=== Darth Vader ===
The heat rising from the lava below curled around Darth Vader, but he barely felt it. Across the platform, Ahsoka stood framed by firelight, twin blades casting pale arcs against the red haze. She looked smaller than he remembered, honed by war and betrayal into something dangerous. Good, he thought. Let her come as she truly is. Let her show him everything she has learned.
He ignited his lightsaber, and the familiar blue blade snapped to life with a crackling hiss. He stepped forward without haste, robes stirring in the hot wind. He could feel her emotions churning through the Force: grief, loyalty, sadness, resolve.
She did not hesitate. She surged at him in a blur of motion, sweeping both sabers low, meaning to cripple him in the opening exchange.
Vader caught both strikes on a single angled guard, his blade slamming down to intercept with a violent shower of sparks. She pivoted immediately, trying to slip inside his reach, one blade snapping upward toward his torso while the other reversed toward his throat in the same breath. He adjusted with minimal effort, wrist rolling, blade flashing in tight arcs that knocked her weapons aside again and again.
She was fast, faster than most Jedi Masters he had faced, and she attacked without restraint, each strike meant to kill, not disarm. He could feel it in the way she committed her weight, in the way her connection to the Force spiked with every swing.
Behind them, Padmé's voice cut through the roar of lava. She was calling his old name, pleading for him to stop, to listen, to come back. The sound registered only as noise. Vader did not turn his head. He did not falter. The past had no authority here.
Ahsoka pressed harder, her movements becoming a storm. She drove him backward three steps with a rapid sequence of strikes, high feint, spinning backhand, low cut aimed at his knee, followed by a thrust that would have pierced his heart had he been a fraction slower. He met each blow, allowing her momentum to exhaust itself against his defenses.
Sparks cascaded around them like falling stars, the platform trembling beneath the relentless percussion of energy against energy. She flipped over him, both blades carving downward toward his back as she descended, but he extended his free hand and unleashed a pulse of the Force that caught her midair and hurled her across the deck. She twisted before impact, landing in a crouch near the edge where molten light licked hungrily below, and immediately launched herself forward again.
This time she altered her rhythm, weaving unpredictably, using the platform's struts and railings to change elevation. She kicked off a vertical beam and came down at him from above, sabers crossing in a vicious X meant to cleave through his guard. Vader stepped into the attack instead of retreating, their blades locking inches from his face as energy spat between them. He could see the reflection of his molten eyes in her gaze, could smell her fear, could see the dread in her eyes.
She pushed with everything she had, muscles trembling, the Force roaring through her like a tempest. He allowed the strain to build, then shifted his weight and redirected her strength sideways, breaking the lock and sending her stumbling past him. Before she could recover fully, he pivoted and delivered a heavy overhead strike that forced her to catch it with both sabers crossed above her head, her boots skidding across the metal as the platform groaned in protest.
She twisted out from under him and countered with a spinning heel kick aimed at his ribs, following through with a low slash intended to sever his leg as he reacted. Vader caught her ankle mid-motion, halting her momentum completely, and for a suspended heartbeat she hung there inverted, balanced on his grip and her own defiance.
He could have crushed the joint, ended the duel in that instant, but instead he flung her aside. She rolled across the deck, came up slashing in the same motion, blades flashing toward his chest in a relentless continuation of her assault. Her determination was absolute; she was no longer fighting to survive or to escape. She was trying to kill him.
He began to advance in earnest then. His strikes grew heavier, each one landing with enough power to jar her arms and force her to give ground. The rhythm shifted. Where she had once dictated the tempo, now she reacted.
He drove her across the platform in a barrage of precise, crushing blows that battered at her defenses without breaking them, testing the limits of her endurance. She ducked under a horizontal slash and attempted to sweep his legs with the Force, but he anchored himself and countered with a sharp telekinetic shove that rippled outward, sending loose debris skittering into the lava below.
Padmé was closer now, her voice cracking as she begged him to stop, to see what he was doing. The pleas struck him like distant echoes. He did not answer. He did not look at her. His focus remained entirely on the apprentice who refused to kneel.
Ahsoka lunged again, channeling everything she had left into a final, furious combination. Her sabers became streaks of light, battering his guard from multiple angles, her movements fueled by heartbreak and resolve. She nearly slipped past him once, her blade grazing so close to his shoulder that he felt the heat kiss fabric.
