=== Nira ===
It had been weeks since the harrowing battle with the Chaos Sorcerer, and the even more brutal siege on Geonosis. Since then, the galaxy had only continued to unravel. The war was no longer speculation or scattered conflict, it was full-fledged and consuming.
Inside one of the many Venator-class Star Destroyers the Republic had hastily deployed across the stars, Nira moved in quiet concentration.
Her breathing was calm and measured as she flowed through her lightsaber forms in one of the ship's training bays. The ambient hum of engines and muffled movement of clone troopers passed unnoticed as she dipped into the depths of meditation, her weapon a blur of emerald light in her hands.
The air smelled faintly of polish and ozone. Her feet moved with silent grace across the cold metal floor. Her movements were crisp, precise. But in her mind, the disquiet never fully left.
Just beyond the durasteel partition separating her from the adjacent bay, she could hear the laughter and mild grumbling of Anakin and his new Padawan, a young Togruta named Ahsoka Tano. The two were locked in their own training session, their sabers flashing, accompanied by the thrum of energy and occasional frustrated sighs from the girl.
Nira paused in her movements and turned her head slightly toward the sound.
"She's getting impatient," Nira murmured aloud to herself.
"She is young, like you." A voice said. It was as smooth as starlight, rich with age and strange warmth as well as amusement. "You know, I was once considered the finest blade in the entirety of the Imperium. If you'd like, I could show you how to wield it."
Nira stopped mid-step, her saber lowered slightly as a shimmer of light coalesced before her.
There, standing in all his resplendent glory, was a titanic figure, a man whose presence alone bent reality like heat against glass. He stood nearly three meters tall, clad in polished golden armor etched with symbols Nira didn't recognize, his waist cloaked in regal crimson, and behind him were a pair of folded snow-white wings that shimmered like they'd been carved from celestial light. His long golden hair spilled down across his pauldrons, and his piercing eyes glowed with a deep, knowing compassion.
Sanguinius.
Nira sighed, deactivating her saber with a hiss and crossing her arms.
"It's strange," she said with a tired smile, "having a demi-god live inside my soul. Do I ever get any privacy?"
Sanguinius chuckled, and the sound was like the chiming of cathedral bells on a cool summers day.
"I am not watching," he said gently, "I am guiding. There is a difference, young knight."
Sanguinius extended a hand, and a radiant feather materialized between his fingers, golden-white, pulsing with light. It was the same feather the Emperor had given her after she was thrown into the Warp.
"The feather is more than a token. It is the last and largest shard of my soul, preserved by my father after my death and scattered across time. When the Emperor gifted this to you… he gave you me."
"I have been watching. Healing. Growing. But the threat of Chaos is rising, and this Universe has never needed its heroes more."
With a single motion, Sanguinius closed his hand around the feather, and a sword of ethereal light formed, its blade humming like a chorus of angels.
He took a slow step toward her and raised the blade in a teaching stance.
"You are strong, Nira. But there are powers stirring in this war that will require more than just the Force. Let me show you how to fight as I once did, when the stars knew only endless war."
Nira hesitated, but then nodded and reignited her lightsaber. The emerald beam snapped to life, and she stepped into the ready stance.
"Alright," she said with a slight smile, "teach me, angel."
He came at her slowly at first, his blade not clashing with hers, but guiding, redirecting, gentle pressure that forced her to think, to adapt. His strikes were graceful, more like a dance than a duel, and she soon found herself copying his style without realizing it.
Each motion brought clarity. Each deflection refined her instincts. The Force and the Warp flowed between them like a river, Jedi and Primarch joined across realities and timelines.
As the duel intensified, Sanguinius quickened his pace. She kept up, barely.
Sweat glistened on her brow. Her feet burned against the floor.
When they finally came to a halt, her chest was heaving with exertion. Sanguinius nodded, pleased.
"You have talent, but even more importantly, you have heart. That will be your greatest weapon in this war."
Nira deactivated her blade, panting. "And what about you?"
He turned his gaze to the distant void beyond the ship's window before fading.
"I am with you," he said.
"I must rest now. Manifesting has tired my soul."
And then he was silent, just a whisper of light… and the lingering scent of myrrh and ozone.
Nira stood alone in the training bay, eyes narrowed, saber in hand.
