Jedi Insurgency 242

AN: To preface this chapter, I just want to say that at high tier fights, Force Adepts coat their bodies in the Force, thus explaining why they can survive being shoved through a wall or crash through something unscathed. 

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Finishing off the last of the clones, Mace Windu descended the final stair with measured caution, his purple blade already ignited beside him. The violet glow illuminated his now healthy dark skin, and vibrant white dreadlocks. 

Beside him, Plo Koon moved with nearly silent steps. His visor was pointed forwards, towards the dimly lit dark chamber ahead. His own blue lightsaber hummed to life, granting him confidence for the upcoming encounter. 

Neither Jedi spoke. This was not the time for cheeky quips, or funny one liners. Neither of them would utter something so foolish as to act with levity when every ounce of focus was critical to the situation at hand. Where a certain Po Dameron may say something like: ‘Hi, I'm holding for General Hux. General Hugs? He's the skinny guy, kinda pasty.’ These pair of men had sat on the Jedi Council for more than a decade, trained with ancient mystics, meditated upon a hundred worlds, and fought in a more brutal war than the one leading up to the Ruusan Accords. 

In an era where the Jedi were shadows of their former selves, perhaps Plo Koon & Mace Windu were the only two members of the Jedi Council who deserved their seats. Each other member being unfortunately, more mediocre than the last. 

It was with this solemn attitude that they did not rush forward, head first into danger, but approached with a measured calm. 

At the far end of the chamber sat a throne of polished obsidian atop a short dais. And upon it lounged Emperor Palpatine.

His chin rested lazily against one knuckle. Black robes pooled around him like darkest midnight. The wrinkles of his face had vanished, a youthful face met the Jedi's advance, a confident smile creeping across his lips as they drew near. 

Behind the throne stood a translucent figure wrapped in shadow. Codenamed: Nightmare, this was Cronal's Force projection, and true power. The disciple of the Prophets of the Darkside did not look Human. Twin white burning balls of energy acted as his eyes, and his shadowy black form was dotted with stars, planets, and the cosmos. His head was helmeted, and shaped almost like an upside down V or similar in shape to a boomerang, curving backwards. The phantom form flickered unnaturally, as though it existed half a second out of phase with reality itself. 

Then six figures emerged from the darkness, they were the newly minted Royal Guardsmen. Their crimson robes swept across the floor as they formed a semicircle around the Jedi. But these were no ordinary protectors of the throne. Beneath their robes came the hiss of ignition. Six red lightsabers burst to life.

“Their auras are unstable. Some experiment gone wrong?” Plo Koon rhetorically asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. 

“He wishes to test your strength. Follow the plan.” Windu muttered back, then acted as the vanguard. 

Plo Koon didn't say anything, but wearily watched both Palpatine, and the mystery phantom as he stood behind Windu, watching his back. 

The guards attacked simultaneously, and moved with startling speed.

Not the stiff ceremonial warriors the Senate believed them to be, but trained killers empowered by the Force itself. Crimson blades slashed through the darkness from all directions at once.

One leapt directly for Windu’s throat. To which he met the strike with contemptuous ease. The instant their blades connected, Vaapad erupted, pulling upon the guardsman's darkness, and using it against himself. 

The guard barely had time to widen his eyes before Windu pivoted inside the man’s defense and removed both arms at the elbows. Whilst he was occupied, the second guard came from behind, only for Windu to spin low and carve through his torso in a single brutal arc.

Where Windu was all lethal aggression, Plo was solid in his defense. Form V-his specialty-excelled in counter attacking, transforming offense into defense, and defense into offense. It was the style known as Shien or Djem So, depending on how one swapped between forms. 

A guard lunged toward Plo with an overhead strike. He sidestepped by inches, his robes fluttering softly as his blade rose in a clean diagonal slash across the attacker’s chest.

Another attempted to [Force Push] him backward.

Plo simply planted his feet. The push broke against him like water against stone. Then he extended one gloved hand, and pulled the man towards him, then rammed his blue blade through his foe's chest. 

The final two guards attacked together. One pressed Windu with a furious barrage while the other sought Plo’s flank. Windu allowed the assault for half a second, then the shatterpoint revealed a flaw. 