He responded instantly, stepping inside her reach and locking their weapons together, faces inches apart. For a fleeting moment he saw the pain in her eyes, and something deep within him stirred, an old memory of training rooms and shared victories, but he crushed it without mercy.
He disengaged with a violent twist and unleashed a surge of the Force that blasted her backward once more, though she kept her footing this time, sliding to a stop with both blades raised. She was breathing harder now, but she did not lower her guard. He remained untouched, his own breathing steady, his presence in the Force vast and immovable.
Vader rolled his shoulders slightly, blue blade humming in his grasp as the lava roared beneath them and the platform shuddered under the strain of their conflict. She had fought with everything she had, and still she stood. That, at least, he could respect. But the outcome had never been in doubt. He began walking toward her again through the haze of heat and smoke.
The duel stalled in that charged sliver of silence as a second ship broke through the smoke-choked sky, its hull glinting in the violent glow of lava. Repulsors howled as it slowed, blasting heat and ash outward in spiraling waves that forced even the platform's heavy durasteel to groan.
Ahsoka chose that moment to use the force, creating a massive blast that knocked the clone troopers from the platform, sending Rex cascading off to land somewhere below.
As she did, the ramp lowered, and two figures stepped into the inferno.
Qui-Gon Jinn, his robes whipping around him in the volcanic wind. Beside him was Count Dooku, silver hair catching the light. They did not hesitate. They leapt from the ramp in perfect unison, landing beside Ahsoka, three blades now forming a quiet, lethal triangle pointed toward Vader.
Vader did not flinch. He did not snarl, nor did he step back. His blue blade remained ignited, humming steadily in his grasp as though this were all merely an expected development. Yet his attention did not rest on the two new arrivals. Instead, his gaze shifted past them, locking onto Padmé.
"So," he said, voice low but resonant against the roaring lava, "you have chosen your side."
Padmé stared at him, horror and disbelief flooding her expression. "No," she breathed, shaking her head as she stepped toward him despite the danger radiating from his presence. "Anakin, please—"
"Do not call me that."
The words cut through her like a blade. His eyes burning brighter with accusation. He gestured faintly toward the trio behind her without looking away from her face. "You brought them here."
"That's not true," Padmé insisted, her voice trembling but steady in its conviction. "I didn't bring them here! I came because I love you!"
The confession only deepened the fracture inside him. Love had once been a promise. Now it felt like a weakness weaponized against him. He stepped closer, the air between them tightening under the weight of his power.
"You expect me to believe this is a coincidence?" he asked, bitterness threading through every syllable. "You stand with Jedi and traitors while claiming you love me. You think I cannot feel your doubt? Your fear?"
"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered, tears streaking down her face, evaporating almost as quickly as they fell. "I'm afraid of what you're becoming. Anakin, you're breaking my heart. You're going down a path I can't follow."
He stared at her as though she had struck him. For a fleeting instant, something raw and human flickered beneath the surface, but it hardened almost immediately into fury.
"I love you! Stop this and come away with me! Please! I can't do this without you!" She pleaded, stepping closer to him.
"Liar!"
The word cracked through the chaos.
"You brought them here to kill me!" He exclaimed.
"I didn't," she pleaded, taking another step closer, desperate enough to ignore the tremor in the Force gathering around him. "I would never betray you–"
His hand rose almost absently, fingers curling.
Padmé's breath stopped mid-word.
Her body lifted from the platform as though seized by an invisible vise. Her hands flew to her throat, eyes widening in shock as her feet left the ground. She gasped soundlessly, fingers clawing at air that refused to fill her lungs. The heat shimmered around her suspended form, and the Force twisted violently around Vader, responding to his anguish and rage in equal measure.
"No!" Ahsoka screamed.
She hurled herself forward in a blur of green, sabers carving through the air toward Vader's arm. Her blades struck with ferocious intent, not to wound but to break his concentration, to force him to release his grip.
Vader turned sharply, blue saber flashing up to intercept her assault in a cascade of sparks. The moment his focus fractured, the invisible chokehold shattered. Padmé collapsed to the platform in an unconscious heap, her body striking metal with a hollow echo before lying still.
Ahsoka pressed him relentlessly, fury overtaking restraint as she drove him backward, their blades locking and sliding in violent arcs. Vader parried with brutal efficiency, but for the briefest second his gaze flicked toward Padmé's unmoving form.
