Part I: Malachor V
There were no winners that day.
Not the Jedi, who in a final, desperate attempt to crush their enemies had brought up their ultimate superweapon. Equipped with the power to fracture a planet to its very core, it destroyed everything and everyone in its wake. Although the Jedi came out victorious, they paid a price that was impossible to capture in words.
Not the Mandalorians, who in one fell swoop lost not only their leader, but also the majority of their resources, and most importantly their pride in combat. With the activation of the Jedi's superweapon, their crusade that had swept across the galaxy for decades was brought to an abrupt end. An end that was so absolute that it would take them centuries to fully recover from it.
Not the Sith, who although yet oblivious to the conflict that took place, would feel the rupture of the Dark Side of the Force from anywhere in the galaxy. A horrific perversion of the invisible, allpresent power that they drew their strength from. A vortex of pain and suffering, like a wound that could never be mended.
There was no warning, no alarms or sirens, no evacuations. The calm before the storm was loaded with tension and anxiety. It was clear that this final confrontation would take a heavy toll on both sides but it was a necessary step, a building block towards a greater plan. Although not everyone know the full extent of this plan, everybody aboard those ships orbiting Malachor V that day were convinced that they were playing a crucial role in putting an end to the ravaging war against the Mandalorians. This conviction gave them strength, but it also built an anticipation that was almost tangible. The luxury of Force meditation before the battle was only available to the Jedi, not so much to the average soldier.
The people of Malachor were unaware of the tension building high above their heads, going about their daily business like any other time. None of them could fathom what was about to ensue. Except for one.
He could feel it in his bones, like an itch that he couldn't get to. He knew about the attack, that's why he had come to Malachor V to begin with. He knew about the fleet in orbit, and he knew about the fleet that was approaching through hyperspace. He didn't know any details or plans, but he knew enough to know that something terrible was about to take place. And so when the fighting began, when the storm broke loose, he knew that this was only the beginning. With every shot that was fired, with every soldier that fell, Republic or Mandalorian, with every ship that was destroyed, the pressure on his temples grew. What started as nothing more than a mild headache had grown into a migraine, strong enough to split his skull wide open. His vision blurred, his steps became unsteady. The blood in his ears was pumping louder than the battle surrounding him. Numb and defenseless, he was only hoping for a stray blaster bolt to end his misery but his luck failed him. Amidst armored corpses, he fell to his knees as the storm grew stronger.
And then the lightning struck, and the thunder washed over him, and it was clad in pain.
Their screams. Agony, fear. They screamed. He could hear them. Pain, suffering. Millions of souls clinging to their bodies. He heard them, he saw them. And they were torn away, snuffed out, wiped away.
The fire, the heat, the walls closing in. There was no escape. No up or down, no left nor right. Where am I?
Fire rained from the sky. Earthquakes rumbled underneath. The world opened and it swalled everything. Humans, droids, spaceships, all ground to pieces by everhungry jaws.
Souls, lost and severed. Minds broken. Bodies broken. The line between conscious and unconscious is vague. Where am I? Where are you?
No shields could provide cover, no armor could protect. No defenses could hold against the maelstrom of death.
Loud, too loud to hear, too far to see. He saw everything, he heard everything, and he understood nothing. His mind refused to understand. A futile attwmpt to shield his consciousness from the terror he was drowning in.
After millenia of suffering, he passed out and the pain was replaced by nothing.