut Kyokusha down and then home to best Jessalyn in a fight, with his limbs cut and his strength fading. Or...

Putting one step toward Kyokusha, Simon meets her charge and drops backwards. Drawing upon her momentum, he adds some of his own, kicking with one leg to send Kyokusha flying backwards. He lets out a grunt with the effort, and some of the pain he'd managed to hold back stabs toward the forefront of his mind.

The maneuver was the best Simon could do. Dropped as he was, Jessalyn's lightsaber sizzles through the space where his head had been. Being at the edge of the top of the ziggurat, there was no space behind Simon for Kyokusha to land. Only a long drop down. Would the Jedi press her attack to end Simon's life, or move to save Kyokusha from a broken neck or worse? Shifting his lightstaff, Simon begins going through the mental preparations for both possibilities.

Okay... this isn't going all too good. Making contact with the man, Kyo suddenly realizes how close she is to getting slashed in half with the burning weapon. Oh... and even worse. Simon ducks down and rolls her over him, kicking her up with his leg. For the second time, Kyo finds herself flying through the air. The impact will likely kill her. The area around the temple littered with rocks not to mention how high the roof was. In those seconds as the takes the to sky, she thinks 'Did I even help... did I ever...? Drax. Hikaru. Emma. I'm sorry.' It was then she realizes her mistake. Just like always, it comes to her a little too late. 'I did it for justice... for the balance of the universe.' Heart pounding, Kyo is a victim of gravity, pulled towards the ground.

His heart felt as though it was going to burst out as Lucky finally scramble his way to the top. The blaster was tossed aside as the young boy makes a leap towards Jessalyn in what appears to be futile attempt to stop her from killing Simon.

Mira, left standing by Markus's debris pile, had quickly set to work pulling the larger rocks off of the top, leaving Lucky to ascend the temple to help Simon. She draws on the Force for strength to move the heavy rocks, allowing it to wash over her body and mind, strengthening her tired muscles and heightening her awareness for her surroundings.

But as she works, things on top of the temple go from bad to worse, and first, Harlock is lost. She can do nothing to help him from her present position but continue to work as his distinct presence in the Force fades into the background noise, becoming one with it. Once again, she had stood by, helping the enemy and not racing to help, while Simon had killed another Jedi.

And then, suddenly, something flies off the top of the temple. Was it another rock? Harlock had thrown several of those earlier. No! It was a person! 'I've got it!' is all Mira sends through the Force to Jessalyn on top of the temple, before breaking into a haphazard run in the direction of the flying body.

Simon had gambled on Jessalyn's nature to save himself, knowing she would save the innocent victim rather than engage him yet again. Indeed, the conflict is there on her face, in her aura, as she stares in horror, feeling Kyokusha's descent --

But then Mira's reassuring message reaches her, and her mind is made up. Face contorted, she swings her lightsaber behind and brings it down to bear, aiming for Simon's chest, hoping his wounds have weakened him. "You -- must -- be stopped!" she chokes out.

Simon hadn't counted on Mira being able to catch the thrown woman. In fact, he'd completely underestimated her. She had grown under the tutelage of the Jedi. It was likely that she was irrevocably Jedi now, like Harlock. If he survived this and failed in his plans, it could be Mira with the hole in her chest instead of the Jedi he'd struck down a few minutes ago. For her sake and his, Simon had to persevere.

Wounded as he was, on his back and tired, Simon was in no position to bring his lightstaff up to defend himself from Jessalyn's killing blow. Yet the True Source was with him. Drawing upon it, reaching with it around him like a blind man fumbling in an unfamiliar room, Simon finds what he was looking for. A moment before the greenish blue energy blade would take Simon in the heart, Jessalyn's hand is batted away as Simon directs a stone with some heft to his defense.

Without waiting for Jessalyn's second strike, Simon shifts to his side and spins around, kicking toward Jessalyn's legs with a massive leg sweep. If fortune was with Simon, perhaps it'd be enough for Lucky to shoot her with his weapon. It _was_ Lucky he sensed joining them on the top of the ziggurat, wasn't it?

The blaster had long since been tossed aside in Lucky's struggle to get to the top. As he leaps upon Jessalyn, he draws the vibroblade from the his waist. At such close proxmity, it was difficult to miss, he would not be able to reach her in time, but he can still throw. With that, he tossed the vibroblade. The vibroblade makes a beautiful arc before it buries itself firmly in Jessalyn's shoulder. Fatal? Not likely. Painful? Most likely.

She is ready to do it, or at least Jessalyn believes she is. Orson... Harlock... even Morganna, after she'd returned to the Light. Yet, she does hesitate, looking at Simon beaten and hurt, bent and misguided before her. Was it too late? It had to be... there was nothing left in him capable of love...

"Aigh!" grunts Jessalyn as an unseen rock knocks her in the wrist and her lightsaber tumbles to the temple roof, and then over it. The next thing she is aware of is a seering pain in her shoulder that drops her to her knees and makes her scream out yet again. She glimpses the vibroblade buried in her back and then closes her eyes, utterly drained and defenseless.

The foot of the temple is surrounded by tufts of green breaking through the packed earth. All around, the ground is peppered with piles of rocks, some from fallen monuments, some crumbled from the sides of the temple itself, others, like the one's thrown earlier, lie scattered with no obvious purpose whatsoever.

Mira races towards Kyokusha's falling body, reaching out with the Force to try to slow her accellerating descent, or at least deflect her onto something that wasn't too sharp or rocky. Trying to move Kyo while running was almost more than Mira could handle. In her chest, her heart begins to pound, and it feels like her lungs are unable to supply her burning muscles with the oxygen they need to keep moving.

If not for the True Source, she would have never made it at all. As Kyokusha's body falls closer to the earth, still faster than she would have liked, Mira throws herself forward, arms outstretched. She wasn't sure exactly what she planned to do. Catch the woman? Have her land on her? At least the ground seemed reasonably free from rocks.

In Simon's mind, it would have been better if Harlock hadn't had to die. It would have been better if there had been no fighting at the top of the ziggurat. It was all unnecessary and wasteful. Only one person remained that had to die, and his body still lay warm and unconscious on the other side of the roof from he and Jessalyn and Lucky. It was as if he'd been forgotten in all the fighting and death. His death, at least, would have some meaning.

Fumbling to his feet, Simon turns a dark gaze upon Jessalyn. He watches as she drops to the knees, and he hears her weapon skittering down the lumpy, nearby wall. She was defenseless. He could kill her, now.

Taking a step towards Jessalyn, Simon tries to ready himself to do just that. It was what she'd deserved. She'd ruined his life, hadn't she? She'd lied to him. She'd abandoned him. He could take that knife from her back and slit her throat, and her blood would run freely down the side of the temple, one more stain amidst the ruins. With a quivering hand, Simon reaches towards Jessalyn's shoulders...

... and stops. Even she could be saved, once she was severed from the True Source. Stepping forward, Simon's hand touches Jessalyn's shoulder.

"I bet you can't do that twice," Simon murmurs, his eyes flicking down toward Mira. And with that, he gives Jessalyn a firm shove, over the side of the temple.

The seconds seemed like eternity. 'Oh, just let me /hit/ already...' But noooo. Something wanted to taunt her... tease her. Push her? As she falls, Kyo can feel herself being pushed and pulled in one direction or another, but the ground was still coming.... hard. THUD! Kyo's cry of pain is cut short as she hits. Still... the help from wherever helped and she didn't land on rocks or trees. Dizzy, she groans, looking up at the temple's roof with blurring vision. She sees someone else fly off the roof and the tailed woman tries to speak, coughing up blood. "L....ook.... out...." Ow... that hurt.