She did not stir.
Dooku sprinted across the scorched platform with astonishing speed for a man of his years, cloak flaring behind him as his curved-hilt saber ignited in a brilliant white arc. The blade swept upward in a rising diagonal meant to split Vader from hip to shoulder in a single decisive stroke. Vader met it without retreating, blue blade snapping down to intercept it in a spray of sparks. Their sabers locked at an angle, humming furiously as Dooku pressed, his Makashi form elegant and lethal, testing Vader's guard with subtle shifts of pressure rather than brute force.
Ahsoka rejoined the fray instantly, darting in from Vader's blind side with both blades flashing at his legs and torso. Vader twisted at the waist while still holding Dooku's blade at bay, deflecting Ahsoka's first strike downward before pivoting to catch her second on the backhand.
The platform trembled under the combined fury of their assault as he found himself engaged on two fronts, Dooku's refined fencing probing high and center while Ahsoka's relentless aggression attacked low and wide, forcing him to adjust angles constantly to avoid being split open. For the first time since the battle began, Vader gave ground, boots grinding against the durasteel as he retreated toward the facility entrance.
Behind them, Qui-Gon knelt beside Padmé's fallen form. He placed steady fingers against her throat and closed his eyes briefly, reaching through the turbulence of the Force to feel the faint but unmistakable pulse of life within her. Relief softened his features, though it did not erase the hurt he was feeling. She was alive, but barely. That would have to be enough.
Rising fluidly, he ignited his green blade and turned toward the battle just as the first line of clone troopers emerged from the facility doors, or climbed back atop the platform.
Blaster fire erupted, blue bolts tearing across the platform toward the Jedi. Dooku and Ahsoka disengaged from Vader just long enough to deflect the incoming barrage, their sabers becoming luminous shields that redirected energy back into the advancing ranks.
Several clones fell immediately, armor smoking where their own shots returned to them, but more pressed forward. Before the tide could turn, a thunderous impact shook the landing pad as a massive armored figure descended from the second ship. Atlas landed among the troopers, ceramite armor absorbing blaster fire without slowing. He waded into them with terrifying efficiency, bolter roaring at point-blank range as clones were thrown backward in explosive bursts. In seconds the firing line collapsed into chaos, and Atlas did not linger; he turned and sprinted toward the facility's control room, heavy footsteps shaking the structure as he trusted the Jedi to finish what they had begun.
Inside the facility, the duel intensified.
Vader crossed the threshold first, blade sweeping in a powerful horizontal arc that forced Dooku to leap back and Ahsoka to vault over the strike in opposite directions. The corridor beyond was narrow, lined with conduits that pulsed with molten energy siphoned from the planet's core.
Steam vented intermittently from wall grates, turning the space into a shifting maze of heat and obscured vision. Vader used it immediately, ripping a conduit from the wall with a violent tug of the Force and hurling it down the corridor. Dooku sliced it apart midair, but the explosion of superheated vapor forced the trio to scatter, momentarily disrupting their formation.
That disruption was all Vader needed to counterattack. He lunged at Dooku with a barrage of crushing blows that abandoned finesse for overwhelming power, blue blade hammering down in heavy arcs that forced the Count into rapid retreats.
Makashi was built for precision dueling, but Vader's strength threatened to break through refined defenses by sheer force. Dooku parried high, redirected low, pivoted with elegant footwork, yet each impact drove him a step closer to the reactor chamber behind him. Ahsoka reentered from the flank, sabers spinning in a tight, aggressive sequence meant to entangle Vader's blade long enough for Dooku to strike. For a few heartbeats the strategy worked; their blades locked in a triangular snare of crackling energy, forcing Vader to strain against opposing pressures.
Then Qui-Gon arrived.
He did not rush wildly into the exchange but flowed into it, green blade carving a controlled vertical strike aimed at Vader's shoulder the instant Ahsoka disengaged. Vader barely twisted in time, the green energy grazing close enough to scorch fabric.
Now it was truly three against one, and the corridor became a storm of blue, white, and green, flashing in relentless succession as they pressed him from every angle. Ahsoka attacked with acrobatic unpredictability, flipping off the walls to strike from above; Dooku fenced with razor precision, targeting wrists and elbows; Qui-Gon brought steady, powerful cuts that anchored their rhythm and prevented Vader from isolating a single opponent for long.
