Erected along the banks of the Solleu River and the Virdugo Plunge of Naboo, the refinery complex is a model of Neo-Classical design and exacts an efficient but elegant form. Large blocks of sandstone-like stone are sheltered by a ribbed roof and inlaid with a high-tensile durasteel support webbing. The stone construction boasts rigid, durable design and is lined with blast-proof green plates so the the roof is defended against bombardment.

The Plasma Refinery Complex is a triple-domed structure and located alongside the city's main hangar. Within the first of the three domed structures closest to the hangar lies the seemingly-bottomless extracting shaft. A hemispherical chamber with black paneled walls that constantly monitors and compensates for pressure changes, the shaft is crisscrossed by several concentric rings of catwalks. A series of twelve, evenly-spaced acceleration shafts extend from the bottom of the pit to disappear into the ceiling. A thermal carbon membrane contains the plasma that is forced out of the core and upward through vacuum suction.

The city’s power generator rests on the other side of the acceleration shaft and is located under the ground floor of the first domed building. Above it, the facility's main activator and purification chamber sits below a corridor of laser gates. The corridor, comprising of several doors that lock into position and hold back potentially dangerous quantities of power outputs, leads into the generator’s core.

Another massive shaft plummets into the heart of the reactor at the center of the generator’s core and is surrounded by a circular catwalk that extends to the walls of the smaller, cylindrical building. Along the sides of the shaft, high-energy particle coils are employed when excessive plasma slough needs to be curtailed.

The central building is, in fact, a drum-shaped holding tank of refined plasma. Mass amounts of energy is gathered below the recirculation lid at the top of the tank, this reduces the oxygen levels in the chamber in order to preserve the vacuum maintained in the tank.

“I know you are there,” Atyiru’s voice echoed through the large open void, crashing over the gentle buzz of the plasma feeds.

“I wasn’t hiding, merely watching. I would imagine the Shadow Lady could appreciate the notion,” Xen’Mordin’s voice gently wafted from a walkway above.

“And what would an Emperor want to watch me for?” Atyiru questioned. There came a clang of boots hitting the metal walkway behind her. She turned to face her fellow Consul.

“Do you really think we wouldn’t be keeping an eye on you, on the lotus?”

The Arconan shrugged.

“Well then again, I guess you wouldn’t understand keeping an eye on anything would you?” Xen continued clearly vocalizing his train of thought.

“There is no need to jest.”

Atyiru began to pace slightly across the walkway, focused completely on the Elder before her.

“I’ll make this simple. I’m not here to fight. You put down your weapons and come with me and we can get this over with,” Xen’s voice strained, knowing it would be a vain attempt. He had started enough wildfires in the name of the Empire. The games the great clans played came at a cost, often at one of reputation.

“I think I’ll pass on that offer. I have so many places to go, people to see, plans to enact. It is a very full schedule.”

“I think you’ll find some time to pencil me in,” Xen said clenching his hands into tight fists. He inhaled sharply feeling how the Force moved around the room. He slowly brought his hands up, shaking from his concentration. The walkways began to tremble and shake.

Then all was still.

Atyiru smiled. She knew the Elder should have been capable of so much more than some trembling walkways.

“I wouldn’t smile quite yet,” Xen chided. As he finished his sentence the klaxons began to blare. Atyiru cocked her head and spun around where she stood.

“Why would you bring attention to us?!” she asked.

“I told you I would make it simple. You come with me and no one needs to die. This place is about to flood with workers and security. Not droids either. Turns out they are a bit touchy about those here these days,” Xen said pulling both his lightsabers from his belt.

“You wouldn’t,” Atyiru said but Xen was already jumping to the nearest walkway, heading with a relentless purpose toward the main entrance.

“I sacrificed millions of lives for my cause, what are a few more here?” He yelled back over his shoulder. A set of doors opened, the first workers had arrived. Such a tremor would have registered as an engineering issue, not a security threat, and other than some probes and spanners they were unarmed. With a flourish Xen carved through the lot of them in a single strike.

Atyiru raced up behind him.

“Stop. You can’t do this!”

Another group of workers appeared the doorway. They skidded to a halt upon seeing the fallen bodies of their colleagues. Xen jumped, dropping one of his lightsabers to the ground, and pulled one of the workers close. He held his lightsaber’s white blade close to the trembling woman’s throat.