A single microscopic lapse in rhythm was all it took. Windu's blade struck the perfect spot, causing the guard’s lightsaber to explode apart at the emitter, detonating in his hands. Before the man could even scream, Windu drove a boot into his chest hard enough to cave in his armor and send the crumbling body tumbling across the chamber. By the time it landed at the foot of Palpatine’s dais, it had fallen apart into bleeding meat chunks. 

The last guard turned toward Plo Koon in desperation. Plo regarded him sadly, and sighed. 

“You were used. It is still not too late for surrender.” The Kel Dor said quietly.

The guard roared and charged. Plo Koon removed his head with one smooth strike, clucking his tongue. 

Silence fell upon the dark chamber as six crimson-clad bodies lay scattered across the sticky red stone floor. 

Upon the throne, Palpatine slowly applauded.

“Magnificent, truly magnificent.” Young Palpatine crooned, his yellow eyes gleamed with malicious delight. “I had wondered whether imprisonment had dulled you, Master Windu. Happily, I see your talent for violence remains intact.”

Windu stepped forward, blade raised.

“You should have killed me when you had the chance.” 

Palpatine sighed theatrically.

“And deprive myself of this reunion? After all these months, I had hoped for a more sentimental exchange.” 

“You are cornered, Sidious.” Plo Koon sternly stated, and slowly began to pace to the left, towards Cronal. 

The Emperor chuckled softly.

“Am I?”

The darkness in the chamber thickened, and several braziers dimmed. Palpatine slowly rose from the throne, a pair of unlit lightsabers fell from his sleeves into his hands. 

“I confess, I had envisioned your execution differently, Master Mace. It would have been a great victory for democracy.” Palpatine said, his smile dripping with mockery. “Yet perhaps there is poetry in handling the matter personally.”

Windu’s eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. The air had changed. It was heavy, and thick with something foreign. Sleep tugged faintly at the edges of his thoughts, and he briefly forgot what he was doing here? 

Plo Koon swayed slightly beside him. His mask moved, but no words were heard. 

To Palpatine's side, Cronal raised ghostly hands. The phantom’s fingers twisted through the air in a slow pattern, an ancient rhythmic hymn passed through his lips, and the universe obeyed. 

This was…Sith sorcery! 

The shadows themselves seemed to whisper: 

Rest.

Sleep.

Surrender.

The chamber blurred for the pair of Jedi. Windu felt exhaustion crash into him like a tidal wave. His muscles became lead. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy. Plo Koon dropped to one knee, almost falling flat on his face. 

Palpatine continued speaking casually, as though nothing were happening.

“You Jedi pride yourselves on clarity, and yet your minds are so fragile. So easily influenced.” He almost sounded disappointed, yet his triumphant amusement could not be hidden. Like a sports fan trying to appear humble after his team won the world cup, Palpatine was barely even trying to hide his victory. 

Cronal’s hollow voice slithered through the chamber.

“Sleeeep…”

The darkness pressed harder, and Windu’s vision dimmed

Then he saw it. The shatterpoint. It was not in the air he breathed, the durasteel structure surrounding him, nor in the flesh of his foe…but in the spell itself! A fracture hidden within the web of sorcery.

Mace Windu snarled, his eyes snapping open as he uttered one singular word: 

“No.”

The word exploded from him with the force of a hammer strike. He seized the shatterpoint through the Force, and crushed it with his fist. 

The spell shattered apart instantly. A shockwave of invisible energy detonated through the chamber, causing Cronal to scream in pain. 

This once arrogant phantom recoiled violently as cracks of green light laced with yellow highlights tore across his spectral form. He staggered backward and collapsed to one knee beside the throne, clutching his head-and then most perplexingly his crotch-in agony. It was as if Windu had reached out, and crushed the phantom's balls with the Force. The backlash echoed like a psychic scream, causing immense strain upon the projection. 

Plo Koon inhaled sharply as clarity returned to him. The orange alien slowly stood up, and once more raised his lightsaber. 

Palpatine’s pleasant expression vanished for just a moment. A flash of disdain and hatred appeared underneath his hood, but was soon replaced by the confidence of a man who believed everything was still under control. 

