Trial of Spirit/Part 1

The heat was unbearable as the young Zabrak stood in the center of a massive inferno. All around him, fires raged as the hisses of lightsaber clashes and battle cries filled the destroyed chamber. Karalin Tak-Crai’uz panted as sweat quickly and consistently rolled down the side of his face, the height of his awareness at its limit as his eyes anxiously darted all around the place.

The Sith showed no remorse as they kept on coming, wave by wave. Karalin was already growing weary as he gripped the hilt of his blue-bladed lightsaber so hard, his knuckles turned white. Every time he blinked, he could see the same image before him as the light of thousands of fires and lightsabers blinded his eyes. It was an impossibility to take in the entire scene—his mind was so clouded with anxiety and fear that he was certain he wouldn’t make it out alive.

And yet still his determination forced him onward.

Here comes another, Karalin thought as a black-cloaked Sith rushed him. Readying himself by adjusting his form, he watched the other man’s actions with delicacy. His instincts guided his own actions as he predicted the Sith’s next move. He swung. Karalin ducked beneath the swipe and in an instant thrust his lightsaber upwards, straight through the torso of the dark acolyte. A grunt of pain escaped the Sith before he collapsed to the ground, a steaming, gaping hole straight through his gut and out his back.

Karalin stood over the corpse, gazing down at it a moment before returning his attention to the battle around him. He and several other Jedi survivors were now pinned against one of the walls of the Jedi Temple foyer. Behind them was an exit to the rest of the Temple, although the Sith were quickly moving into position to cut the Jedi off. The only other exits were across the huge chamber, and the main entrance to the Temple, which had been destroyed some time ago when the Sith deliberately crashed a shuttle into it.

Karalin spotted a human Jedi hacking away at a Sith several yards away. He watched as his master finished off the Sith with relative ease. “Master Alric!” Karalin called out to his master, his voice becoming hoarse from hours and hours of constant fighting.

The Jedi turned in Karalin’s direction, and immediately began approaching him. Alric was a fair-skinned human with dirty blond hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. He was wearing minty green armor beneath a brown robe, which was torn and steaming in a few places.

“Karalin, watch out!” Alric shouted as he leaped forward and landed between his apprentice and another Sith. In a split second, he deflected the incoming strike and responded with a furious flurry of swipes to strike the Sith down. Karalin simply stood there, dumbfounded by the speed at which Alric defeated his opponent. The human placed a hand on the shoulder of his apprentice and said, “Are you alright?”

Karalin could do nothing but nod his head.

“Clear your mind of all obscurity,” Alric advised in a calm tone. There was an admirable charisma in his voice that was unique to only himself.

This time, Karalin spoke, “Yes, Master.”

Alric nodded in response and looked around, taking in the scene. A painful sorrow showed on his face as he witnessed Jedi all around them, desperately holding back the Sith, most to no avail. Not just he, but all of them here could feel the deaths of so many through the Force, which had seemingly forsaken them this day. But not to Alric. “We’re running out of time. The Sith will soon be upon us.”

Eagerness filled the eyes of his apprentice as he said, “Then we must keep fighting! We have to repel them!”

“No!” Alric’s response came sharp and sudden. A lump formed in Karalin’s throat, as if he had just made a terrible and regretful decision. With a sigh, Alric said, “This battle is already lost. We must flee Coruscant before we’re wiped out.”

Karalin knit his brows in confusion. What could they possibly do to escape? Even if they somehow found a way out of the Jedi Temple, there was no escaping Coruscant while it remained under siege. The Sith would hunt them down until there were no more Jedi.

“Karalin, trust me and lead the survivors to the lower levels. Escape to the underworld, you will be safe there,” Alric spoke with the same calmness as before, although it felt different to Karalin. Not only was this guidance, it was a valediction.

“What about you, Master?”

Alric gave him a warm and reassuring smile, “I must stay behind and make sure everyone escapes. I promise, I will be right behind you…trust me.”

With a reluctant nod, Karalin retreated into the crowd of Jedi as they desperately began funneling their way through the chamber exit. He did not look back—less so out of determination to finish his job, and more so out of fear that he wouldn’t see his master again. In the few years since he became Alric’s Padawan learner, he had formed a unique bond with his master that could never be broken. Losing him now would be worse than heart wrenching, and he knew it.

Something caught Karalin’s eye. He noticed a particular Jedi struggling to fight back a Sith, a Twi’lek whom he identified as his close friend, Daerit’hal Morana. Although his back faced Karalin, he recognized those green-skinned lekku anywhere. A feeling of relief overcame Karalin at the thought that his friend still yet lived—that feeling was quickly dispersed as he realized Daerit’hal’s struggle.

He needs help! Karalin thought as he activated his lightsaber and began rushing to his friend’s aid.

Suddenly in a flash of green light, the Sith fell by the hand of another Jedi. Not Daerit’hal, who still stood in a defensive stance as if he were about to deflect an attack. When the Twi’lek finally realized what had happened, he lowered his weapon and grunted, “He nearly had me there…”

“Look not on the past, Daerith,” spoke Master Kalona as he placed a hand on Daerit’hal’s shoulder. Karalin noted how reminiscent it was to Alric’s gesture towards Karalin, barely a minute prior. “Seek only improvement.” Although he was not his master, Karalin had to admit that Kalona’s wisdom was both admirable and impressive. As he thought this, the Nikto Jedi noticed Karalin’s approach.