The young boy collapses somewhat on the ground after the toss. His breath was coming out in pants as rivulets of perspiration drips down his face. Glancing up, he watches as his father pushes the Jedi lady over the temple. His conscience screamed at him. Jedis are evil! Jedis are mean! Jedis hurt his 'father'. Jedis hurt the whole world. But what was it that propel Lucky to call out to Simon, "Poppa the man!" and gesture towards the fallen form of Jarin as he kicks out after the distraction. A green vine swings after Jessalyn. Now its up to her and the luck of whether the vine holds firm.

"Simon," Jessalyn whispers, her voice choking as he comes toward her. She knew he meant no kindness in the touch, but in that moment she was the one abandoned and alone. There was only faithful, diligent Mira. Perhaps Aurejin could mold her as Jessa has been unable to do. Those who had trained her, those she had taught, comrades she had fought alongside with... they were either dead or disappeared.

With a knowing, resigned smile, Jessalyn Valios gazes into Simon's eyes before she closes her own tightly, anticipating the push, and falling like a limp doll over the fatal edge. Only at the last moment does she glimpse the swinging vine, and grasps weakly at it, feeling it slip through her fingers as she slides down its length. It doesn't stop her fall, but it does slow it enough that she lands rather unceremoniously and unconscious on top of the mound of stone that had entombed Markus.

Part 2 The Yavin sun was beyond its zenith, bathing the sky in a warmer, less harsh colors. Near the ancient temple, where blood was shed and hope was destroyed by both evil and good alike, it may be the only element present that was less harsh. The Jedi Harlock lay still atop the ziggurat, his eyes unseeing and unblinking, turned up towards the heavens. Not too far off, another Jedi, young and inexperienced, lay still breathing, unconscious and with his hands bound behind his back. Another youth, dirty and trembling from what his eyes had witnessed, Lucky was at a loss for words after seeing a nightmare come alive spread before his eyes. His surrogate father had done murder in front of him. Through slight trickery and a quick hand, he'd kept yet another Jedi, the red haired Jessalyn Valios, from being dying from a fall brought about by that same surrogate father, the Selas Simon Sezirok.

Standing shakily atop the temple, Simon lets his gaze roll down the side of the ancient structure, abused and broken from the recent events. Markus Lisardis was buried beneath recently overturned bricks and stone. Some distance away, Mira lay on the ground after having lept to save the life of Kyokusha, who also took a terrible fall from the top of the temple.

Drawing a deep breath, trying not to feel the deep, cauterized wounds on his arm and leg, Simon takes a wobbly step back away from the edge and half turns toward the still quiet body of Jarin. He still had time to finish that which he'd begun. Who was left to stop him? Who would dare?

Kyo watches at Jessalyn catches onto a vine and saves herself form slamming into the ground. Now, see? Being Jedi had a lot more benefits. With a grunt, Kyo forces herself to sit up, blood streaming down the side of her head. Dizziness was taking her over, but Kyo does her best to ignore it... or at least over-come it. Staggering to her feet, the tailed woman is obviously in no condition to climb the temple walls again. No... she has another reason to be standing. One step in front of the next, she does her best to regain what ability to walk she had left. It was thanks to Mira and her abilities with the Force that Kyo's back wasn't snapped in two. Still, Kyo knew that come tomorrow, she wouldn't be able to move. If there /is/ a tomorrow. For now, she staggers about, looking around blankly. Was she crazy? Dazed? Well... maybe a little of both, but her true intention comes to light as she kneels down slowly and picks up the blaster she had thrown before her attempt to tackle Simon. Gripping it tightly, Kyo rises to her feet once more and looks up. "Simon..." Yeah, she saw him up there, but what was he doing...? Should she even try to shoot him. No.. there could be others up there.

Mira's attempt to catch Kyokusha hadn't gone exactly as planned, as she found herself lying face down, arms outstretched several feet short of where the woman had actually landed. At least Kyo seemed to have landed on soft ground, and just hard enough to leave a nice dent in the dirt while still being able to walk away. Perhaps it was best that Mira was not dented like that.

"Grug," Mira grunts, slowly rolling over and moving to a sitting position. Her arm lifts and makes some kind of attempt to dust herself off and pick the dirt off of her mouth, but mostly succeeds in just moving it around. A gash runs across her knee, courtesy of a sharp rock she had landed on. Though bleeding, it didn't look like it would kill her. "Are you okay?" she asks, turning her attention towards Kyokusha and clambering to her feet, mentally surveying the area for the others.

A low rumble races through the forest, slight tremor so fine and consistent as to feel almost electrical to those who are standing on a surface with little give. The tremor is soon accompanied by a mechanical-sounding growl, a ship - it is finally evident - approaching, perhaps circling, in the distance. And then the noise fades, but not before a sleek shadow races out of the verdant surroundings, over the clearing floor, and up the side of the temple walls. For those standing atop the ziggurat, the sun is blotted out for a moment by a sight so fantastic and incongruent as to seem almost imaginary.

There are wings, four of them, hard but lufting in the wind of descent, diaphanous and veined with opaque ribs for strength, catching the available daylight and splitting it into its component colors. At the center of all of this apparatus, there is a man, a personal repulsor drive strapped to his shoulders and warbling loud, with an insect-like intensity. It is Aurejin, carried aloft on the wind itself. Invited by Simon, hosted to his place by Disaster but willed to this spot by the Force of nature, he simply appears, face set into determined lines. He is drifting in, gliding in fast and wordless, already turning his body to release himself from the gear but still some twenty meters in the air.

This was the moment that Simon had been striving toward. It had started before he'd landed on Yavin. It had started before he'd taken Morganna's life, and before Markus had been forced to rip his own eyes out of their sockets. This was the path he'd been put on by the True Source from birth. The meaning of his existence was to extinguish the white hot fire that was the Jedi, once and for all, even if it meant his death. Even if it meant he had to kill to do it.

Staggering the remaining distance to Jarin, the unconscious boy that would have one day rivaled him as so many of the other Jedi had, Simon drops to his knees, hard enough for the stone to bruise his already abused flesh. The pain was a part of the process. The pain, the blood of a Jedi, and one other item.

Reaching into a secured pouch, kept close to his heart, Simon draws forth a leather wrapped mound, roughly the size of a closed fist. It had been quite some time since he'd drawn forth this treasure. It was still soft in his hand. With a hand that should be shaking but wasn't, Simon let the leather wrapping fall away, revealing the darkly colored mass that once was Morganna's heart.

Looking over his shoulder, Simon turns his eyes towards the heavens as his right hand goes to a dagger sheath under his cloak. Words in a forgotten language begin to roll off his tongue, dark and vile sounding. Even as Simon began the ritual, he could sense the approaching, familiar power of Aurejin, the Jedi that had bested him in the Imperial stronghold. It was too late for him to interfere. It was too late for anyone to interfere. The time was now.

The words continue spewing out of Simon's mouth, and the wind began to pick up from a breeze to heavy gusts. Simon's hair is whipped to one side by the growing wind, and he raises his voice louder to be heard over it. The True Source was with him. The dagger he'd been reaching for is drawn out, it's silvery blade glimmering in the sunlight.

Clouds begin to form suddenly directly over Simon's head, spreading like flames across the sky, stretching to block out the afternoon light. Simon's voice, the foul words of the ancient, forgotten ritual, is amplified by the True Source, and his hatred for the Jedi. The knife and heart are raised into the air.

