Title: Order 66: The Temple
Summary: The destruction of the Jedi Temple through the eyes of a rather unusual pupil.
A/N: I am thinking of doing several of these, following Jedi we didn't see in the montage in the film. Those who die, and maybe even a couple might survive!
Rating: Same as the Movie
Disclaimer: NOT MINE! Well OK some of it is mine, but Star Wars does not belong to me - however much I wish it did!
There is grayness around me, inside me. It seems soft to me, nebulous and yet strong, it shields me. It holds me close and whispers that everything will be alright. It is wrong. With that thought a lance of darkness reaches through the light. I am being summoned.
Without hesitation I answer, I am in a dark room, my feet are bound beneath me. I shudder and feel the iciness of recognition slide down my spine. My people were primitive and superstitious, my ancestors had boarded spacecraft and left our home, terrified of the sickness that technology had caused on our home planet.
In the 'new world' they had returned to an older way of life with strict guidelines and a religious zeal to everyday life. Thus as a small infant they had called meHaspieth- it meant witch. My birth into the First Family of our clan was seen as an omen, some said a good one, and others said a bad one. As a child my vision's had saved lives, then they called me Latihe - bearer of good news.
I was a hero, but then the fire in the sky came. The droids had come, the 'ones without souls' as my people had called them and they had killed many, those they didn't killed were locked in steel pens like animals. Many of my people died. I was one of the unlucky few who managed to survive, my gifts had saved me.
And made the deaths of the others my fault. Those who survived from my clan were angry, they felt I had caused the evil in some way and they trussed me up like some animal and would have killed me. In my vision I see it again, the moment I was rescued: bright blue eyes shining through the darkness, a halo of light around him as he carried me away, around him soldiers in white who seemed to me at the time to be like one great mind fired bright weapons. I had been afraid, I felt the arm around my shoulders through the cloth- it was not human, it was metal and dead.
Slowly the vision fades until all I can sense is that cold arm, it is wrapped around me as I fall back into the grey void, this time it's not gentle. It is cold and hard and unforgiving, it hurts where cold fingers grip me. Suddenly fear surges through me, It is coming from outside, a trained, mind screams out in agony and then vanishes. I gasp and the grey around me fades away.
The small room was barely lit by the soft lamps on the walls around the circular divan on which the young Jedi sat. Kylian Jool shivered as she shifted from her seated position. Something was very wrong. It was in her flesh that she felt it, the same cold unease she had felt in the days before the Clone War had reached her small world. Slowly she stretched her stiff limbs and looked and thumbed the control for the blinds in the meditation chamber. With the softest of mechanical whirrs they shifted open.
Outside the midday brightness she had shut out had long since vanished, replaced by a softer, colder artificial light as Coruscant hummed with life in the night. Kylian's grey eyes stared out into that light, seeking the source of her unease, her eyes swept over the senate apartment buildings and gaming halls, coming to rest instead on the senate building. Something is wrong. She reached out and instantly felt a blackness, a hole in the force, a place of darkness. She pulled back as though burnt by that darkness. But not soon enough another cry of death flows through the force. Another Jedi dead.
A Jedi very close to her. In the Senate building. A voice tells her. But that couldn't be possible… It should not be possible. In the darkness she waited, knowing somehow what she would sense before it came, yet another face crying out in abrupt terror. This time she feels the darkness near it, it is stretching, expanding- growing stronger as the presences of light were thrown from life. Suddenly the meditation room is too small too cold, the metal is dead and somehow dangerous.
Some instinct within reared up and took over as she turned on her heel and almost ran to the door, she slapped the control and the door slid open to reveal a corridor in soft greys and off whites, soothing colors normally but not just then. Kylian can feel adrenalin beginning to slip into her system as the force prodded her into action. She began to run her soft footsteps seemed very loud in the nearly deserted corridors, those whom she raced past were mostly younglings and they looked at her with a mixture of fear and weariness, running Jedi usually meant another battle, a vital piece of information, more death. The other Padawan's her own age seemed to urge her on with their eyes as they followed her progress through the halls. As she passed each face she would search it.
She had to find someone who she could tell. 'Tell what?' asked part of her mind, she didn't know what she was doing, she was only fifteen after all, her two and a half years in the temple had been strange, she would never become a Jedi, that she had been told in the beginning, and though her fierce eyed rescuer had argued long and hard all she had been allowed was to stay in the temple while the war continued so that she could be taught to control her visions and impulse's.
'And you're displaying that control really well now Kylian'. She thought to her self as she turned a corner and began leaping down a set of stairs six or seven at a time, several heads turned to watch her leap with the grace of a dancer down the stairs. She paused at the bottom, waiting the barest transitory moment for the force to pull again, it did, she ran to the small mess hall on the level, inside she knew the children would be just settling down to dinner. The doors burst open ahead of her, she didn's feel herself push them open but she must have, her feet carried her over the threshold and into the room, dozens of faces turn to stare, forks hang in mid air and words are left unfinished as the children turn to stare.