“I will do whatever is necessary to win. I suggest you choose your next action wisely girl.” Xen spat. Atyiru was surprised to find it wasn’t hate or rage in the human’s voice, it still quivered with the tone of loss.

"Don't hurt her," the Arconan growled. The klaxons and the woman's cries filled her ears.

"Then disarm yourself and come quietly," the Emperor intoned.

"I will."

Her fingers curled around her DL-18 with exaggerated slowness as she pulled it from its holster and flung it behind her. With the same speed, she moved for the strap of her rifle across her back.

As she did so, she directed her attention to the other refinery employees. Her mind skimmed their surface thoughts like a stone skipping the surface of a stream. Not many of them were as terrified as the woman with death held a bare breath from her neck. No, they felt — anger. Quick, hot, protective, instinctive. Fight. Flee? One man, near the entrance, edged carefully back into the hall and sprinted off. Some of them were silent with shock. But most... most were brave enough and angry enough to fight their fears, their eyes flickering between her and their captured comrade and the catwalk—

Ahh. But that was smart.

Her rifle dropped to the metal, clanging. She nudged it backwards until she felt it fall away. The Elder watched critically.

On to her other pistol, Atyiru split her focus, reaching out to the workers, passing her strength to them like a steadying breeze. Her calm breaths were theirs. Her heartbeat was theirs, rapid but not thundering. Adrenaline lit her nerves but it was not flooding her with fear; it was clear, sharp and strong, and it was theirs too. They rallied.

Be ready, her mind whispered to them, her head aching from the strain.

"Stop stalling," the Adept across from her snapped, "or more will die."

"Pl-please—" the Nabooian choked, sobbing so hard that the convulsion brought her chin close enough to the blade so that everyone, even Xen, flinched. "I-I h-have a s-son, pluh, pluhease..."

She sobbed again and the Adept had to adjust his hold to keep the woman from slitting her own throat.

Atyiru lifted the hand that had been on her other pistol's grip. "Listen to me! Listen! What's your name?"

The Palatineian, perhaps out of some bit of care and mourning, allowed the exchange, to her relief.

The woman managed to reply, "An-anh-na..."

"Anna? I'm Atyiru. Anna, listen to me. Everything will be alright. I'll see you safe, I promise you. You'll see your son again."

"Okay..."

"Good, now..." The Miraluka pulled on the Force, spinning a thread of command around the woman. "Now, Anna, sleep."

Anna went limp, sagging back into her captor. Xen snarled as he caught her, moving reflexively.

Three things happened very quickly, then: some of the workers surged forward, managing to kick the Adept's discarded lightsaber into the chasm below; Atyiru snatched a grenade from her belt, lobbing it towards the other Consul; and Xen'Mordin dropped his hostage as he raised his blade, bisecting the projectile.

Bluish mist exploded around them. The Elder coughed, but showed no concern. He had known how to play her, surely he knew she would never use something that could harm others. But Atyiru was already in motion, drawing her own blade and praying the hostages were escaping.

Plasma clashed as the bacta fog cleared, and the man growled at her with the tone of one who had condemned thousands to their deaths. "You are a fool, girl."

The Miraluka didn't reply, pirouetting away and flicking her wrist, bringing her saber back around in time to deflect a swift, Force-augmented strike. She twirled again, expecting another blow.

It came, but not as a riposte. Electricity crackled and her muscles seized, cutting off her scream as agony burned through her until the world faded at its edges and awareness slipped through her fingers. When it returned long enough for her to think, every inch of her body quaking and weak, she became aware of her face pressing into the grating, mouth flooded with blood and spittle, tongue mangled. She reached for the Force instinctively, wrapping it around her with a whimper as a child would a blanket, praying for safety from a storm. Only some of the ache abated.

Anna. The workers.

Her skin stung and pulled with electrical burns as she pushed herself to her knees, trembling so hard she nearly fell again. Atyiru turned her head slightly to the figures still nearby.

The Emperor stood with his lightsaber hovering over Anna's sprawled form. She seemed unharmed by his attack, but his regretfulness was gone.

"I spared her. I will not do so again."