The chamber trembled faintly as the Darkside gathered around the Emperor like a storm preparing to break. Although the Nexus had been sealed, this Dark Lord of the Sith still knew a few tricks! Those crimson clad corpses suddenly withered, transforming into orange-red motes of light that were absorbed directly into Palpatine's body. 

“We end this. Now.” Windu declared, running at the Sith. 

“We have been expecting you, Master Windu!” Palpatine chuckled with theatric glee. 

Crimson lightning left Palpatine’s fingertips in a wide arc. The pair of Jedi raised their blades to block, barely able to hold on. Red light flickered around them, and black clouds began to form. Whilst the chamber became bathed in light, the energy that snaked around the Jedi escaped into the rest of the city. 

Palpatine's attack melted support beams, and traveled for ten miles. Everything in its path melted or turned to ash. Buildings collapsed in a straight line, and tens of thousands of people instantly lost their lives. 

“You overestimate yourself.” Plo Koon grunted. 

Then, holding out his hand, Plo cast [Electric Judgement]. Bright green lightning smelling of spring left his fingertips. Hope clashed with malice, red met green. Although Plo's attack was not as concentrated, nor was it quite as potent, it did come with one unique property. That is, it was particularly strong against those things fueled by the Darkside! 

Thus, their beam struggle was in actuality, a draw! Neither side was able to outperform the other! 

Palpatine scowled at this, yet he was not without options. The black clouds he had conjured were becoming thick, and whole. Within seconds they would envelope the pair of Masters. Squeezing his fist, he channeled his hatred, making sure to especially target Windu. 

White dreads covering his expression, Windu once more met the attack that had haunted his nightmares. The last time he was caught in this maelstrom, he had become crisped like grilled Bantha. For the past few months whilst he was drugged up, this was a technique he had long thought about. Closing his eyes, he disabled his lightsaber, and sat behind Plo. 

“Given up so soon, Master Jedi?” Palpatine crowed, attempting to sow discord. However, he sensed something was wrong. Narrowing his eyes, he prepared to activate one of his contingencies. 

“I can hold him off for one more minute.” Plo Koon succinctly stated, calmly informing his battle brother about the reality of the situation. 

“Acknowledged.” Windu muttered as he sat still. 

As time expired, and Plo was beginning to lag, the storm clouds were thick, surrounding them on all sides. That [Judgement Shield] protecting their bodies since the fight began had already sustained several strikes, and was beginning to fade. 

“I cannot. Hold on. Any. Longer.” Plo gasped. 

“I see it.” Windu declared. Eyes suddenly snapped open, he reached his hands forward, and clapped. 

The [Force Storm] surrounding them dispersed, fluttering away to some distant corner, and breaking apart like a foul odor being fanned away. 

There was no time to celebrate, however, as Palpatine came screaming at them, twisting his body like a cyclone. Twin beams of red came upon both Windu & Plo just as they were catching their breath. Caught in Palpatine’s rhythm, both men were on the backfoot, and were forced back several steps. 

Palpatine’s scarlet blades ignited mid-lunge as he crossed half the chamber in less than a heartbeat. The Sith Lord struck with impossible speed, his lightsabers stabbing toward Windu’s face in a thrust so lethal, less than five currently living people in the galaxy could block it. 

Fighting with Form II, Palpatine pushed Makashi beyond mortal limits. Although this stab was perhaps one of the simplest attacks amongst the many methods of attack, the speed behind this simplicity transformed it into one of the most deadly strikes imaginable. 

Windu barely intercepted it.

Purple and red exploded together in a resounding clash. The impact alone cracked the stone beneath Mace’s boots, both men pressed forward with the Force, enhancing their strength, speed, and power of their blows. The sheer pressure of their shared psychic might blasted away every single wall within a one mile radius. 

Palpatine’s yellow eyes burned with hideous delight.

“Yesss.” He hissed.

Then the Emperor resumed his attack in earnest. The duel became madness.

Palpatine flowed from elegant Makashi thrusts into the savage unpredictability of Juyo without warning. His body twisted into inhuman angles as his blade became a red whirlwind capable of striking from six directions at once.

Windu met him head-on.

