[STORY] Koros Major

[Jeh'Kant Kai]

JEH'KANT KAI​

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20000 BBY, Koros Major, dusk, the Mission to Save a Monk!​

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It didn’t come as a surprise to Jeh’Kant that the masked creature had completely disregarded the Knights of Bogan being crushed. People who often align themselves with that side of the Force show to have a disregard for lives, chalking the lost lives up to collateral damage—if that. Unfortunately, Jeh’Kant was in a much more terrible situation than before. He knew that. Just as he had finished speaking, a darkness had overtaken him and encased him completely. Jeh’Kant could sense only his immediate surroundings thankfully to his lightsabers that let off a bright lavender glow but outside of that? Nothing. Not even through the force, which appeared had been cut off to him. He, however, did not panic. Jeh’Kant stood firm and adamant, glancing around in his immediate surroundings to catch something. The weight of the air became palpable as it weighed down on his shoulders. A ball of sweat rolled down the side of his face as he waited in anticipation until eventually the darkness faded and what pierced through was the sound of a humming lightsaber. Not his and when he turned to face the direction he was now able to see the Dark Creature standing fifteen meters from him.

As Jeh’Kant turned to face him, the first thing he noticed was that Huyang had been turned offline—which was odd as no one should have the means to do that without prior knowledge. Once he had fully turned the next thing Jeh’Kant would notice was the ignited lavender lightsaber followed by the hand encased in some sort of fla—”Wait” he thought to himself as his eyes shot back towards the lightsaber. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he tried to notice the small details of the weapon “That’s—” his thought interrupted by the creature speaking in its sadistic tone. By the time he had finished speaking, Jeh’Kant had already shifted into his stance once again. The color from his face had gone a bit pale, but his expression had essentially zoned out as if he had gone into a Flow State. He did not care that he was cut off from the Force. He didn’t say a single word and he didn’t bring up the facts that the man before him knew of not only Huyang, but also knew the process of taking him offline. Not only that, but he held Cevgo’s lightsaber. That was more than enough.​

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[DarthVerus]

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Lord Verus, the Eternal​

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20000 BBY, Koros Major, dusk—in the darkness, ambition will guide you​

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The Eternal Lord looked upon his Jedi foe with amusement through the lenses of his helmet. ”How…. Jedi.” He thought to himself as he looked at the young Jedi. He almost admired him—the young Jedi didn’t seemingly fear him despite losing his greatest ally, the Force. The Jedi, perhaps, didn’t know that such things took time to mend anew. He reminded him of himself when he was over four-hundred years younger and naive to the horrors of the galaxy. Now he was well among those horrors.

Verus raised his left arm as he pointed the tip of the humming, purple lightsaber at the young Jedi—specifically aiming at his left shoulder. He then reached out to the dark side of the Force and used it to grab ahold of his enemy, binding him to his will. Literally. The young Jedi would suddenly feel as if he had lost control of all of his limbs as something invisible and immensely powerful had grabbed hold of him as his entire body came under the control of Lord Verus.

He raised the young Jedi softly into the air using the Force as his battle stance was now broken. Half a meter up in the air, the young Jedi would appear as if he was going to be crucified with his hands forced to the side and his legs stuck strictly. This would also force him to drop his both lightsabers. With the Force not helping the young Jedi, he’d have little chances of fighting what was ahead of him. The young Jedi would then notice that his right arm of cortosis would be mechanically twisted and bent, made worthless in a blink of an eye. All of his, from Verus pointing at the young Jedi to breaking his cybernetic arm would’ve taken roughly two seconds.

”As I said… You will come with me.”

The dark lord uttered with sadistic playfulness to his monstrous voice as he then used the Force to begin pulling the Jedi slowly at the lightsaber that he was holding—forcing him to watch himself get dragged at a sword, as if torturing him on purpose for being as defiant as he has been. The young Jedi would have little to no ways out of this, unless a miracle would occur.​

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[Voros Viszla]

Voro Vizsla​

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20000 BBY, Koros Major, Dusk, Ambivalence Elevator Guardian; Voros Vizsla​

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I was hanging back, lurking behind a pillar longer than I probably should have. My fingers were itching near my holster as I watched Jeh’Kant float there, rigid as a board, like some sort of puppet on invisible strings. My mind raced through the possibilities, but nothing clicked, not yet, anyway. Then it happened: his lightsabers slipped from his grip, and that was the moment I realized things were about to get messy.

Without thinking twice, I sprang into action.

I dashed out from behind the pillar, my finger hitting the button on my vambrace. That familiar whine of my rocket boots kicked in, and with a jolt, I was off the ground, shooting down the hallway like a missile. The air whipped past me, creating a rush of sound that felt like a distant storm as I barreled toward the prison chamber.

When I burst into the room, everything came into focus. There he was, Jeh’Kant, suspended in mid-air, and across from him stood a figure that screamed menace: a dark lord. But honestly, my attention was locked on Jeh’Kant, realizing he was completely vulnerable, trapped by something way worse than I had imagined.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and that’s when I spotted it; the Force, or whatever dark magic was at play here, had him in a chokehold. The air around him twisted unnaturally, yanking him forward like a marionette toward that looming figure, lightsaber aimed right at him. The realization hit me hard: a Force user was in control.

Damn it.

With a flick of my wrist, I activated the void pulse, a pulse of energy emitted and surrounded us in a two meter radius. The pulse cut off the Force that gripped the Jedi, and just like that, Jeh’Kant broke free from the invisible chains.