With a final shout, Simon plunged the knife into Jarin's chest, and a fount of black fire spews up out of the top of the ziggurat, rising to meet the clouds churning angrily overhead. The wind crescendos as does Simon's voice. The heart that had once belonged to a Sith begins to beat, and an unnatural light begins to shine in Simon's eyes. Simon's eyes, that once had been blue, now slotted like a great predator. The temple begins to quiver and shake, quaking as though shaking with rage.

As the knife drops into his chest, Jarin wakes with a startling gasp of pain and agony. A bellowing scream of pure torment cries out from the throat of the youth, even as his senses seem to be dulled from the pain, filled with a sense of warmth, as though from some sort of release. As his life fades from his body, his senses seem to expand outward, reaching out across the temple, the field, even the very moon that he remains on. For a brief instant, Jarin touches all around him, sensing the force like he had never felt before, or ever would, even in life.

He senses the others around him, both familiar and unfamiliar all at once. He senses Jessalyn and Mira, and Aurejin's swift approach. Even as the cone of black balefire rises from his chest in ever increasing force, wracking his body with the purest agony, Jarin's spirit remains untouched, though his blood is split for the most evil of purposes that could be known. As his life fades, he reaches out to those that had taught him all he had known of the Force, and had taught him all he had ever known of any kind of family.

To Jessalyn, Mira, and Aurejin, a brief warm touch that they can feel as Jarin reaches them, uttering a few simple words that may surprise, or may not, -Thank you.- A true thanks, and then a sense of overwhelming peace eminates from Jarin's spirit as it leaves, following the last line of the Jedi Code:

There is no Death, there is the Force.

In those last fleeting moments, Jarin falls dead to the stone beneath him, while the empty husk of his body continues to pour out from his chest. In those last fleeting moments in the Force, he finalizes the choice he made so long ago, the choice to be a Jedi, no matter the cost.

"Yeah... I'm fine," Kyo replies to Mira. In her book, so long as you could walk, you were fine. Feeling the shakes from a ship, Kyo squints slightly. A glider? Interesting. Pity she couldn't see the man from her perspective because if she could, she would recognize him from the Cantina previously. Still, there wasn't time for sudden memories. The present was much too terrifying. Harlock was dead and his murderer was still alive. What could Kyo do? Still, Simon's injuries may make it a doable fight, but Kyo was having doubts. Then... the storm begins.

Something unnatural was going on. Something sinister and evil and.... dark. Violet eyes still locked on the roof of the temple, Kyo grits her teeth together so hard, they could probably shatter. What was he doing...? The scene before causes Kyo to take steps back in horror and an arm goes up in attempt to shield her eyes from the wind. The flash of a blade catches Kyo's eyes and her breath chokes in her throat. Didn't take her long to figure out the gist. Simon was at it again. "Simon! NO!" Strange how people yell that, knowing it will be ignored. The blade goes down and dark blood spews into the heavens. Oh, if only she knew the whole picture. Knew what those Force-blessed ones around her knew. It would paralyzed her. However, Kyo didn't know. She had no clue. All she saw was another life taken so horribly. Kyo didn't know who was now dead... it didn't matter anymore. Simon had killed again... he won't get a chance to do it once more. Not while Kyo was still breathing. Raising her retrieved blaster up to the roof, Kyo growls. "You're a monster!" The blaster fires. Not once... twice... but three times. Battered, bleeding, and tired, Kyo was acting out fully on a broken spirit. Too many deaths at once.

The vibration that first creeps across the moon's surface when Aurejin's ship enters the atmosphere begins to stir Jessalyn from her unconscious state. Pain brings her to more acute awareness, even as it weakens her resolve to move, every breath a seering jolt that makes air come harshly in and out of her lungs.

Yet as she lifts her head and looks up, nothing is as it was. Clouds pour from the Temple's peak like fumes from a volcano, wind whipping her hair as she feebly gets to her feet, testing for broken bones and sore muscles. "It's Aurejin," she whispers, projecting the thought to Mira, and a flicker of hope forms --

But that hope is quickly dashed. Simon was going too far. The sense of evil is almost smothering, adding to her difficulty in breathing, and she grabs her ribs as she totters halfway toward Mira and Kyokusha, and then faces the Temple. Jarin's spirit was leaving his body, and Simon -- what was happening to him now? How could he not be called murderer in anyone's sense of the word. Cursing Mailyn's foolishness, Jessalyn fights back helpless tears and erupts in a cry as she slams into the wall's surface, determined to climb her way back up. "Sezirok! I'll kill you myself! You slay without thinking, with no scruples," she screams. "The Force -demands- justice from you!" She claws at the ziggurat's bricks, weak and crying, not even aware that the vibrodagger is still embedded in her shoulder to the hilt.

The cloud of Darkness that has been enveloping the planet for hours seems to get much heavier. The disturbances in the force have revealed another presence here. Darker and more powerfull than any of the fledgling force users near the temple have felt before. Simon and Jessalyn especially recognize it all too clearly.

Bacharan Valak, the scourge of Jedi. Responsible for the death and destruction of millions during his march to the pinnacle of Imperial power. He has been missing. Gone from the flow of the Force and news stories alike. He has appeared here, drawn by the same powers that have drawn all of the others here, directly or indirectly. The Force that binds all living things has called them all here for some still unknown climax.

Ripples through the force tell him another Jedi has fallen, this time at the hands of Simon Siezrok, the last Force user Valak has seen in some time. The one who has been working hard for the Darkness, slaying those who would poison themselves with teachings of the filthy Jedi Order.

Aurejin braces himself, touching the control at his chest to release the wings and pack and dive neatly to the surface of the temple. He could already make out the grim scene. The words of a challenge begin to form on his lips, but remain unvoiced, as Jarin is destroyed. The fool! There was no time to mourn the boy, or Harlock... who Aurejin had already sensed had undergone some great tragedy. Suddenly overwhelmed by a fount of black fire, Aurejin disappears into the column, a tangle of wings and foul energy, caustic smoke burning his skin. Still some fifteen or twenty meters up, Aurejin seems completely... gone. Then there is a metallic clang near Simon. It's Aurejin's repulsor pack, battered and superheated, and now in a thousand pieces. On the other side of the temple roof Aurejin appears, knifing high out of the sky feet first, poncho flapping hugely in the wind. He finds footing, lands in a crouch, hard, and watches. A retreat would be wise and timely, but if the others were nearby and alive, it would be more expeditious to dismantle Simon now. Licking his lips, an awed but undeterred and fully trained Jedi stands. His lightsaber comes alive in his hand, but remains pointed at the ground, looking tiny and insignificant: a sling stone against a giant of black fire. The Sith. Lines of smoke waft out of Aurejin's clothing and hair.

The wind was a hammer, leveling trees and moving heavy rocks and boulders the way a child might scatter toys in a tantrum. The wind, unnatural in its roiling, churning darkness, was a net cast to capture everything as far as the eye could see. The sun no longer blessed the visages of those near the ancient temple, banished back by the liquid night that rushed up from the point where Jarin had been slain. Quivering with unbridled rage and shaking from the movements of the quaking temple beneath him, Simon sits on his knees, the knife and heart thrust into the center of the pillar of black fire before him. He had given birth to something sinister. He was a part of it, and it gave him Power.

The volleys from Kyokusha's blaster fly up through all of the chaos and madness whipped up by this storm. It would not take much luck on Simon's side to keep those blasts from reaching him. Limbs from brittle branches flew in broad circles like kites around the temple. Dust and debris of other sorts clouded the path. Anything could have prevented the shots from reaching their target. Yet they fly true, ferocious energy biting into Simon's back in three places, opening craters in his flesh and rocking him with the force of the impact.