They drove him backward through the corridor into the main assembly chamber, a cavernous space suspended over rivers of lava visible through the grated flooring. Machinery hung from the ceiling on massive chains, and catwalks crisscrossed the chamber at varying heights. Vader leapt onto a side platform, slashing downward at Ahsoka as she pursued, and the duel spilled upward onto the catwalks where footing became precarious and every misstep meant a plunge into molten death.
Here Vader began to fight not just them, but the environment itself. He severed support cables to send heavy machinery swinging like pendulums through their formation, forcing Qui-Gon to slice one apart before it crushed Dooku.
He tore sections of railing free and launched them telekinetically, shattering their spacing and compelling constant motion. Yet despite the chaos, the three Jedi adapted with remarkable cohesion. Dooku and Ahsoka attacked in alternating rhythms, one pressing while the other withdrew, while Qui-Gon maintained a stabilizing presence that denied Vader any clear opening to exploit.
The strain began to show.
Vader's breathing deepened, shoulders rising and falling more sharply as he absorbed the cumulative pressure of the simultaneous assaults. He disarmed Ahsoka of one blade briefly with a vicious bind that sent it spinning across the catwalk, but Qui-Gon forced him to abandon the advantage before he could capitalize.
He nearly drove his saber through Dooku's chest with a sudden thrust powered by the Force, yet Ahsoka intercepted at the last instant, her remaining blade catching the strike inches from its mark.
They pushed him across a narrow bridge suspended over the reactor core, heat blasting upward in suffocating waves. Here, for a fleeting sequence, the three synchronized perfectly: Dooku's blade locked Vader's high guard, Ahsoka slashed low to destabilize his stance, and Qui-Gon delivered a crushing overhead blow that forced Vader to one knee. The bridge groaned under the concentrated weight of their clash as energy flared blindingly bright.
Vader roared in defiance and unleashed a concussive wave of the Force that erupted outward in a spherical blast. The bridge buckled, sending all four combatants skidding in opposite directions. Dooku barely caught the edge of the platform, hauling himself up. Ahsoka rolled to her feet near the reactor's rim. Qui-Gon landed hard but rose immediately, blade steady despite the impact.
Vader stood at the center of the fractured bridge, robes scorched, stance wide, blue blade blazing like a beacon of fury.
Ahsoka moved forward, pressed him hardest now, fury sharpening her movements as she darted in and out of range, her single remaining blade flashing toward his neck, his ribs, his knees. Dooku harried him from the flank, each thrust placed to exploit the smallest imbalance.
With a sudden surge that felt like tearing open a wound inside his own chest, Vader abandoned restraint and let the Force flood outward through him in raw, unfiltered waves. He pivoted beneath Ahsoka's descending strike and caught her wrist mid-swing, twisting hard enough to wrench her balance off-center.
Before she could recover, his free hand lashed outward in a brutal telekinetic blast that struck her squarely in the torso. The impact cracked like thunder. Ahsoka's body became a projectile, hurled across the chamber with devastating force as she smashed through a durasteel wall in an explosion of debris and vanished beyond it, disappearing from the battlefield in a cascade of falling metal and smoke.
As she flew, Vader's reflexes acted without conscious thought; he reached through the Force and snatched her fallen lightsaber from where it had skidded across the grating. It tore free from the floor and snapped into his waiting grasp before igniting it. Now he stood with two blades, his own deep blue and Ahsoka's brilliant green, crossed before him in a predatory guard.
Dooku did not falter at the sight. He advanced immediately, white blade carving precise arcs as he sought to punish the momentary overextension. Qui-Gon followed, green saber rising in concert, and the three of them collided once more in a whirlwind of color and fury. Vader fought differently now, no longer merely deflecting but dominating the space with his twin blades that scythed outward in overlapping patterns of attack and defense.
He spun one saber high to catch Dooku's thrust while the other snapped low to intercept Qui-Gon's cut, then reversed direction in a seamless cross-body slash that forced both Jedi to recoil.
Dooku adapted quickly to the dual-wield assault, his Makashi evolving into tight movements meant to exploit the brief instants between Vader's alternating strikes. He slipped inside a wide sweep and drove a thrust toward Vader's sternum, only for the green blade in Vader's left hand to parry before the blue saber countered in a savage diagonal that scorched Dooku's sleeve.