I was already halfway there, my boots pushing me to max speed. I reached out, grabbed Jeh’Kant's droid, in one hand and Jeh’Kant in the other, pulling them both to me in midair. The pressure of the Force lifted, and everything seemed a little less weighty. With one swift move, I yanked them into the hallway. Sure, the added weight made my trajectory wobble for a second, but I quickly adjusted and engaged my stabilizers as my boots skidded across the floor, racing toward the elevator.

I hit the button to call it, and the doors slid open with a welcoming chime. I shoved us inside without missing a beat, slamming the button to take us down, faster than most would’ve thought possible.

As the doors closed and the elevator started its descent, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. But I knew I wasn’t off the hook yet. Whomever that Force user was, he wasn’t going to let this slide without putting up a fight. Now it was up to me to figure out how to keep Jeh’Kant safe from becoming an even bigger target.
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[Xev]

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20000 BBY, Koros Major – The Throne Room of Emperor Koros III: The Breaking Point​

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The command had been given.
The air in the throne room shifted—the weight of inevitability crashing down upon them all. For all the maneuvering, all the words spoken, and all the power plays danced between Corellia, Coruscant, and the Jedi—it had come to this.

The Emperor had chosen war.

The Aldanian Death Guard moved as one, their tight formation now a rolling wave of steel and death. Cortosis wrist-blades slid from their armored gauntlets, the eerie metallic rasp cutting through the tension like a vulture's cry before a feast. Their advance was slow, deliberate, terrifyingly controlled—not a reckless charge, but a methodical march toward slaughter.

The Jedi Master's hand was no longer hovering. His lightsaber ignited, the elegant orange saber snapping to life in a single motion. Its hum reverberated against the throne room’s cold stone, the only light in a chamber now dark with impending bloodshed. A nod—subtle, restrained, but unmistakable.

From admiral — for the first time, she did not see him as a Jedi diplomat, nor a sworn adversary of Corellia. She likely saw him as her only chance to survive.

And Xev did not hesitate.

The first strike came from behind—an Aldanian warrior lunging with a wrist-blade aimed for the base of his spine. Xev turned sharply, his saber a blur, catching the deadly weapon just before impact. Sparks exploded where energy met cortosis, a shrill screech reverberating as the weapon’s energy briefly flickered. But Xev had fought warriors like this before. He pivoted low, using the force of the block to redirect the incoming strike, sending the attacker off-balance just enough to create an opening. A single precise slash—not wide, not wasteful—cut clean across the soldier’s chestplate, dropping him instantly. The fight had begun.

And there was no turning back. Would the Corellians join the fray? Would Alena herself fight?

There was no time for questions.

Because the Death Guard were relentless.

Because the Emperor had declared their deaths.

And because Xev had just chosen to defy him.

The Aldanian Death Guard did not hesitate. The fall of their first warrior did not break their rhythm, nor slow their approach. They moved as one, a relentless machine of execution, trained for a single purpose: to end their enemies quickly, efficiently, without hesitation. Xev knew that rhythm.

And so, he shattered it.

He did not meet them in the way they expected. He sidestepped instead of clashing, weaving through the descending swarm of cortosis blades. Their footwork was perfect—but so was his. The hum of his orange saber cut through the air, blocking a strike meant to take his head, guiding it just inches past his shoulder before pivoting to counter—
Another strike. This time, from behind. He twisted, deflecting the incoming blade with a shower of sparks. The energy in his saber flickered dangerously, the cortosis attempting to disrupt its flow, but he moved before it could. His opponent overcommitted.

A blur of motion. A clean slash.

The second Death Guard fell, armor cracking under the precise weight of Xev’s blade.

But there were too many.
A blade came from the right. Another from the left. A third from behind. He wasn’t fast enough. Not with one blade. And so—he stopped holding back.

A second hum ignited the air. Another orange saber erupted to life— The closest Death Guard hesitated for the first time. Not because of fear. No, these warriors did not fear. But because they had prepared for a Jedi with a single weapon. And Xev was not that Jedi.

Now the fight truly began.

He spun—one saber blocked, the other struck. He shifted—one cut low, the other defended high. His movements became a dance of offense and defense, an art of calculated precision, never wasting an inch. Where the Aldanians fought with sheer overwhelming force, Xev moved like a shadow in the chaos—every step accounted for, every strike meant to disrupt, to fracture, to turn the momentum against them. And yet, he was still outnumbered. He could feel the weight of them closing in. The inevitability of being cornered.

And then—a flash of movement beside Alena, should she have met Xev back-to-back — or in a coinciding stance beside each other after she delivered her own actions.
Alena Solo.

Not an enemy. Not this time.
Their battle lines had blurred, their war of words replaced by a battle for survival. They did not speak. They didn’t need to.
In this moment, the Jedi and the Admiral fought as one.

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[Jeh'Kant Kai]

JEH'KANT KAI​

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20000 BBY, Koros Major, dusk, the Mission to Save a Monk!​

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There was a sigh of relief as Jeh'Kant's best friend entered into the fold. Even through the pain and the Force taking ahold of him, there was a smile plastered across his face. Just before the Dark Lord could do any permanent damage, Jeh'Kant's best friend intervened—just as it was written. Voros moved with grace and symmetry. It was like watching a ballet dance — dance. It was a beautiful sight to see, that was until Jeh'Kant had passed out from the pain and been rendered unconscious the whole time. With his lightsabers in his grip, Jeh'Kant would merely be dead weight to his powerful, manly, strong best friend.​

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