Gritting his teeth, Simon leans forward slightly, dipping deeper into the cone of foul energy. His eyes, misshapen into the form of a tiger's and glowing a burnished red, close for a moment, then open in Aurejin's direction, taking in the Jedi of old.

"Jedi," Simon utters, his voice a rasp. Blood runs down the side of Simon's mouth, a side effect of having blood vessels burst into his lungs from Kyokusha's attack. "You are too late."

Leaning back, Simon raises his left hand and points it toward Aurejin, Morganna's heart pounding there ferociously. An eerie, orange light begins to surround Simon's hand, the air superheating and then bursting into flame. Simon continues to bend backwards, and as he does, a smile spreads across his lips.

"Be blinded! Forever, Jedi!"

And with that, a splinter of that eerie orange light coalesces through Simon and is thrown out toward Aurejin. The wind howls its despair.

"It's Aurejin," is said aloud as the shadow passes overhead, echoing the words in her mind. A moment ago, with Jessalyn fallen and Harlock dead, Mira had found herself alone against a growing darkness. But with those words, she knew that she was not, that Jessalyn was alive, and that Aurejin was near.

This knowledge seems to give the girl some courage, for despite the howling wind and gathering clouds, Mira once again draws her lightsaber and steps forward towards the temple. For months, Mira had wrestled with the Simon problem. Jessalyn and Aurejin seemed convinced there was no solution but to destroy him. Yet Mailyn insisted he could be redeemed. The death of Orson had planted the first seeds of doubt. There was no question now, Simon must be destroyed.

Mira has no smart remarks for Simon, nor does she have any speeches about justice, or revenge. Instead, she steadily and silently fights against the wind and the rain, clinging to the mossy rocks as she climbs, making her way to the top of the temple. Simon had to die.

Mailyn had awoken to find that there was nobody on her ship. No sign of Mira, no sign of Jessalyn. A scan of the ships on the pad indicated the Firefight was here. This did not bode well. As Mailyn leaves her ship, she notices a strange orange light in the sky and an even stranger smell wafting in on the air. Swallowing her fear of being on this jungle world, on her own, Mailyn had begun to head in the direction of the temple. With a knife holstered in her boot, and a Kylan strapped to her side, Mailyn wasn't so much worried about the prowling beasts. This time she had them covered. Or so she hoped.

Mailyn has quietly made her way through growth and underbrush, whacking aside branches and overgrown plants with little patience. It has taken longer than she remembered to reach the temple. Well before she could see it, she could hear that something was happening, something very very wrong. The howling winds and the swirling crowds were not native to this place. Something ELSE was causing this disturbance. Mailyn was fearful of what it might be. Surely everyone is far too occupied to take notice of Mailyn as she comes upon this gathering. She herself can make no sense of it. There is a tailed woman shooting at..someone and Mira climbing the temple. It is some time before she casts her eyes upwards and a while longer to piece together what must be happening on the temple roof. Mailyn draws her blaster.

The blaster bolts hit which is a first the entire time. They /actually/ hit... not like they did anything. Seeing this, Kyo lowers her blaster. This was something far beyond technology.... something beyond nature itself. Kyo bites her lower lip, looking over to Jessalyn's vain attempt to climb the temple with Mira soon following. Then her eyes look further up to the roof. Hey! It's that one guy from the Cantina! How ill-timed would an exclamation like that be? Watching helplessly, Kyo notes the transformation in Simon and with everythig going on, she couldn't think of a time she felt more useless and helpless. She needed one of those lightsaber things. Use what you got.

In the darkness and the storm, it was hard for Kyo to think of anything. Why was she here? Why did she stick around? Why not just leave? This was obviously out of her league, but something in her wouldn't let her leave. Something that was raising her blaster once more towards the roof, towards Simon. A long time ago, he wasn't like this. Not like she knew Simon then, but what she did know was not what was before her. He has killed twice and now... a third stood before him. No... she can't let it happen again. Her trigger finger pulls rapid-fire, sending blast after blast towards Simon. A bite from the tinest bug may seem insignificant... but many of them could be deadly.

Something subtle amongst all the raging darkness that threatens to surround and subdue them comes to life as bright as a newborn star in Jessalyn's mind. Her pride in Mira grows as she realizes it's her new determination, sensing the surge in growth, and it dramatically calms her. The hysterical crying and cursing cease, and she steps back from the wall only long enough to seek out her lightsaber in her mind. It was there, having fallen off the Temple with her, and a moment later it's back in her hand and attached to her saber-belt befoore she hoists herself onto the wall.

Three of them here now. Enough of a price had been paid for their compassion and inaction. As the darkness mounts, another evil presence teases the edge of her perceptions. But the three of them stand out like vibrant flames to fight the darkness, and she takes smug pride in the efforts of the blonde, tailed female who adds her efforts to fight the obvious evil. It was their duty.

The wind and debris that churn in the swirling air make it all the more difficult for Jessalyn to climb the staggered stones of the ziggurat, yet she does so, sensing impending danger coming in from all fronts. She reaches Mira and climbs alongside her, ready, perhaps, to fight side by side with the younger Jedi in lightsaber combat for the first time.

The picture becomes more clear to him. Simon had butchered another of the Jedi's allies. What was left of the Jedi were closing in on him at the top of the temple. Darkness swirls around him, the power of it blowing some of the nearby jungle greenery around him like a wind. Creatures and insects leap over each other to get away. He is fueled by the emotions filling the air, the force bending to his will. Anger, hatred, the thirst for vengeance...and the escaping force essence of the dead Jedi. As Simon plunges further into the Darkness, he threatens to drag others with him.

All of this was terribly exciting to Valak. They wew slaughtering each other and he hardly had to lift a finger. The Jedi Order has seemingly been permenantly disabled, the Light Side still grappling to reclaim the political power it once had on it's side, the same political power the the Dark Side has consumed for now two generations of powerfull Masters. He lies in wait, knowing that he could still beat the Jedi to the top of the temple if he needed to.

In what proves to be a futile gesture, Aurejin catches the first of Simon's energetic assault on the edge of his saber. That effort delays the orange light for but a moment. What would destroy a normal man, or even a solid structure, is mostly absorbed and passed through the space where Aurejin stands. But there is a quiet yell and the tall, mighty Jedi falls to a knee, still enveloped in the flame, a hand pressed to his face. As the assault ends, Aurejin is still there, alive but burned roughly, and blind, shaking his head as if to clear some awful sight from his eyes. But there is nothing, and the man stands shakily. Squint. "What treachery is this?" Aurejin turns his face to the sky and opens his eyes. Pure white orbs are bathed in tears, pupil-less eyes rotating sickly, searcing for -anything- to lock onto.

He holds out his sword hand unsteadily, pointing the tip of his weapon uneeringly at Simon. His voice garbled and wet with blood, Aurejin speaks. "My sight comes from the Force. It is... well enough to see the monster you have become." And he steps forward. The first step is tentative.

The next step is more sure, and then the saber is lifted as Aurejin begins to stride, the tall man closing the distance to strike.

Volley after volley is fired by Kyokusha from the ground. With the swirling maelstrom of debris and destruction surrounding the pillar, most of the blasts are absorbed well before they reach their target this time. But a few still make it through. One blast catches the back of Simon's shoulder, melting the flesh and exposing bone. Another buries itself in Simon's side, shaking him where he kneels.

It might as well have been someone else's body, as far as Simon was concerned. He had made it this far, and the Jedi were coming closer. The trap had been set.