Vaapad erupted around the Jedi Master like a storm unleashed from a cage. Violet light spun through the darkness as Mace fed upon Sidious’s hatred without succumbing to it, redirecting the Sith Lord’s fury back upon him.

Their blades blurred faster than the eye could properly follow. One second, a pillar exploded apart as Palpatine’s saber glanced off Windu’s defense. The next, a telekinetic shockwave erupted from Mace’s free hand, shattering ancient statues into clouds of debris. On the third second, a skyscraper came tumbling down on top of them. 

Palpatine spun through the destruction untouched. Hurling down chunks of debris the size of Rancor's with diabolical laughter. 

Windu & Plo worked together to dodge the objects, and save as many people as they could, but their kindness was being exploited by their foe. 

“And this is why you Jedi shall remain at the bottom of Galactic HISTORY!!!” Palpatine declared with a gloating shout. 

Windu felt the darkness swell up in him as he took a deep breath. 

“Master Windu…Mace!” Plo shouted in concern as Windu didn't stop a family from falling to their death, and instead focused on Palpatine. 

“When we die because of our mercy, what will happen to them then? Are we to be used and abused by the Senate once we reclaim the Order?! Tell me, Plo, can you save them all?!” Windu shouted over the falling debris, and screams of the innocent. 

“When I die. I can meet my forebears in the Force with a calm smile. Will you be able to do the same?” Plo stated without judgement. 

Windu closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling like a caged beast. 

Clapping his hands together once more, all of the masonry, and wrought durasteel raining down upon them suddenly crumpled, turning into dust. The people then slid down this sand-like dust to safety. 

“Kindness is not weakness, my friend, it is our strength.” Plo said with conviction. 

Windu felt the darkness in him recede, yet it remained, hovering at the back of his psyche. Holding his purple blade aloft, he pointed it at Palpatine, and didn't say a word. The Lightside pulsed, and purple light began to coalesce around him. 

Plo Koon smiled, then he too joined Windu in pointing his blade at Palpatine. 

“In brightest day, in blackest night. No evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might. Beware my power...Jedi's light!” Mace chanted an ancient saying he had once read in the archives. The kyber crystal he wielded pulsed alongside him, affirming his oath to the Force. 

In retaliation, the Emperor became a streak of crimson shadow that danced across the bottom layers of the Senate with horrifying agility. His robes swirled around him like living darkness as his blade came down like a meteor. The Dark Lord stabbed repeatedly toward Mace’s vital points as a master of Makashi. 

Windu gave ground for three steps, then Plo Koon entered the exchange.

The Kel Dor intercepted Palpatine from the flank with a two-handed strike aimed directly at the Emperor’s spine. Sidious twisted, catching Plo’s blade one-handed while simultaneously driving a kick into the Jedi Master’s chest.

Plo absorbed the blow and slid backward across the torn battlefield. Palpatine smiled as a section of Plo's robe fell to the ground, revealing a sparkly-yet dimming-shield beneath. 

Plo answered that grin with [Electric Judgment].

Green lightning exploded from his outstretched hand. The bolt tore across the broken chamber like divine wrath itself.

Palpatine LAUGHED.

Pure Sith lightning erupted from his fingers in reply.

The energies collided midair once more. 

Electricity screamed across the hall in branching arcs that vaporized stone and split pillars apart. Crimson and green consumed the darkness entirely as the opposing Force powers struggled for dominance.

Plo Koon dug his boots into the floor, both hands extended now, pouring every ounce of his focus into the attack.

Palpatine held against it casually with one hand.

“One of the few Jedi with the courage to touch the storm, and yet you are still so terribly limited.” Palpatine sneered.

His second hand snapped outward.

Windu sensed the attack an instant before it came.

“Plo!”

A compressed sphere of invisible power struck Plo Koon like a bolt from a turbolaser. The Kel Dor flew through a pillar hard enough to pulverize it, vanishing into a cloud of stone dust. Palpatine spun immediately back toward Windu, and their blades collided again.

This time the Emperor unleashed Form VII completely. The chamber trembled beneath the sheer violence of the duel. Sidious attacked like a demon hangering for souls. His blade became a blood-red cyclone of shrieking fury, alternating between incredible  displays of acrobatics and sudden thrusts or counters. One moment he fought like a savage beast; the next, like a duelist from a forgotten aristocratic age.

