OBJ 1:
Theed burned.
Screams echoed through the once-pristine streets as monstrous figures clawed their way out of shimmering voids that tore through reality itself. The gilded domes of the Queen's palace glinted in the blood-red to purple glow of the Netherworld portals, their ominous beauty a cruel contrast to the carnage below. Civilians ran in every direction, their cries lost amidst the guttural roars of beasts that shouldn't exist, their forms twisted and unnatural. Smoke choked the air.
And still, the portals widened.
The Hidden Path had seen war before. They had seen what desperation looked like in the eyes of the broken and the displaced. But this—this was worse. This was chaos incarnate, a nightmare with no boundaries, no logic, no mercy.
"Move! Keep moving!" The commanding voice of Mother Askani cut through the noise, sharp and unyielding as a blade. Wrapped in a tattered cloak that smelled of soot and ozone, she stood atop a shattered fountain in the city square, her arm raised high. Beneath her hood, her pale face was streaked with grime, her blue eyes burning with purpose.
Behind her, the Path worked with precision and desperation. Medics crouched in the shadows, stitching wounds and administering kolto to those too injured to flee. Supply runners darted through collapsing alleyways, dragging crates of food and water to makeshift shelters carved out of bombed-out buildings. Path enforcers—gritty fighters armed with stolen blasters and vibroknives—formed shaky barricades at the edges of the square, firing at anything that moved in the smoke.
"Secure the east flank!" barked Talar Vren, a grizzled Path lieutenant, his voice raw from shouting orders. A nearby barricade exploded in flames as one of the creatures—a hulking, horned monstrosity with blackened flesh—barreled through it like paper. Its guttural roar sent nearby civilians scrambling in terror, but before it could advance, a crackling EMP grenade arced through the air. The creature howled as it hit the ground, convulsing, before Talar put it down with a single blaster shot to the skull.
"This isn't holding," he growled, sprinting back toward Askani.
"These things don't stop. We're outnumbered, and every second we stay here is another step closer to slaughter."
Askani didn't flinch. Her gaze swept the square, locking on the scattered refugees who huddled together like cattle awaiting slaughter. A child sobbed into her mother's arms. An elderly Duros clutched at his side, blood pooling beneath his trembling fingers. These people weren't soldiers. They couldn't fight. They could only run, and if the Hidden Path didn't protect them...
"Theed is not broken yet," she said, her voice low but iron-hard.
"If we abandon them now, it's not just the city that dies. It's hope. these people have come from all over the core..." She turned to Talar, her mechanical fingers flexing.
"We don't leave until these people are safe."
"Safe where, Askani?" Talar snapped.
"The whole kriffing city's a death trap!"
Her lips pressed into a grim line.
"Then we make safe zones. We hold ground wherever we can and turn this chaos into order." She pointed toward a distant refugee camp already overrun with fleeing civilians.
"Start there. Build a perimeter. Fortify it. Rally anyone who can hold a blaster. We make that camp our first bastion."
Talar stared at her for a moment, his jaw tight, before he nodded.
"Understood."
Askani drew in a deep breath, her silver eyes closing briefly as the weight of the moment pressed against her mind. Then, she reached out—not with her voice, but with her mind.
A ripple of thought, clear and sharp as a knife's edge, radiated outward.
"Askani, to me."
The response was immediate. Across the battlefield, scattered members of the Hidden Path who shared her gift halted their tasks, their consciousness brushing against hers like sparks in the void. Askani's presence filled their minds, a steady beacon amidst the swirling chaos. They gathered her intent as clearly as if it had been spoken aloud -- the unvoicing.
"Focus the panic," she commanded through the telepathic link, her mental voice resonating like a drumbeat.
"Pull the fear into silence. These people need clarity to survive."
The mentalics went to work. From their huddled positions among the wounded, the supply lines, and the barricades, they wove unseen threads through the minds around them. Terror ebbed as civilians suddenly found their thoughts less frantic, their hands steadier. The crushing weight of despair lifted just enough for them to move, to follow instructions, to hold on.
Askani stretched her own senses farther, her brow furrowing with the strain. She reached into the minds of the terrified refugees clustered in the square, their fear screaming through the Force like a storm. Her telepathic touch was delicate but firm, calming the chaos within their thoughts.
"You are not alone," she whispered into their minds.
"Move as one. Trust those around you. Safety lies ahead."
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