That Aurejin still stood was puzzling, but not beyond the scope of Simon's plans. The heart was the source of that attack. Flames and hatred had been seeped into it by Morganna long ago, and that hatred and power, infused by the black energy still pouring unabated out of the top of the temple, gave it the potency to kill. The flames of Morganna's existence hadn't destroyed Aurejin, but he'd been blinded in truth. It was a perfect precursor to the blindness that was yet to come.

Raising the heart and dagger into the air again, Simon gives a shout, the next chant rining out, part of the ritual. The shaking temple quivers like a bell struck, and with a sound like thunder, the foundation gives way. Slowly, as if consumed by the moon of Yavin, the temple begins to descend, collapsing in on itself. The roof remains in tact, floating above the destruction like a leaf in a fast moving stream. It was almost completed. Nature itself wept with worry and fear.

Slowly, but without hesitation, without question, Mira's fingers and feet find the right cracks in the temple sides. Joined by Jessalyn, their ascent continues despite the powerful winds and the heat from the black flames above. Despite the mental turmoil brought about by the coalescence of so much darkness on this small moon. Despite the lurking feeling in the back of Mira's head that there was more-worse?- yet to come.

However, as the ritual continues, and the shaking grows and finally reaches a resonance point, splitting the foundation, Mira finds that it is very difficult to climb to the top of a temple that soon will not have a top. Reaching the ledge of one of the enormous rocky steps that lead to the top of the temple, Mira bends her knees and pushes off from the ground, leaping through the air, towards the acrid smoke turning the air thick and black above. Whether on purpose or a miscalculation due to fatigue, Mira's jump seems to send her careening directly towards Simon.

There is a sense of dread. There is wild, panicked desperation. This awful moon was alive with something so evil it was tangible. It insinuated itself into the lives of good people and turned them one on the other. Something here had stolen Markus' eyes. That same thing had stolen reason from Simon. And it was not done with them. Not by a long shot.

The Jedi are here. Simon is here. And so this is what Simon had told her of...what he needed to do. Something had possessed him to do terrible things. Something had once possessed Jessalyn as well, but she had not come under this same vicious attack. It did not seem to Mailyn that Simon had things as in control as he had told her he would. She berates herself for not pushing him to reveal more of his plan to her. It seemed to her that he was so wrong about so many things. There were things Simon was right about too. But it was much too late for that. The Jedi were attacking him, and he them. How much destruction did there have to be to satisfy the blood lust that was obviously borne of a connection to the True Source, the Force, whatever you wanted to call it? Perhaps they would all destroy one another and it would be over. Perhaps this would be for the best. At least this time it is not innocents being massacred like on Tatooine.

Mailyn watches in abject horror as the temple begins it's collapse. If she had not already lost Simon, she surely would as a result of this attack. Horrible. It is a scene from a nightmare. It is her worst fears realized. And she is helpless. She knows the Jedi's agenda, and she knows Simon's as well. There is no middle ground here. Now it is too late for the one thing Mailyn thought could prevent tragedy. Cursing herself for helping him escape the CDU, Mailyn blames herself for this sickening scene playing itself out before her. Why had she slept? Why had she come here too late. Helpless. Or perhaps not so helpless. Not sure who the tailed woman is shooting at, Mailyn has a gut hunch that she should try to stop her. Approaching the woman from behind, with her own gun drawn, Mailyn speaks firmly. "You! You with the tail! Stop shooting! There are too many people there...tell me what is happening, but stop shooting, or I'll shoot you as I stand here!" Mailyn flips the Kylan to stun.

The blasts were doing nothing and Kyo knew this. She was merely wasting the energy. The storm was raging on, pushing Kyo backwards. Something bad was happening... duh. Kyo wasn't the last to know, but she's the least to understand. Everyone else had that whole advantage, but that didn't deter her. Nope... the storms and crumbling temple did. Kyo backs away as the temple crumbles carrying four Force Sentative people with it. There was... nothing she could do. Did that mean she was leaving? Oh, hell no. As the drama unweilds itself before her, Kyo holds her breath as she backs away from the temple.

Aurejin is blinded, Mira and Jessalyn were falling beneath very heavy legos, Simon was slipping further and further away from natural possibilities, and Kyo? Kyo was the oddball. She was still backing away, but as she does, the blaster raises again and she begins firing up at Simon again, regardless of the storm's protection. Then, the woman's voice breaks into her mind and Kyo jerks around, growling. "Figure it out. It's not that hard." Yeah... Kyo was a little bit miffed. After witnessing two murders and this woman is stopping her from killing the murderer. Flicking her tail and glaring at the room with a blood-strained face, she turns to the side and starts running the best she care. However... /thud./ She runs into something soft and warm. She staggers back, dizziness nearly taking her over as she stands, disorientated.

Panic threatening to overtake her, Jessalyn feels the structure she's precariously clinging begin to shudder, and she glances at Mira, gathering strength instinctually from the Force in times of such danger. The same instinct takes hold of her, and she, too, springs upward, heedless of muscles and cracked bones that protest the exertion. Still, the Force lifts her up, and she seems to almost swim upstream of the collapsing wall, reaching the apex in time to roll into a crouch with her lightsaber already extended, braced for impact as she takes in the awful, unfolding scene.

Blaster in hand as she tears into the woods, the betailed Jedi runs headlong into Bacharan Valak. He is barely jostled as he bounces off of him and tumbles to the ground at his feet. The Force powers that have been whirling around him and even taking a bluish color as the powers of the Force continue to collect around him and manifest themselves in streaks fo light.

The sounds of rocks breaking and crashing around each other as the temple begins to implode. The cloud of rubble is already beginning as rocks that have been standing for untold generations turn to dust. Over those sounds though his voice is clear to the being now at his feet, "Jedi," is all he says as the power of the Dark Side emanating from Valak become apparent to Kyokusha.

Aurejin's corner of the roof is the first to dip downward, and in that moment he's hustling forward more to keep his balance on this turvy top than to close the distance to Simon. His footing gives way as the temple where he's standing dissolves into coarse gravel, and the tall man seems to sink swiftly into the rock floor.

Aurejin is suddenly hanging, one hand gripping a more solid stone support column, eyes wild and white but offering no help. His other hand still holds a glowing lightsaber at his side. The Jedi's feet swing back and forth dangerously... perhaps unaware of the great distance between them and the solid, unsettled, and craggy mass of ruined temple below. Aurejin grunts, flexing the hanging arm to test his grip and ready himself for a difficult climb, even as this world seems to come apart around him.

The top of the ziggurat was now on a level with the surrounding ground. Black flame, a foul manifestation of what the Jedi called the Dark Side of the Force, still poured up from where the body of Jarin had been. With the destruction of the temple, the corpse had been rolled away from Simon. Simon himself had not been dislodged from his spot, still on his knees, holding to the stone beneath him. He was a part of the storm. He was a part of the ritual, a component bringing this recipe for Force blindness to its culmination.

Even before the broken structure settles, and the cloud of debris and dust still billowing out, Mira sours towards Simon like an avenging angel, terrible and deadly. The winds still blowing strong gusts whipped her hair back, and gave her the illusion of a deadly predator pouncing on unsuspecting prey. Simon was partially turned away from her, his attention still directed toward where Aurejin had stood before getting caught up in the destruction of the temple.

