(A/N: Please remember ill be taking next week off! Im also thinking of starting a discord. What would you guys think of that? See you all on the 20th!)
=== Nira ===
Nira sat in the cockpit of her Eta-2 Actis interceptor, the small starfighter humming with the quiet purr of its twin engines. Her hands rested on the controls, but her mind was far away, drifting back to the dripping darkness of Dathomir's caves, the low chants of the Nightsisters, and the searing ink of the runes that now etched her pale skin.
Her hood was pulled up, casting a deep shadow over her face, but even in the faint reflection of the cockpit glass she could see the telltale glow of her eyes, no longer the warm blue they had once been, now pulsed faintly green like twin embers. She pulled the cloak tighter, feeling the new texture of her skin beneath the folds.
"You've grown quiet." Sanguinius said. His voice was gentle, as it always was.
Nira exhaled, turning to see him staring back at her instead of her own reflection now. "How long has it been? Since I left the cruiser for the surface."
Sanguinius tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something far beyond the hull, somewhere deep in the currents of the Warp. "To you? More than a week. But here, only twelve hours have passed."
Nira let the words sink in as the starfield ahead shifted, her ship pulling smoothly into the cavernous hangar bay of the Republic cruiser. She could already see her men arrayed in neat formation beyond the magnetic field. Their white armor gleamed in the floodlights, their DC-15 rifles slung respectfully at their sides.
She reached up, pulling the hood further forward until only her eyes shone in the shadows. A part of her wondered if they would still follow her.
As the ship landed, and the canopy hissed open, the scent of the hangar rushed in to meet her. She stepped down from her ship, boots striking the deck plates.
Captain Ox was waiting, his helmet clipped to his belt. His eyes widened the instant they met hers, the faint green glow beneath her hood, the ashen cast to her skin. His mouth worked soundlessly before he remembered himself and snapped to attention, boots clacking together.
"General Nira, ma'am, are you…" He faltered, eyes flicking to the shadow of her face. "Are you alright?"
She came to a stop in front of him, studying the Captain. She let the silence stretch until the Captain looked ready to squirm under her hidden gaze.
Finally, she allowed herself a ghost of a smile, though it was more unsettling than comforting beneath that pale, rune-etched skin. "Yes, Captain Ox. I am… more than alright. I found exactly what I needed."
Ox cleared his throat, still glancing at the green glow that made her eyes seem alive in the dim hangar lights. "Good to hear, ma'am." He shifted, remembering his orders. "While you were… away… a transmission came in from General Skywalker. He said to tell you he requests your immediate return to the Jedi Temple. He said there is something you must discuss."
Nira's eyes narrowed slightly under the cowl, though she did not let him see the brief flicker of dread that passed through her mind. Anakin. Of course it would be Anakin. She could almost hear his voice, brash but troubled, always pacing like a caged animal in his mind.
"Did he say anything else?" she asked.
Ox shook his head once. "No, General. Just that it was urgent."
Nira nodded once, as if she had already expected that answer.
"Very well, Captain," she said at last. "Set a course for Coruscant. Inform me when we are an hour out."
"Yes, General," he said quickly. "I'll see to it at once." He brought his right hand to his head in a respectful salute before turning to bark orders at the others..
Nira watched him go for a moment, feeling the ache that radiated from her bones.
"I'm so tired." She said to her invisible companion.
Sanguinius stepped forward into her view again, a ghost that only she could see. "Rest, little one. You'll need it."
She nodded once, almost absently, before turning away from the bustle of her men. Her boots echoed down the corridor as she made her way to her quarters.
Behind her, the Venator's engines rumbled to life. Stars shifted as the mighty cruiser pointed its prow toward Coruscant.
===
The Jedi Temple loomed before Nira as her shuttle touched down on one of the smaller, more discreet landing pads near the upper levels. Its great spires stabbed into the dusk sky of Coruscant like stone blades, wreathed in clouds painted pink and orange by the fading sun. Even now, the sight of the Temple still made her chest ache with an old, quiet love.
