The sky over Varonis Prime boiled with smoke as the last Separatist transports fled orbit, leaving the fractured Republic outpost below in ruins.

Kael Dravik moved like a shadow through the smoldering wreckage, his dark armor catching only slivers of light from the burning towers around him. His silver eyes scanned the landing platforms ahead, the hum of distant generators echoing through the thin air. At his side, Darth Veynar strode with predatory calm, crimson blade casting its glow against the black edges of his mask.

But this mission wasn’t about killing clones or seizing territory.

It was about the holodisk.

Republic intelligence had stored critical data on Separatist fleet movements deep within the outpost’s command center. If retrieved, the Sith could cripple entire sectors of the Republic’s war effort. And the Jedi were here to stop them.

Kael felt it before he saw them.

A flicker in the Force—strong, disciplined, but young. One presence carried the weight of experience: calm, anchored. The other was sharper, faster, like a wildfire burning too close to the wind.

“Two,” Kael said quietly.

Veynar didn’t slow. “The Master and the Padawan,” he confirmed, voice low and metallic beneath his mask. “Dane and Valora. Take the Padawan alive. Kill the Master if you must.”

Kael smirked faintly. “As you wish.”

⸻

They found them in the main hangar: Jedi Knight Alira Dane, her green blade blazing in the smoke, and beside her, Seris Valora, hooded, violet saber igniting with a snap-hiss. Even at this distance, Kael could feel it: the Padawan wasn’t afraid. She stood coiled and ready, silver-white hair catching the firelight behind her.

“Darth Veynar,” Alira called out, her voice cutting through the roar of distant fires. “Turn back now. Whatever you came for, you won’t leave with it.”

Veynar’s laugh was low and cold. “On the contrary,” he said, crimson blade igniting. “I plan to leave with far more than I came for.”

The chamber erupted into chaos. Blaster fire from retreating Separatist droids raked across the walls as the Sith advanced, the Jedi splitting to meet them.

Kael moved with speed that blurred the air around him, his blade crashing against Alira’s in a storm of sparks while Seris darted forward to intercept Veynar, the Padawan’s style fast and precise, Ataru’s acrobatics clashing against the Sith Lord’s crushing power.

“Keep him busy!” Alira shouted to Seris, parrying Kael’s strike and forcing him back a step. “The holodisk is in the vault—we can’t let them have it!”

But Veynar fought like a storm given form. A single crushing blow sent Seris tumbling across the floor, separating her from her master as fire rained from the ceiling, splitting the hangar in two with a wall of flame.

Through the smoke, Seris rose alone, violet blade spinning into a guard position. Her master was still dueling Kael somewhere beyond the fire, Republic troopers retreating under Separatist bombardment.

And there—emerging from the smoke like predators—came Veynar and Kael together, crimson and red blades casting long shadows as they cornered the Padawan against the wreckage.

The holodisk was still in the vault. Her master was losing ground.

And Seris Valora stood alone.