Mira's foot collides with Simon's back, and the Selas is pushed forward. His chanting continues, but the arm that held the dagger is thrust more deeply into the black flame. Simon's voice takes on a quality of concentration and barely held in check pain as that arm is melted, wilted as if by the passing of a hundred years in a split second. What visible skin can be seen turns a sickly grey, until it turns to dust, revealing bone that was white, as if bleached in the sun. The bone disintegrates as well, and with it, Simon's voice returns to the same dark tones it had held before, as though the pain had been lifted.

Still chanting, Simon shifts his position to face Mira and Jessalyn. He raises the heart, his left hand trembling now with the effort. That sick, orange light coalesces around him once more, and the fire that Morganna once wielded jets forth, a stream of fiery destruction directed toward the Jedi Witch and her apprentice.

After colliding with Simon, Mira hesitates, half surprised that she had made contact at all and half captivated, yet horrified, by what happens to his arm as it descends into the flame. Another violent shake as the temple continues to fall throws the girl backwards, towards where Jessalyn had landed. Her eyes never leave Simon though, and as he turns towards them, and the light begins to grow around him, the girl turns and ducks, pulling the hood of her cloak up to protect herself.

If Mira's cloak had been grubby before, it is nothing to compare to it after being licked by the flames. The cloth catches fire in some places, searing her back and arms as it burns. Whatever does not burn away, is left covered in soot and ash. Mira herself chokes on the hot air as it washes past, and is left feeling as if she has inhaled a demon intent on strangling her from the inside.

Rooted to the spot, paralyzed by fear and shock, it is difficult to comprehend everything that is swirling around her. At least the woman had stopped shooting. Figure it out? Mailyn was way ahead on that one. She knew just what was happening here. She just cannot accept or believe it. But the power of what swirls around her is relentless. There is not escaping it, even for one who could not touch the True Source.

Mailyn loses her footing in the tumult of the collapsing temple, and soon finds herself lying on the ground, looking level with what had been the roof of the temple. Simon is there. Aurejin. Mira. Jessalyn. But none of them are recognizable as the people Mailyn knew them as. This evil thing that lived here had transformed them all. It was a curse.

The storm that surrounds them, the orange light that bathes them, to Mailyn it is a scene that burns into her memory. A hoarse cry is ripped from her throat as Simon is consumed and disfigured by the flame. It could not end this way. They couldn't have him. The evil that resided here wouldn't claim him either. Deaf from all the screaming, and nearly blinded by the light, Mailyn can't tell where her screams stop and everyone else's begin. Hoping to put an end to his misery, hoping to help him the only way she possibly could now, Mailyn tries to steady her gun with both hands. If only she had thought to take the thing off stun. She fires again and again and again.

Staggering back in a daze, Kyo falls to her rear, her poor tail getting sprained in the fall. Funny, she was thrown off the temple and the tail survived. She falls on her butt... sprain! Putting a hand to her head, she shakes it a few times, groaning. "Oh... ow..." The trail of blood down her face from her forehead had dried up and slowed, but the impact reopens it and she feels the blood trailing down once more. Now came the task of refinding her feet. Bending a knee up, Kyo braces a hand on it, ready to stand. However... a voice breaks into the chaos, forcing her attention.

Tiling her head back suddenly, Kyo gasps sharply to the figure standing above her. In the mists of all this magical energy, it almost made Kyo feel like she was a part of it... but to be called Jedi? The woman goes to note that she wasn't even remotely Force Sensative as far as she knew, but something else demands to be said. The realization of who the man was was too much. Pushing her feet underneath her, Kyo stands unsteadily. "Valak..." she growls, narrowing her eyes to him as if they were long-time enemies. The fact was, this was their first meeting, but it may have well been a bitter reunion.

The roof beneath Jessalyn's feet tilts roughly, sending Aurejin to dangle off the side. She clings to her footing, but keeping her position had a dangerous cost: she's struck by the fiery energy and reels backwards, knocking into Mira whom she steadies, patting out smoldering spots on the girl's robe. It was decided, and the knot in Jessalyn's throat grows as she looks into her apprentice's eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers, wishing she could make up for all the pain Simon had brught especially to Mira, and for the consequences of it. They had both denied, delayed, been betrayed again and again. But this kind of Darkness could not continue to live.

Pivoting on one leg, the Jedi turns and lunges directly onto Simon, limbs locking him into a deadly embrace that sends them both directly into the fuming Black Pillar spewing like a fountain in the center of the doomed ziggurat's roof. She feels her flesh flayed and burned from her bones and screams, but never releases the Selas from her grip.

The debris from the crumbling towers fills the air. Rocks ranging from dust to stones to small boulders fall from the sky. Acrid smoke and stench beging to blur the air. Terror fills this small corner of this small moon which has held the balance of the universe in it's hands more than once.

Valak doesn't bother to respond with pleasantries. He already realizes what he has stumbled across is inconsequential. He shakes his left arm free from underneath the cloak he is wearing, it's length of exquisite material billowing in the ebb and flow of Force energies around him. Reaching within himself and into the Dark abyss, the entergies intensify and flow into him. He begins to levitate off the ground by a few inches, the incredible power bending the possible. He almost even seems to glow as the power overcomes him.

Blue streaks of electricity seems to flow down his left arm and crackle around his fingertips before it is released. His eyes are filled with anger, narrowed with focus. The Force is his servant. A crisp clap of thunder tears through the air as the bolts of electricity rip from his fingertips and tear through the air and into the fallen rebel, "You are no Jedi," he says after a moment. His voice cracked with anger and strain of the power he commands. "You are here by your own poor chance." He begins to laugh, a most frightening of sounds.

Aurejin closes his useless eyes. Whatever dark magic Simon was wielding was too powerful, too awesome, and had to be stopped before it did... before what? Before they all died at his hand and his bloodlust was stoked to system-wide proportions? Was he aware of those techniques? Was he that powerful? Those possibilities he could not accept. Aurejin's flesh was the Force's to use, and with no exterior change to signal the difference, Aurejin opens himself to its guiding presence. It floods into his tired body and mind, bringing alertness and strength, a slight and almost silent whisper just barely audible through the overwhelming scream of Simon's brash experiments. As the Force builds around Aurejin, the rest of his handhold gives way and Aurejin falls along with the rest of the temple, surfing the shifting pile of rock, slashing twice at rough outcroppings before he has to collapse his weapon lest it be pushed into his own body. The Jedi is deposited miraculously into the clearing, uniformly dusty and gray except where rust soaks his skin.

He clambers to his feet and *feels* his way ahead. So much distance! He jumps once, twice, and makes his way back up the pile, moving slowly and stealthily now at Simon's back but still too far to divide or conquer him. But then something goes wrong. Jessalyn. A flash of life, suddenly obscured by the black column of Dark Side power. Gone? Aurejin gasps silently, hurries ahead wordlessly to flank the lost Selas.

The ritual was complete, and the last dark words are uttered by Simon in a ragged voice. It was amazing that he had any voice left at all, with the holes in his back from Kyokusha's blaster. It was amazing that he was still upright at all, with his right arm gone, his left nearly severed, with yet another serious lightsaber wound marring his right thigh. His body was broken, but his spirit was strong, his dedication enduring.

What Simon could not account for was the equally enduring persistence of the Jedi. That which Simon had wrought in this place was a powerful force, its power only rivaled by the love that Jessalyn felt for her apprentice.

As Mailyn's blaster rings out, the sound of its discharge fighting the wind that whipped at her without mercy, Simon is caught for a moment in wonder, knowing just before the inevitable that he was about to die. His life was well spent; the Jedi would be cut off from what they called the Force. Their hold on the galaxy, the strings with which they puppeted the galaxy, would be severed. He was the arrow sent by the True Source to bring down the foul beast that was the Jedi, and he had struck true.

