This is it.
The finale.
Before the day is over, my family will be safe. And Archangel will be mine. I will have control.
The cries of battle unfurl with unabashed brutality in every direction. Archangel has hordes of battle droids, Shards and HRDs. They have nothing to lose. Droids feel neither pain nor fear. So they throw them at us. The broken droids and corpses of organics pile up in the corridors. The path to freedom is paved with corpses. Many an Eisenkrieger or Kraal falls. It is of no consequence. Casualties do not matter. Unless they are my siblings. Victory is near. The song of death rings out like the wail of a banshee. Comms traffic jolts my skull. Archangel's fleet is being routed. Their psychic weapon has been taken out. The shield is down. Reinforcements from our side are pouring in. My minions trade shots with the droids. The Kraal roar their war cries as they fall upon them with swords, war hammers and halberds.
Still, Archangel fights on. Droids must follow their programming to the letter, no matter whether the odds are against them or not. I tire of these games. Droids fall. I disremember them with my blade, crush them with the Force or tear out their power cores with my bare hand. Their melted circuitry raises an ozone reek. Others suddenly succumb to my influence and turn their weapons on Archangel. Smoke coils from my armour. My synthetic flesh is torn and ripped. Just a bit further. The control centre looms ahead. Amidst the chaos of battle, the cries of wounded soldiers and the thunder of explosions, I see her. My mirror. My sister. She is the spitting image of Siobhan...of me. The Force coalesces around her. She is far stronger than Alexia, Thuella or Amara. But there is something odd about it. Something...unnatural. I reach out, and I sense only emptiness. There is no recognition in her eyes.
“Caoimhe.“ I hesitate. An error. She looks at me, and suddenly a ray shield surrounds me. Bolts of electricity claw at me from above. So intense that I am forced to my knees. Circuits blow up or malfunction, commands do not travel to my limbs and my brain box heats up. It is getting way too hot inside it. Power flows through my right hand and I force it to move, all but slamming it against the shimmering barrier. Mechu-deru surges through it and the ray shield dissipates.I stand mechanically, and advance. Blaster bolts and high-powered slug rounds bombard me. Droids that bare my path are tossed hither and zither. I don't have time for his crap. Only she matters. Caoimhe is family.
Lightning blasts from her hands. I have just about enough time to angle my blade and catch the forking arcs of electricity as they claw towards me. Some of the blistering energy slips past my guard and the countermeasures of my armour. My body shakes. It can be managed. I push on. I can take it. A blast of telekinetic energy ripples from me. Modulated to break her concentration, push her back and knock her into the ground. She can handle a couple bruises. I could make it more powerful. Strong enough to break bones. I won't.
She hits the ground. No sound escapes her, save for the thud caused by her fall. It is like...fighting a droid, except she has no cybernetics. She rolls, deftly avoiding a shot from the ion paddle beamer embedded inside my wrist. Then I feel power build up inside her, then suddenly part of the ceiling above me caves in. I dodge a column of debris as drops down. Another crashes against a barrier and I fling it away. “Stand down,“ I growl. “If I wanted it you'd be dead already. Stop, sister. I'm here to help you!“ She's not herself. Archangel has twisted her. She's family. One of the only people that matter. The only ones in this world.
The distance between us grows shorter and shorter. Then she strikes. I am a creature of metal, circuitry and servos. Beneath an organic coating, my entire body is mechanical. Save for one thing. The part that ensures I am still myself and allows me to touch the Force. My brain.I had forgotten what pain felt like. I can be riddled with blaster bolts, mauled by the teeth of an enormous sand wurm, ragdolled by a Rancor or scorched by a lightsabre and while my body will be damaged, I will not feel a thing. Caoimhe reminds me what it is like.
Her mind is like a javelin and she slices through my barrier. I have never had cause to devote much time to shielding it. When it strikes, it is like a thousand burning spines being inserted into her brain, like being burned and frozen and torn apart all at once. This is not good. I cannot think. I cannot will my body to move. I fight against it, pushing back with a fury I am unused to. Invisible chains have wrapped around my mind. Then I see her. Thuella. Sweet, innocent Thuella as she awoke in her cloning tank. Smiling at me, eyes so full of trust. And I see myself wrap my mechanical hand around her throat and crush it.