She pulled her hood tighter around her face, hiding the unnatural pallor of her skin and the faint glow of her green glowing eyes. She could feel the wary looks from the Temple sentries, the subtle ripple in the Force as other Jedi sensed her arrival, and her changed presence. But it didn't matter now.
At the top of the stairs, Anakin was waiting for her. His cloak was draped loosely around his shoulders, but he looked taut and restless, one hand absently brushing the lightsaber at his hip. When his eyes met hers, they widened in shock.
"Nira…" he said, voice tight with confusion and concern as he stepped closer. "What happened to you? Your skin, your eyes?"
She cut him off sharply with a raised hand, her hood shifting just enough for the green glow beneath to pulse. "Not here, Anakin," she hissed, glancing around at the Temple's spires and the handful of Padawans and Knights who had paused to stare. "This is not for curious ears."
Anakin looked around at the staring groups, his eyes narrowing. "We need to talk, Nira. About Master Dooku —"
"Yes," she said, her voice low and urgent. "I need to speak to him. And Master Qui-Gon as well. There's something they both need to hear."
But Anakin's mouth tightened into a grim line, and she saw something flicker behind his eyes, anger, hurt, betrayal. He let out a harsh breath. "Nira… that's what we need to talk about. Master Dooku, he's gone. He left the Order. He renounced his vows a few days ago. The Council is in chaos over it."
Her lips parted in shock, the glow beneath her hood flaring brighter. She was in shock. Not that Dooku had left, but that it had happened so soon. "He… he's already gone?" she murmured, almost to herself. She felt Sanguinius' presence stir beside her, invisible to Anakin.
She snapped her eyes back to Anakin. "Then find Master Qui-Gon. I must speak to him, to you, both."
Anakin looked like he wanted to say something more, but her tone told him it was urgent. With a nod, he spun on his heel, his cloak snapping behind him as he strode into the Temple's grand hall. Nira followed, her boots echoing across the ancient stone floors, the murals of long-dead Jedi masters seeming to watch them as they passed.
Minutes later, she stood with Anakin and Qui-Gon Jinn in one of the Temple's private gathering halls, an old, domed chamber used for small councils and private confessions. Shafts of fading sunlight streamed through high windows, falling across the polished floor in warm golden lines that did nothing to cut the tension.
Qui-Gon looked older than she remembered, deep lines carved into his brow, but his eyes were calm and searching as they took her in. He bowed his head slightly in quiet greeting. "Nira. You've returned to us."
She pulled back her hood fully now, revealing her pale, rune-marked skin. "I have. And there is much you both must hear."
She told them everything. Her voice was steady at first, but it picked up a desperate edge as she spoke of Dathomir and the Nightsisters, of the Warp's pull and the visions that Mother Talzin had shown her. She told them of Mortis, the massive battle yet to come, the hordes of daemons clawing at reality, the Astartes and Jedi standing side by side against an endless tide of Chaos.
She told them of The Mother, the thing in the darkness that would break the veil between the Force and the Warp if she ever slipped her chains.
Anakin's expression shifted from wary concern to wide-eyed horror, then hardened into something cold and furious. When she finally fell silent, the only sound was the faint whir of temple air circulators, one of the galaxy's greatest fortress suddenly feeling far too small.
His fists clenched at his sides. "How do you know this? How do you know this… Mother will break free?"
Nira's jaw tightened. "Because I made a bargain with the Emperor of Mankind. He told me of what is coming. He showed me Mortis. He showed me-"
"You what?" Anakin's voice cracked like a whip, raw with fury. "You went to the Imperium? To that monster and his abominations? You made a deal with him?!" He gestured sharply, hands trembling. "Those butchers killed our mothers! They've slaughtered countless innocents, and you made a deal with them!?"
Nira stepped forward, her eyes blazing green fire. "Our mothers died because of the Chaos Sorcerer, not the Astartes!"