Mailyn's stun blasts take Simon in the gut, the face, his remaining arm. Consciousness constricts, and his breathing slows. Then Jessalyn's body collides with his, her sacrifice in order to save her apprentice. Overpowered and broken, Simon is unable to stop Jessalyn from taking them both into the fount from his his dark ritual was to be born from. Unable to stop her, they are both cast into the flame.

It's then that Simon learns a new definition of suffering.

The explosion of dark energy that was about to spread out from that spot, cutting all those nearby off from the Force, is absorbed by Simon and Jessalyn in that moment. Without the True Source, Simon is unable to keep the pain at bay. His determination, though strong, is inconsequential next to the searing pain of having his body aged and withered by powers he could no longer control or even feel. Every ounce of fat within his body is boiled to nothingness, and his skin sags on his bones, the muscle weakened to jelly. One of his eyes, no longer slotted like a cat's, evaporates as it is consumed by the dark fire. The flames that had been borne of his anger and rage lick at Jessalyn, burning her with him, but it is Simon himself that is enveloped more strongly, more thoroughly.

The storm ends. Morganna's heart, which had taken on a life of its own, ceases to beat. The wind dies, and the unnatural clouds begin to lighten and dissipate. A Yavin sunset bursts through the clouds, bathing the scene in a rich, golden light. Simon Sezirok breathes smoke and dust, only barely alive. The forces of Light had prevailed over the Darkness that he had summoned.

Sorry? Sorry for what? Mira looks at Jessalyn with confusion before her friend turns and she understands what she is about to do. "Je-..N-..," the girl stammers, taking a step after the Jedi and reaching out a hand to stop her. But then she stops. They had to stop him. This was the only way, and Jessalyn had chosen to sacrifice herself for her and Aurejin. "Force bewith you," Mira murmurs, her outstretched hand withdrawing to cover her mouth, to hold back the sobs that were welling up deep within her.

As Jessalyn and Simon enter the flames, Mira stands fixated, looking but not watching, hearing but not listening, as the gory scene unfolds and the bodies of her friends are scorched, burned, and melted. Finally, she is able to look no more, and she averts her eyes, now full of tears towards Aurejin as he approaches. And then, as quickly as the stormclouds had come pouring out of Jarin's body, they began to dissipate, and the clearing is draped in sunlight. In the distance, a bird chirps. "She did it to save us."

Mailyn stops firing the Kylan when it is spent of all it's charges. She winces and cries out with each blast that hits him, but she cannot stop firing. As it dawns on her what it is she is doing, what it is she has done, the Kylan is tossed aside. She cannot stop trembling. It is so horrific she cannot take it all in. She is blinded to the agony of the others by the anguish she feels for Simon. "NO! NO!" Mailyn drags her hands through her hair pulling out clumps of hair. "NO! NO!" She gets up off the grounds, and stumbles toward where Simon, what was left of Simon, lay. Blinding tears fill her eyes and cascade down her cheeks. The horror of it. Staring blindly, Mailyn pleads with nobody, with anybody, with herself. "NO! HELP HIM..please...it is this PLACE! THIS PLACE!" Somewhere Mailyn knew she had done the right thing, but it did not feel like it now.

Mailyn collapses to the ground. The rays of the sun kiss her hair and warm her back. She cannot feel it. Only hollowness. Only darkness. Simon was gone. Gone. Likely others were as well, certainly Jessalyn, but Mailyn didn't care. It was because of Jessalyn this whole thing had started. Love gone wrong. And they had never truly stopped loving each other, so perhaps that they would go together was a blessing. Perhaps in time Mailyn would understand, accept even, but now all she feels is the agonizing pain and emptiness of inevitable loss.

There is one thing she is sure of. To touch the True Source was a curse. To have your life touched by someone cursed was also a curse. Simon had paid a huge price, a price she had, in some part exacted. But now it was over.

The happenings on the roof get Kyo's attention and she is frozen, staring at the unholy scene. No... no... no, this can't be happening! If only she knew the names of those up there aside from Simon. She would be screaming for them now, but she was screaming now. Something unatural. A roar erupting from the woman's throat as she speaks loudly in a language unknown by those around her. A dead language, killed with her planet so many years ago. Only in times of over-whelming emotion did it take over and with tears in her eyes, it was all that could be heard from her aside from the sobs and howls. The scene was gruesome... nightmarish... traumatizing. And there was nothing she could do. Nothing.. NOTHING! She couldn't even wake up.

Then... Valak re-enters the picture. More to pile on. Kyo's violet eyes widen, her tail fluffing up just slightly, though still sprained. As the man before her levitates, Kyo can do nothing but back up. Blaster still in hand, she shakily raises it to fire at the man, but it's cut off short. The lightning comes from the man's fingertips and then she remembers... the Sith.... the power. What they called the Dark Side. It burned like no other power should burn and for a moment, Kyo could only imagine the seering pain the funnel of hell on the roof caused. Still, to Kyo, the lightning was enjoy to bring her to her knees. The foreign language is gone and all that is heard is a powerful, shaking roar of pain. The blaster falls from her hands and as it hits the ground, so does Kyo. The lightning was a pain she will never forget and she almost begs Valak to stop, but not only would the words not form, they weren't even possible in her mind. All she could think of was the pain... the pain... And when the lightning stops, she lays there on her back, phasing in and out of consciousness.

Down at the bottom of the temple there's a lot of rubble just lying there. Somewhere in there the man known as Markus Lisardis lies buried. After the fight with Jessalyn, the Jedi managed to knock down the former Jedi sending a lot of rubble his way.

Just as Simon takes the brunt of the explosion of dark energy there's movement from the rubble. It starts just as a little trembling. Then there's a crushing sound as the rubble starts to shift more violently.

Until all of the sudden, a bunch of rubble goes flying and a hand pushes through. The hand is clawing, reaching out. << Simon.... >> a thought is formed through the special bond between Simon and Markus Lisardiers. << Brother... >> another thought.

The hand disappears, and comes out again this time as a fist and more rubble is thrown around. Very slowly the blind man known as Markus Lisardis digs himself out of what some would have considered his grave.

The Light may have prevailed this day, but the Darkness will always lie in wait.

Pain. That was that feeling coursing through the scrawny form of Lucky as he stirs slowly. His jade eyes blinks open slowly as he flexes first his fingers and then his legs. Feeling the debris upon him, Lucky proceeds to push it away. His clothes were tattered from the collapse of the temple. A bleeding scratch was on his face from where the sharpnel had hit him. Lucky rises unsteadily to his feet, one hand moving to stem the flow of blood from one arm as he frantically searches for the sight of his 'father'. The sight that bestook him stunned the boy for a short moment before he crouches down, scrambling for a piece of weapon. Anything to use at all. His hands gripped a rock from the debris and he prepares.

The lightning stops. Valak looks up, to the center of the recently destroyed temple. Another life has ended, but this time it was different. His eyes widen, now realizing that he is outnumbered by Light Siders. No matter, he has been in worse situations before, and none of them can match is power. He reaches out into the Force and touches Jessalyn, his long time nemesis. The Jedi had proven to be quite a nuisance, and now she has seen to the end of another of his allies.

Filled with the power of the Dark Side, he crouches down, tilting his head upwards to make sure his path is clear. He leaps into the darkness of night, leaving the shocked form of Kyokusha, wisps of smoke trailing from her bushy tail and scorched form. The threat was elsewhere.