"That was impressive,"
Nira turned, her breathing still heavy, her muscles singing with exertion and power.
Anakin stood near the entrance to the training chamber, his arms crossed. Ahsoka stood beside him, practically bouncing on her feet, wide-eyed and brimming with curiosity.
The young Togruta stepped forward eagerly. "It looked like you were dancing! That wasn't like any saber form I've seen. It was… amazing!"
Nira chuckled softly, running a hand through her damp hair as she straightened up. Her lightsaber was still in her hand, deactivated, humming faintly with residual energy. Her body still tingled from the ethereal force of Sanguinius's training.
She could still feel his presence, faint now, like the final note of a symphony fading into silence in the depths of her soul.
Anakin stepped into the chamber, his sharp gaze scanning the space as if trying to detect the source of what he'd just witnessed. "You've been holding out on us, Nira," he said, only half-joking. "That wasn't any standard Jedi form. Looked like something… else."
Nira offered a sly smile, her eyes gleaming faintly. "Just experimenting," she replied calmly, clipping her saber to her belt. "Trying some new techniques. Mixing things I've learned. After Geonosis, I figured I needed to be ready for anything."
Ahsoka tilted her head. "Where'd you learn that kind of movement?"
Nira glanced down for a moment, the image of Sanguinius still burned behind her eyelids, his wings outstretched, his sword of light weaving graceful patterns in the air.
She looked back up. "Let's just say I've had some… unique inspiration."
Anakin narrowed his eyes slightly, but kept his tone light. "Well, whatever Master Dooku is teaching you, you're going to have to show me that form sometime. Might come in handy the next time we're knee-deep in droids."
Nira gave him a faint smirk. "Of course, but I'll be a ruthless teacher, and you'll have to call me Master."
Anakin just rolled his eyes, but Ahsoka bounced on the balls of her feet.
"What if I ask Master Yoda to make me your Padawan instead of Skyguy's?"
Alright, that's it, your training just tripled" Anakin replied.
Nira turned to her, something maternal and protective flickering behind her eyes. "One day, maybe. But for now, you focus on learning the basics with Anakin. They'll save your life more often than style ever will."
Ahsoka pouted but nodded, clearly hoping that "one day" would come sooner rather than later.
The moment grew quiet for a beat.
Then Anakin's commlink buzzed.
He lifted it with a sigh and listened. His expression darkened slightly. "Council wants us in the war room. Something about Mandalore."
Nira's eyes sharpened. "Trouble?"
"Probably," Anakin replied. "When isn't there?"
Nira followed as Anakin and Ahsoka began walking out of the training bay. But before she left, she glanced back over her shoulder, just for a second.
The space where Sanguinius had stood was empty, yet she could still feel warmth in the air… like sunlight in a cathedral.
She smiled to herself, then continued walking.
=== Dooku ===
The morning sun cast long, golden beams through the upper spires of the Jedi Temple. Despite the beauty of Coruscant's skyline, Master Dooku felt only unease as he stood near one of the eastern balconies, gazing over the city below with his hands clasped behind his back.
The war had fractured the galaxy in ways even he, with his deep knowledge of politics and power, could not fully foresee. Jedi were being pulled into battles daily, whole systems burned, Republic sectors were advocating to join the Imperium, skirmishes grew bloodier, more chaotic, less moral. His visions were getting worse and yet no one dared to speak of it.
His contemplations were interrupted by a disturbance in the Force, faint, but undeniable. A shift. A ripple.
He turned just as a temple aide rushed down the corridor behind him, robes fluttering. The young Jedi barely paused as he passed.
"Master Dooku, the Grandmaster has returned and has asked to see you!"
Without another word, Dooku strode through the polished corridors of the temple, his pace quickening. Jedi of every rank emerged from their rooms and training chambers, forming small clusters as word spread.
He reached the landing pad just as Master Yoda descended from the shuttle, his short figure as composed as ever, though there was something… different in his bearing. He felt… older. Tired.
Floating behind him was a stone slab, and atop it lay Mace Windu, unconscious. His face was pale. Bruised. His breath shallow but steady.
"Master," Dooku said carefully, turning to walk alongside him, "where have you been all this time? No signal. No report. You just vanished, and now you return without a word?"