But Anakin was already shaking his head, eyes glassy with rage. "They killed them! They murdered them!" His voice broke on the last word, the pain raw and old but alive as ever. He looked between her and Qui-Gon, then back to her. "You think I'll stand with those monsters? You think I'll fight alongside them?!"
Nira stared at him. She saw the boy, the terrified child, the grieving son, the bitter warrior. But there was nothing she could say to reach him now.
Anakin turned on his heel. "I can't even look at you right now." he spat. He shouldered past Qui-Gon and stormed from the chamber, his footsteps echoing down the marble corridor until they faded into silence.
Nira stood motionless. Beside her, Qui-Gon watched the door for a long moment, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled.
He looked at her finally, eyes tired but warm. "He still grieves. And grief, when mixed with that much power… it twists everything."
Nira's voice was barely more than a whisper. "I know. And I fear what it will cost him." She sank onto one of the low benches, her hood falling back into place. "He hates them so much, Qui-Gon. He hates what he thinks they did. And hate is…"
"The Dark Sides opening." Qui-Gon finished for her, his tone gentle but grim. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You did what you had to do, Nira. He will hopefully see it someday. But not today."
"I need to speak with the Council immediately. Can you arrange it?" She asked.
"I will see what I can do." Qui-Gon replied.
From the shadows beyond the arched doorway, Ahsoka's presence lingered unseen, a silent witness to secrets never meant for her ears. Her eyes were wide, her hands pressed to her mouth as she sank back into the hall's darkness, heart pounding.
===
Nira stepped into the High Council Chamber of the Jedi Temple with her hood drawn low.
Whispers rippled among the Masters as she entered. Their eyes widened, some at her pallid skin, others at the green witch-fire that seemed to coil faintly from her eyes.
Only Yoda watched her without surprise. The ancient Master's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing as she stepped into the center of the circle, the hem of her dark robe brushing the floor.
She lowered her hood. "Masters," she began, her voice soft but carrying through the chamber, "you know why I am here."
They shifted, glancing at each other. Obi-Wan's brows drew down in worry. Shaak Ti leaned forward, studying her intently. Plo Koon's eyes behind his mask were unreadable.
Nira drew in a breath, her gaze sweeping over them, but she settled on Yoda last. "I know what Master Dooku said and did. And I am here to tell you…" She paused, her voice hardening. "I am leaving as well."
A chorus of shocked voices erupted. Obi-Wan's eyes widened, Aayla Secura's mouth fell open. Cin Drallig half-rose from his seat. Only Yoda remained still, watching her as if he had expected it.
Before they could barrage her with questions, she raised a single hand. Green power crackled to life, tendrils of Warp energy spiraling from her fingertips, spinning into a shimmering sphere that expanded outward, enveloping the entire chamber. The Council gasped as the walls around them dissolved into a haze of mist and flickering light, until they were somewhere else entirely.
They stood upon the scorched, cratered plains of a nameless world. Around them, towering giants in ceramite armor thundered past them onto a battlefield that spanned the horizon.
"This is the truth you've refused to see."
Nira gestured, and they saw Astartes locked in brutal combat against other superhuman warriors, the traitor legions, their corrupted armor crawling with daemonic runes. Bolter fire lit the darkness, chainswords clashed with power swords, Warp lightning cracked open the sky.
She guided their gaze to one battle among thousands, a winged figure clad in white and gold, a halo of light burning behind his head. Sanguinius, the Angel, face pale and beautiful, his wings torn and stained with blood. Before him, the monstrous form of Angron, the Butcher of Nuceria, his skull crowned with the metal talons of the Butcher's Nails.
They watched Sanguinius stagger under Angron's hammering blows. But then, with a scream that shook the air, the Angel plunged his hand into Angron's head, ripping the Nails free, tearing the daemon's essence apart. Angron's bellow turned to a shriek of hate as his form burned away, dragged back to the Warp howling.
Sanguinius fell to one knee, bloodied but unbowed. He clutched his spear and sword, standing again even as daemons circled him as he refused to yield.
"The Imperium was forged for this," Nira said, her voice raw with conviction. "To stand where no one else can stand. To fight against the armies of hell."