He bounds through the air, his black cape flowing out behind him, seemingly guiding his flight. The cape flares up behind him as he coasts down gently, landing not far from the last of the remaining Jedi. "This battle is not over yet, Jedi," he says verbally and sends the message clearly through the Force.

There was no time to expect the pain that coursed through every nerve of Jessalyn's body once she sends herself and the maddened Selas into the current of dark energy. Certainly the sudden explosion of power was not expected. The flames lick at her body, lifting her hair in wild currents and consuming flesh and clothing. But as Simon practically burns to nothing before her eyes, she is somehow spared, the Darkness taking its due from the corrupted heart of Darkness rather than from her.

The black cloak Jessalyn had worn covers the crumpled place where her body finally falls. Only then does she let go of whatever is left of Simon. But the mass of cloak moves, if only slightly, a charred hand reaching out to claw at the rubble.

Aurejin throws an arm to his face as a matter of reflex as Simon and Jessalyn are consumed. Though the process has inflicted trauma on him, his sight now is more pervasive and better for seeing than eyes ever were. He closes the distance to the near lifeless corpses. "Mmm," he intones, going to a knee, stretching out a hand to Jessalyn. The Jedi's hand recoils at the texture of Jessalyn, burnt and horrible, but he grasps her lightly. "Jessalyn?" he calls. Then he calls her in a more profound way, seeking a touch with her heart in some empathetic fashion that Aurejin usually found wasteful and crude. Now though... it seemed a gesture of respect almost, to affirm the stout-hearted Jessalyn in her preferred fashion. "Rest now. You've carried the day."

The Jedi lifts his head, blank stare swivelling toward the distant show of ugly Force lightning. "Mira... you've got to get her out..." But that is cut off as Aurejin, blind but full of Force and bristling, is up to face this new threat. His weapon comes to life, and the Jedi steps forward boldly to Valak. "Ah, another maligned megalomaniac to dispatch. Very well. On your guard?" The tall man shuffle steps - but leaps - to the attack.

Darkness consumed Simon. His breathing was labored and shallow. There wasn't a single square inch of his body that was not bruised or burned. He lived still, perhaps because the forces of Nature were reviled to the point where they would not take him into their custody.

Though cut off from the True Source, though consciousness was but a dream to him, there still existed a fragment of the bond that lay between he and the blinded Corellian. A thought forms at Markus's summons, malformed in its birth. <<...go... live...>>

With that, Simon slips deeper into his coma, life but a busy dream beyond his reach.

Kyo's consciousness was unstable and unforgiving. She lay there silently, burnt and bleeding. She was better off than others, but considering the Force wasn't with her as others, she was pretty bad off. Paralyzed, scared and unable to move, Kyo stares up at the sky. The sun shines through again. The eyes of the woman aren't all to focused as neither is her mind. Still... among all the trauma, she thinks 'How will I get back...?' The bigger question would be how could she sleep. Jedi, Sith, alien, human... they were all creatures and she's seen some things today that should never been seen or experienced by anyone or anything. The Force... what was it, really? How could something have both extremes? Extreme evil and extreme good? Is there no balance? A grey against the white and black? Through the trauma was arising an obsession. To learn just what she had witnessed. The power that had surrounded her... helped her... hurt her. Those that master it... those who don't. Kyo's eyes start to close as shock takes over her body and with her head lulling to one side, Kyo is out cold.

Mira rushes forward towards Jessalyn's collapsed body and drops to her knees next to her burned friend. Kneeling next to her, she hears the dark voice of Valak in her mind. Though she had never met him, what he was was clear, and her eyes turn to follow Aurejin's to light upon the dark figure standing in the clearing. Nodding at Aurejin's instructions, Mira takes Jessalyn's hand and says, "You're going to be okay now."

"Is he alive?" Mira asks, eyeing Simon's limp form. Her voice is gentle, and the girl sounds genuinely concerned for him, yet underneath she is torn as to what to do should the answer be affirmative. Simon looked so helpless and defeated lying there, his body ruined, that she could not help feeling some sympathy for him. Making a bold, and perhaps foolhardy decision, she offers, "We could get him some help..."

Desperate. Desperate. Did he still breathe? Was there hope? " YES! please...You have to help him!" She pleads. "What kind of people are you? PLEASE! When Jessalyn was possessed, more people died and you helped her!

You can't leave him here. PLEASE..." Mailyn rises unsteadily to her feet. Was there anything to save? There is nothing she can do for Simon, and shedding tears won't help him. She reaches for her Kylan, lying not so far away, and for the knife sheathed in her boot. These she brandishes feeblely.  "Please..."

Valak was here. Mailyn was dimly aware of the man's presence. She knew that after the duel with Orson, it was Valak Morganna had brought him to. Valak who had healed him of most of those terrible wounds. But Mailyn cannot allow that again. For some reason she wants to trust the ones who she'd brought here. Despite the fact that they had been the instruments of destruction. And he theirs.

It was Mailyn herself who had brought this about. She'd known and she'd not stopped it. And now, and now death was a blessing Simon was denied. The effort of holding the weaponry makes Mailyn's muscles shake. Her pleas become keening, a sound starting low in her throat. "Please...please..." Slowly Mailyn forces herself to look at what is left of Simon. She still cannot take it in, the horrible smoldering remains, the stench of burning flesh. She'd only smelled it once before - on an Imperial ship- and it had been her own flesh. It was no less sickening when it was someone else's. "If you won't help him, at least help him by finishing this. No one deserves this. NOBODY."

Finally Markus completes to dig himself out. He takes a deep breath, his sightless eye sockets regading the surroundings. << As you wish... Brother >> he sends the feeling towards Simon just as he becomes a blur of movement, reaching into the True Source to give himself strength. There was something he needed to do before leaving.

Finding Lucky.

And thus the man starts moving with the grace of a predator, an interesting feat for someone that is supposedly blind. He could of course feel the presence of others through the Force, the True Source but all that mattered to him was following his Brother's instructions. There will be time for retribution later. Oh yes, there will be.

Coming face to face with the man that you've spent months with or what is left with him can be a shock to an adult, much less a teenager like Lucky. Tears. Boys does not cry. Or do they? A tear slowly creeps its way down the young boy's face as he continues to stare at the fallen figure of Simon. All others was inconsequential at that moment. They killed him! Just like his parents. Dead. Everyone died. The anguish was clear on the young boy's face. Whatever that Simon did, he had treated him well and for once...almost like family. It was all gone now.

The boy made his decision. Gripping tightly to the rock in his hands, Lucky reels back and tosses the rock as hard as he can at Mira's unprotected head.

DIE! EVIL!

Though there is agony in the touch of Aurejin's hand on her own burned one, it is the only comfort that Jessalyn can find, that and Mira's worried voice around her. Was she alive? The pain was so all-consuming, she couldn't focus on anything else.

Still, she knows. It's impossible not to suddenly be so absolutely Force-blind and not notice it. She has no strength to mourn or question, but it only adds to her pain.

Still, Aurejin and Mira were safe and alive. Simon had been stopped. She can hear Mailyn screaming for him, but hardly cares as waves of endorphins kick in, her body going into shock as she sleeps from consciousness.

He laughs, "You would challenge me?" His left hand ducks under his cloak and pushes it aside. He unclips the cylindrical device attached to his belt. He holds it in his hand but does not activate it. "I might even give you a fighting chance, and duel you with the tool of the Jedi," he offers generously.

The two stand not far from each other in the pile of rubble. Acrid smoke still fills the air with the odor of burning flesh and crushed stone. The two tall humans stand facing each other, the humanity collapsing all around them is of no consequence. Suddenly it is as if nothing matters but the two of them.