Windu met everything head-on. Vaapad fed upon the darkness flooding from Palpatine. Every ounce of rage, every flicker of murderous intent, it fed into him as if he were a conduit, transforming him into a living vortex of the Force. 

Purple and red flashed across the chamber so rapidly they appeared continuous. Their sabers shrieked against one another with enough force to liquefy durasteel.

Palpatine thrust.

Windu parried.

Palpatine spun low.

Windu vaulted over him.

Plo rejoined the fight, slashing high, stabbing low, and defending Windu when he could, giving the Order Master a second to catch his breath here and there. In this high pace, high intensity fight, stamina was fleeting, and these couple seconds began to add up. Palpatine, for all his skill, was beginning to flag. The three of them were constantly crashing through buildings, and in an effort to maintain himself, the Dark Lord drained the life of several dozen passing sentients. As fast as the momentum had shifted towards the Jedi, it had vanished just as quick! 

In one exchange, the Emperor’s free hand erupted with lightning. Windu caught the blast on his saber…but Sidious abruptly shifted the stream downward! The floor detonated beneath the Vaapad master's feet, taking the battle even deeper beneath the Senate. 

Windu dropped through piles of collapsing stone, only to find Palpatine was already there beneath him. The Sith Lord moved like a phantom. Red blade lunging upward toward Windu’s heart, the dark skinned Master twisted midair by pure instinct. The blade sliced across his shoulder instead, carving through his [Judgement Shield], and singeing his shoulder blade. Plo had jumped towards them, but his movements at that very second were like slow motion…Cronal had risen from his backlashed state, and was working the Sith technique [Slow] upon the Kel Dor! 

Pain exploded through him, but Windu would not allow this temporary setback to distract him from what really mattered. He had seen a shatterpoint.

It was tiny, merely a fleeting moment in un-reality, yet it was there, waiting for him to pull upon it. A flaw in Palpatine’s momentum! 

Mace seized it instantly.

He redirected his fall into a brutal descending kick that smashed into Palpatine's jaw with enough force to crater the floor beneath the Emperor. Palpatine skidded backward, and his skull fractured, blood hemorrhaging his brain. The chamber shook due to the impact, and for the first time, the Sith Lord’s smile vanished entirely.

Then he laughed a horrible, ugly laugh. 

“YES! This is what you were born for!”

The Dark Lord rapidly aged a decade, appearing as a man in his 40's. As a consequence, his wounds also disappeared just as quickly. Working a hand across his jaw, Palpatine snapped his fingers, spawning in a cloud of [Force Storm] upon Plo's slow-motion falling body. When Windu ran to clap once more, Palpatine glanced at Cronal's phantom. 

Nodding his head, the shade inverted his technique, and Plo fell at regular speed…just at the right moment to meet Windu’s clap head on! 

An extreme bout of friendly fire sent Plo ragdolling across the broken floor. This time, however, Palpatine joined in, and made sure the orange alien was rammed through a vicious spike of durasteel! Blood gushed out Plo's chest, and he weakly slumped to the side, his life or death unknown. 

On the left, Palpatine prowled, twin lightsabers flourishing, hungry for the kill. To the right, the intangible phantom was already beginning to mutter the words for his next spell. 

Windu gripped his lightsaber tightly. 

…

..

.

Everything was going just as he had foreseen. 

Just as the pair of Darksiders were about to make a move, an incredible beastly psychic-laden roar caused all three of them to look to the side. 

Bursting through a massive slab of wall, an impossibly large monster's eyeball looked down upon them. It was green, and the size of several shuttlecraft put together. Standing atop this monster's head was a blue eyed, pale skinned teenager. 

“RUAGH!!!”

The Zillo Beast had arrived!

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AN: Project Z has been revealed! After like 130+ chapters of buildup, and hints about cloning stability, and (you know who's training), it's finally here. 

Palpy POV: YOU DARE USE MY OWN SPELLS AGAINST ME?! 

Buuut, we're back to Vader vs Corvus next chapter~~~