Yoda gave no immediate answer. Only when they reached the hallway leading toward the Council chambers did he pause.
"Much, we must discuss," the Grandmaster said, glancing at a few of the Jedi who gathered around. "But only when the Council is gathered."
"The Council?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked. "You wish to convene now?"
Yoda nodded, his expression unreadable. "Time, we have little."
Yoda gestured to a Temple Guard. "To his chamber, take him. Awaken within the hour, he will."
As the guards took Mace away, Dooku turned back to Yoda.
"There is more, isn't there?" he asked softly.
Yoda looked up at him, eyes old, heavy, filled with knowledge Dooku could feel pressing against the edge of his mind.
"Yes," Yoda said. "Much more."
===
A short while later, Dooku stood once more within the High Council Chamber. The room was bright lit, the glow of Coruscant's cityscape casting subtle reflections through the great windows behind the twelve seats of the Council.
One by one, the Masters took their places. Some sat in person, others flickered into being as shimmering blue holograms, the war having spread the Jedi thin across the stars.
To Dooku's left sat Mace Windu, upright once more, arms crossed over his chest. The bruises and burns from his battle with the Astartes were gone. He nodded at Dooku when their eyes met, though Dooku noted they were cold and emotionless.
Then, the doors opened… and Yoda entered.
He moved slower than usual.
That alone caught Dooku's attention. The ancient Master's gait had always been deliberate, but this… this was different.
Yoda stopped in the center of the room, leaned lightly on his cane, and turned slowly in a circle to regard each of them.
He said nothing at first as silence fell over the chamber.
Then at last, he spoke, voice softer than usual, yet clear as crystal in the Force.
"Since last we sat together, much has changed."
The statement was simple. But none dared interrupt.
"In the galaxy, chaos rises," Yoda continued. "Not just of politics. Not only of war. But of Beings calling themselves Gods and monsters."
A murmur went around the chamber.
Yoda's eyes moved to Mace.
"Survived, Master Windu has. One of these terrors, he faced… and lived, he has. Brave, he is. Strong."
Mace lowered his head slightly. "I owe that survival to you, Master Yoda. If you hadn't come…"
"Still… weakened, I have become," Yoda said, cutting him off gently. "Cost me much, my battle with the Chaos Sorcerer. Drained, I am. Frail, I have become."
He turned his gaze to the floor for a moment. Then, slowly, he straightened, his voice rising just enough to command the full attention of every being in the chamber.
"And so… decide, I have. Time it is… to step down as Grandmaster."
Gasps. Audible and visible in the Force.
"No," Plo Koon said, his raspy voice full of controlled disbelief. "Master Yoda, that cannot be!"
"Surely not now!" Ki-Adi-Mundi exclaimed. "The Galaxy is at war! We need your wisdom!"
Even Dooku's mouth opened slightly. This was not the news he had expected. Not today.
But Yoda lifted a single hand. His fingers barely twitched, but the entire room stilled.
"For all, time passes. Stubborn I have been. Long have I held this seat. But clear, the Force has made it… I must let go. Guide I still shall. Teach. Counsel. But lead… no longer."
The Council sat in stunned silence.
Only the sound of distant speeders echoed beyond the Temple walls.
Then Yoda looked directly to his right… to Mace Windu.
"And so," he said, "choose we must. A new Grandmaster. Two paths the Force reveals. Master Windu… or Master Dooku."
Every eye in the room turned.
Dooku felt the shift in the Force like a warm wind down the back of his neck.
"I… I did not seek this," Dooku said quietly. "Nor, I believe, did Master Windu."
Windu nodded.
Yoda smiled, faint and knowing.
"Precisely why, offered it is to you both."
For a moment, the old Master said nothing more. He simply let the Force ripple outward like rings on water.
Then, in that stillness, he whispered, "Deliberate we shall. Vote we must. For the good of the Order."
Dooku lowered his gaze, a thousand thoughts swirling behind his composed mask. In another time, he might have relished the prospect, power, command, purpose. But now? Now he wasn't so sure. The Order stood on a precipice. War had darkened its halls. And darker things still stirred beyond the veil.
Across from him, Mace's expression remained unreadable, but behind the stoicism, Dooku saw the same tension, the same dread.
There would be no easy choices.
===
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