Purge (Star Wars)

Touching the Darkness

A few hours later Ilyana stands on a rooftop on the fourth terrace surveying the city around her. The sun has begun to set and the last orange rays bathe the city in a warm glow but mix with the smoke and ash to create an eerie haze. There is no denying that the city is in its death throes. Odoan had given her their radio frequency so she could listen to reports on the enemy's movements and get to critical locations as quickly as possible and she had responded to as many calls for help as she could. However, the city is so massive that she has had to rely on the Force to get around quickly enough to be of any help and the last time she tried to make a jump she had felt the ripple waver as if it might slip out from under her.

I'm getting tired. I don't usually tire this easily. It must be the Force, I'm not used to it, much less using it like this. It's more draining than I expected.

Ilyana knew before coming here that this was not a battle to be won, but a tidal wave to be held back as long as possible. Still, each victory came with more losses. One step forward, three steps back is disheartening and she wonders how much longer she will be able to keep this up.

Her comms crackle to life, "We need backup!" an unknown voice breaks through, "Drop ships are landing in the main market square!"

Ilyana turns her attention back from the burning city and onto the task at hand. Time to go! This battle won't slow down for me.

Once again she focuses on the Force between objects but this time it takes much longer for her to make sense of the space and when she steps into it, she knows immediately that something is wrong. Just before reaching the level below, her connection slips away and the waves evaporate completely. With no way to slow her descent, she slams onto a rooftop a few terraces down with such a force that she thought she might lose consciousness.

She opens her eyes through the pain to find herself in a seated position, her back against the low rooftop wall on the far side from where she had lept and staring back up the mountain. For a minute that felt like an age, she watched carrion birds circle above the city, swinging wide to avoid towers of smoke billowing up from below. Voices are speaking over the comms but she cannot make out what they are saying. Slowly, the tunnel around her vision begins to clear and she starts to take stock of her body.

Nothing seems to be broken, just sore. I will definitely be bruised later.

She drops her weight fully back against the wall again and sighs.

"Damn," she whispers, knowing that she was not yet trained enough to use the Force to such extremes. She had wanted so badly to make up for the years she had helped the Empire bring horror down on others that she pushed too hard.

I should hold back for now or next time could be catastrophic.

The voice from earlier comes over her comms again. "Another wave of drop ships incoming! We can't hold the market much longer!"

She urges herself to her feet and rushes to the side of the rooftop facing the market. She may not have landed how she had hoped, but she does have a direct line of sight to the market square and the approaching drop ship. The market is a massive open bazaar covering nearly as much area as a dozen city blocks. It begins at the center of the crescent wall where the main gate into the city is located and creates another crescent curving inward into the city. The buildings around the outer rim house shops, cantinas, and artisans of all kinds. In the center stands a large ornate trading post where incoming merchandise was delivered and distributed to the shops and vendors. The open space between the shops and the trading post is speckled with the remains of vendor carts, tents, and booths that have been splintered and obliterated by the aerial bombardment.