The vision shifted. Now the Jedi saw entire worlds drowned in seas of daemons, the Four Ruinous Powers howling their endless hunger across stars. Traitor Astartes tore through cities. Corrupted Guard legions burned forests, oceans, and people alike. And behind it all, the Dark Gods themselves, vast shapes of madness, flame and infinite hunger clawed at the veil of reality.
Nira's hand swept outward, and the mists dissipated. The Council chamber re-formed around them, but now they looked at her as if she were a ghost from a nightmare that had just been made real.
She met their eyes, her pale face glowing with the last embers of the vision's green fire. "Is this what you want? To stand alone while this comes for you?" Her voice was soft but iron beneath it. "You have no chance against them, unless you stand beside the Imperium. To stand with those who were born and bred to fight this war. And win."
A tense silence strangled the chamber. Some of the Masters looked stricken. Others looked furious.
But Anakin… Anakin's eyes were black storms of rage. He surged to his feet, his fists trembling. "You expect us to believe this?" he snarled. "You expect us to stand with murderers and monsters who butchered our people? You stand here, marked with their witchcraft, babbling about visions, how long have you been working with them, Nira? How long have you been their spy?"
Nira's eyes narrowed to slits, green fire flashing beneath her lashes. "I work for the survival of this galaxy, Anakin. Not for your petty hatred. The Astartes did not-"
"DON'T!" Anakin's shout cracked across the chamber like a thunderclap, silencing every whisper. He pointed at her, hand trembling with barely checked rage. "Don't you dare. You stand here preaching about the greater good while you let those monsters crawl around our galaxy. We should be killing them, not working with them! You're a fool!"
She stepped toward him, teeth bared. "And you are a child! A child clinging to hate when the galaxy is burning. What would your mother think? What would she say if she saw you now?"
"Don't you dare bring my mother into this." Anakin hissed.
"Why? Because you're afraid she'd be disappointed in you?" Nira snarled.
They stood nose to nose, the air crackling between them. Qui-Gon, standing just beyond, looked from one to the other, pain etched in every line of his face.
Nira turned away from Anakin abruptly, her robe swirling like dark water as she waved him off. She faced the Council again, her voice quiet but unyielding. "I ask you, Masters, who among you will stand with me? Who will stand against the tide that is to come?"
A tense, deathly silence. The Council looked between themselves, some averting their eyes, others shaking their heads. Then, one of them moved.
Quinlan Vos stood, pushing himself up from his seat. He looked tired, but his eyes burned with a new, dangerous purpose. "I will stand with you," he said. His gaze swept the room, meeting the eyes of every Master. "The Jedi have lost their way, we cling to old rules while the galaxy rots. It's time for something new."
Gasps rippled through the Council.
Then another chair creaked. Shaak Ti rose gracefully, her head-tails draping her shoulders like a mantle. "I will join you as well, Nira. If what you showed us is true, then we are all needed in this fight. Jedi, Astartes, or any other."
The shock was so thick it felt like a physical weight. And then, impossibly, Plo Koon stood, the deep, steady voice behind his mask cutting through the stunned quiet.
"I will join you too," he said. His tone was calm. "If this war is coming, then someone must serve as a bridge between the Order and the Imperium. I will be that bridge. We must know what they offer, and what they demand in return."
Nira's eyes shimmered with a painful, relieved light. She inclined her head, her hands curling at her sides as if to steady herself. "Thank you, Masters. You will not regret this. Together, we will have a chance."
She turned back to the Council.
Aayla Secura sat stiff-backed, her lekku twitching as she stared into her lap. Ki-Adi-Mundi's fingers drummed against the arm of his chair, but he would not meet her eyes.
Nira took a step closer to them, her boots whispering across the polished floor. "Please," she said, her voice raw, stripped of all the ritual calm the Council demanded. "You have seen it. The visions I showed you are no trick, no illusion. You felt the heat of those worlds burning. You heard the screams. You cannot pretend you did not!"