“Karalin, you’re alive!” Daerit’hal exclaimed at the sight of Karalin.

With a smile, the Zabrak nodded, “Yeah. Master Alric told me to—”

“This is no time for conversation!” Kalona said with a sudden urgency to his voice. He faced his apprentice once more and said, “Daerith, go with Karalin and escape. Your life is more important than mine.”

“Master, no!” Daerith shouted.

“Go, Daerith. I will follow.” Those words struck Karalin as they echoed in his mind, alongside Alric’s own.

Finally, Daerith bowed with great reluctance before gesturing to Karalin. The two Padawans made their way towards the exit, which many Jedi—notably a majority of Padawans and young Knights—chaotically funneled through. When they reached the doorway, Karalin and Daerith looked back to see various Jedi Masters holding the line in a semicircle around the door, covering their escape. Beyond them, few blue or green-bladed lightsabers were visible as the Sith’s onslaught slowly came towards a conclusion. Thick smoke rose from massive fires all around them as the Jedi Temple began falling apart.

But Karalin’s focus was mostly on Master Alric, who was cutting down the oncoming Sith. Although his master was an expert swordsman, Karalin noticed the faulty patterns in his form as weariness began to overtake him. I will be right behind you… those words still echoed in Karalin’s mind as he anxiously watched his master swiping away at Sith.

Suddenly a feeling of extreme dread consumed them all as an ear-piercing roar emanated from somewhere in the Sith ranks. Karalin ignored the pain in his ears as he glanced around the place. He eventually noticed a heavily-armored Sith Lord, seemingly a Pureblood, standing atop a pile of blazing rubble. When Karalin spotted the Sith, a second feeling of dread overcame him as he looked into the other’s blazing eyes. What was in reality several seconds felt like an eternity as Karalin’s surroundings disappeared and he gazed into the eyes of this Sith. His stomach clenched as the two became locked in an intense stare down.

The Zabrak thought he heard his name being shouted from somewhere in the distance behind him. But he paid it no mind as fear continued to build up inside him.

“Karalin!”

Karalin finally came to and diverted his eyes from the Sith, who no longer stood atop the rubble. Shaking his head as he returned to reality, he was surprised to find Master Alric standing before him, hand resting on his shoulder. “Karalin!” he shouted again.

“Master?”

He looked over his master’s shoulder and saw Master Kalona fighting off the Pureblood. That fear inside him continued to build as he noticed Daerith standing beside him, watching on with anxiety.

“Karalin, go! I will hold off this brute of a Sith!” Alric shouted. His tone was authoritative—it was quite unlike Alric to speak in such a way. But that only added to the urgency behind it as he turned away and activated his lightsaber once more. Without another word he charged into battle alongside Kalona.

But Karalin did not move a muscle; he too watched with anxiety as Alric joined the duel. He watched as the Sith Lord—who he now realized was huge in build and tall in stature—fought off two Jedi Masters with only one lightsaber. His attacks were aggressive, they held enough force to potentially knock both Jedi off their feet in a single blow. In fact Karalin anticipated that would happen as he observed their battle, praying to the Force that Alric and Kalona’s agility would give them an advantage.

But he knew that they could never defeat this Sith alone. Without an opportunity to go on the offensive, the two Jedi were forced to maintain their defenses as the Pureblood hacked away relentlessly. Karalin knew it would not take much for him to wear the two down more so than they already were—they had been fighting practically all day now!

All of Karalin’s fear disappeared as he activated his lightsaber. He tried to step forward, but Daerith placed an arm around him and pulled back.

“No, Karalin! We need to leave!” he desperately shouted.

“We need to help, Daerith!” Karalin shouted without facing his friend. “He’s too strong! He—”

Kalona abruptly stopped as a red blade flew across his torso. The cut was almost deep enough to slice him clean in half. The Nikto dropped his lightsaber, the blade of which withdrew as it hit the ground, and he stood there for a rather long moment. Finally, his corpse collapsed onto the ground.

Daerith released Karalin as he dropped to his knees, eyes wide in horror.

Although he was now free, Karalin did not move. He was just as mortified as Daerith as he gazed on at Kalona’s lifeless and crippled body. But it was not long before something else occurred to him—he returned his attention to the Sith, who now fought off the lone Alric.

“M…ma…” words could not come to Karalin’s mouth as fear returned. He tried to step forward, but he could not move a muscle; it felt as though his whole body was paralyzed. Dammit, why can’t I move?

The Sith brought his blade down on Alric, who held his lightsaber horizontally in front of him. But he misinterpreted the trajectory as the block failed and his left forearm dropped to the ground. Alric yelped, but it was not long before the Sith came back around to permanently silence Alric as the lightsaber flew across his throat. But he did not stop his slaughter there as he turned his back on Alric and thrust the lightsaber backwards. Karalin watched as the other end of the blade protruded out his master’s back. The Pureblood forcefully removed his lightsaber from Alric’s mutilated corpse, which slumped to the ground.

The Sith faced Karalin again. The young Zabrak stared into his fiery eyes as a malicious grin formed on his face. In that moment, he knew nothing but despair and anger.