Qui-Gon pressed from the opposite side, raining heavy blows designed to break through Vader's guard by sheer endurance, but Vader met him with a ferocity that bordered on reckless abandon, twin blades crossing and uncrossing in rapid succession as he forced both Jedi into constant retreat.
They clashed across collapsing catwalks and down narrow stairwells, sparks spraying as they descended into a lower assembly floor where massive pistons drove machinery. Here the footing was uneven, platforms shifting slightly under mechanical strain, and the fight grew even more savage.
Dooku leapt to higher ground, attempting to control the vertical space, while Qui-Gon advanced steadily from below, green blade carving arcs that threatened to cut off Vader's avenues of escape.
Vader surged up the incline toward Dooku in a blur, blades flashing in a flurry so relentless that even the Count's refined defenses began to strain. White met blue in a rapid exchange of thrusts and ripostes that rang like hammer strikes against an anvil, but Vader's second blade came in from an oblique angle Dooku could not fully account for. Forced to twist away, the Count lost a half-step of balance, and that was all Vader needed. He drove a boot forward, the impact slamming into Dooku's chest and launching him backward off the platform. The Count fell hard to a lower level, vanishing in a cascade of sparks and shattered railing.
For a breathless moment, it was only Vader and Qui-Gon.
They circled amid the grinding machinery, Qui-Gon's expression having changed. He stepped forward and met Vader blade to blade, green and blue locking in a brilliant cross of light that hissed and spat inches from their faces. The Force surged violently between them, neither yielding ground as the metal floor beneath their boots groaned under the pressure.
Up close, there was no room for abstraction.
Qui-Gon saw him clearly.
The yellowed eyes burning beneath a face twisted by fury and pain, the tension carved into every line of his former apprentice's features, the relentless hunger for power that had devoured the idealism he once nurtured. Fear flickered there, unguarded and unmistakable.
"What have you become?" Qui-Gon asked, voice strained from heartbreak.
Vader's lip curled as he forced their locked blades closer to Qui-Gon's face, the heat of the energy scorching the air between them. He saw the horror reflected in his old master's eyes and felt a dark satisfaction coil within him. That fear was proof. Proof that he had surpassed them, that he had broken the limits they had imposed on him.
"I have become," he said, voice low and resonant with cold conviction, "something more powerful than any Jedi who has ever existed."
Qui-Gon's grip tightened, sorrow eclipsing fear for a fleeting second. "Power without balance is not strength," he began, but the words were cut short as a flash of white reentered the fray.
Dooku rose from the lower levels. He leapt back onto the platform, blade thrusting toward Vader's exposed flank. Vader disengaged from the lock with Qui-Gon at the last instant, spinning to intercept Dooku's strike with his stolen green saber while his blue blade swept in a brutal counter that forced Qui-Gon to retreat.
Now it was chaos again, two masters attacking in desperate coordination against a Sith who fought like a storm unchained. Dooku pressed harder than before, abandoning some of his usual restraint in favor of aggressive thrusts aimed at ending the duel swiftly.
Qui-Gon mirrored him from the opposite angle, green blade carving downward in heavy arcs that forced Vader to shift constantly between guards. For several blistering exchanges, it seemed the tide might turn once more as they drove him back toward the edge of the platform.
But Vader had crossed a threshold.
He began to anticipate their rhythm, to feel the microsecond delays between Dooku's thrust and Qui-Gon's follow-up. He baited Dooku into overcommitting with a high feint from his blue blade, drawing the Count's parry upward, then reversed direction with the green saber in a vicious horizontal sweep aimed at Dooku's midsection. The strike was impossibly fast, fueled by rage and sharpened by hate. Dooku tried to pivot away, but the blade cut through him in a clean, searing arc.
For a heartbeat, everything stilled.
Dooku stood frozen, eyes widening slightly as the green blade passed through his torso. The hum of sabers seemed to dull, the machinery's roar fading into distant thunder. Then the Count's weapon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the metal floor as his body sagged. He collapsed without ceremony, lifeless before he struck the ground.
"No!" Qui-Gon cried.
Silence fell between Vader and Qui-Gon, broken only by the relentless grind of the facility around them.
Qui-Gon grasped his lightsaber harder as he stepped forward alone.
Vader turned to face him before casting Ahsoka's green blade aside, intent on meeting his old master on equal footing.
===
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