No one answered her. Only the low hum of the air circulators filled the chamber. A single speck of green light glowed in her palm, pulsing like a heartbeat as if the Warp itself were urging her forward.
Finally, she turned her gaze to the oldest, the wisest, the one whose word could sway them all. She looked at Yoda, the ancient Master who sat in the center of the circle, his gnarled hands folded over his cane, those luminous eyes looking older than ever before locked on her with a sadness that made her throat tighten.
Nira stepped toward him. She lowered herself to her knees before him, looking into those tired eyes. "Master," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please. You must see that what I say is true. The Imperium does not come to enslave us. They come because the Chaos gods are stirring. Because they know what is coming for this galaxy. You've seen it too, in your meditations, haven't you?"
Yoda's ears drooped slightly. His eyes closed for the briefest moment. Then he opened them again, ancient wisdom and bone-deep weariness staring back at her. He reached out, one clawed green hand brushing her own with all the gentle weight of finality.
"Seen much, I have," he murmured, his voice gravel and regret. "And see now, I do. Chosen, our paths are."
Nira's heart splintered at the edges. She pulled back from his touch, standing slowly, her limbs moving as if through mud. Her pale, marked face seemed to glow even brighter against the Council's hollow silence.
She turned to the others, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "Don't throw your lives away," she said, her voice stronger now, each word edged with a barely restrained fury. "You have seen the tide that will drown you, and yet you cling to this crumbling tower of hubris as if it were salvation! I beg you, think! Think about what you are choosing!"
Her eyes searched their faces for a tremor of doubt, a flicker of courage, but all she saw was fear and indecision.
A rough, frustrated breath shuddered from her lungs. "Fools!" She said. "Blind fools."
At last, her gaze fell on Anakin. He stood rigid as a statue, arms crossed tight across his chest, his eyes twin storms swirling with conflict and bitterness. She stepped toward him, closing the gap until she could almost feel the heat of his anger radiating off his skin.
"Anakin," she said, and for a heartbeat, her voice was just a girl's voice, pleading, vulnerable, a raw edge beneath the steel. "Please. You don't have to do this. Put aside your hate. Let go of your anger, just this once. Join me. Fight with me. Fight for all of us… Think of Padmé." She whispered.
She lifted her hand, palm open between them, trembling just slightly. For a single, fragile moment, she saw it. A flicker behind his eyes. The walls breaking, the mask slipping. The boy beneath the warrior, battered by grief and fury, wanting so desperately to believe in something again.
His hand twitched. Just enough to make her believe.
But then his gaze hardened, those stormclouds freezing into iron. His hands fell back to his side as he turned his head away, shoulders tense. "I can't," he bit out. "I won't."
Something in her chest seemed to crumple, but she refused to let him see it. Instead, she drew her hand back to her side, her fingers curling into her palm until her nails bit skin. She exhaled through her nose, a slow hiss that carried all her final disappointment in him.
"Then you are truly lost to me."
She turned to Qui-Gon, who had watched the exchange with an expression of quiet sadness and fatherly grief. She gave him a single, small nod, and he returned it with a silent promise in his eyes.
She pivoted on her heel, her boots ringing against the floor as she strode for the great doors of the Council chamber. Quinlan, Shaak Ti, and Plo Koon falling into step behind her.
But just before they reached the threshold, Cin Drallig's voice cracked the air like a whip. "Halt!" The Jedi Battlemaster stood half-risen from his seat, his eyes blazing with righteous fury. "You will surrender your lightsabers, now. You have forsaken the Order and your oaths. You are no longer Jedi!"
Nira paused at the threshold, the great doors opening. She looked back over her shoulder, and in the green gleam of her eyes, there was nothing soft left to find.
"No." she said simply.
Drallig's face turned red with fury, his hands clenching as if to summon every guard in the Temple. But before he could speak again, Nira turned and stepped through the threshold, Quinlan, Shaak Ti, and Plo Koon following close behind her.
===
If you enjoyed this chapter, maybe consider leaving me with a couple of your power stones? I promise I'll take good care of them:)