Atyiru didn’t respond, instead focusing her relief that Anna and the other workers had gone largely unharmed into soothing her own pain as she slowly got back onto her feet. The alarms stopped, and silence fell around them. Only the bright warning lights remained flashing. A voice picked up on the comm system.

“Stand down!”

Xen let out a sigh. He had hoped to already be gone before the actual soldiers arrived. Atyiru raised her lightsaber defensively feeling her heart pumping her adrenaline filled blood with fervor. The clacking of heavy boots came from the main entrance. As they burst out into the walkway all hell broke loose.

Not pausing to give the two consuls any room to breathe, they opened fire. Xen’Mordin dropped to his knees, driving his white lightsaber straight through Anna’s torso, and into the walkway itself. He spun and thrust his right arm out in the direction of the Arconan, focusing with all his might.

His telekinetic blow drove the air from Atyiru’s lungs, and she was falling backwards, landing on her back, skidding along the walkway. The bolts of blaster fire passed harmlessly above her as she slid back. Xen’s left hand let go of his saber as he spun again, moving it mental across the platform, slicing through it like a hot knife through butter. Sparks flew as he severed several power lines.

The Adept pulled his lightsaber back to his hand and pushed himself back hard, scrambling as fast as possible. It only took a few seconds for the walkway to start creaking, then came the cracking, as it began to fall.

Shocked, the soldiers stopped firing and stepped back from the walkway, pushing themselves up to the entrance to the walkways. This gave Xen’Mordin the opening he needed to run. His lungs screamed and his legs tensed as scrambled to avoid falling into the vast void below. Atty was trying to roll to her stomach, so she took could get away from the collapsing walkway.

As Xen scrambled past he grabbed her wrist and pulled, giving Atyiru enough force to get her feet beneath her and run. The end of the walkway was in sight. Xen mentally counted tracked the distance.

Ten Steps.

Nine Steps.

Eight Steps.

He still had a death grip on the Miraluka’s arms. Any tighter and he would have fractured her wrist.

Three Steps.

Xen felt the ground beneath them give way. He jumped. With his free hand he caught the ledge, his other still holding his fellow Consul’s arm. The echo of collapsing metal beneath them abated as Xen struggled to keep them both from falling.

“What the hell are you doing?!?” Atyiru screamed attempting her free hand up to hold onto Xen’s arm. Xen grunted.

“I told you. I need you. The Lotus. Stupid girl.” Xen’s whole body was shaking. He missed the days of his early twenties. This would have been an easier task to pull them both up back then.

“You’re shaking, you can’t pull us both up can you?’

“No. I can’t,” Xen spat. His grip was slipping.

“Then let me go.”

“I didn’t go to all this trouble to let you die. I can never give you up, never let you go.”

“Look the heroics are nice and all but I can grab onto your leg. You need both hands to pull us up.” Atyiru gave a slight tug to Xen’s pants. Xen grunted again and released his grip on the Arconan’s arm. As her weight transferred to his legs, he threw his arm up to grab the ledge.

“Just hold still,” Atyiru said, carefully pulling herself up Xen’s body.

“I’m not a ladder, hurry up,” Xen’s voice quivered. Atyiru pulled herself onto the ground. She looked over at the shaking hands of the Palatinaean. It wouldn’t take much to let him fall. Her mind raced back to the beginning of their encounter. The pain in the Elder’s voice.

She rolled over and helped pull Xen’Mordin up. They both collapsed to the ground, and for several moments remained silent.

“So playing both sides?” Atyiru asked. Xen rolled to get on his feet.

“Of course I am. Pravus must die. I’m just not fool enough to be in his face about it like you are.”

Atyiru nodded.

“Fine then. Let’s have this meeting of yours,” She said.

Her fingers trembled as she folded them in her lap. Xen'Mordin tilted his head as she bowed hers low.

"Please, don't hurt anyone else anymore. Stop wasting their lives, your life! I can feel it in you,the pain you're ignoring. It's going to eat you alive."

"Quiet. Toss away that blaster."

Exhaling shakily, Atyiru complied, fumbling to pull her last pistol free. It took her two tries for the clasp. When she did, she threw it behind her, where it could join her other weapons in their long, doomed descent.

"Please, Xen. If I come with you, you must stop. Anna, any other workers or security, they all go free. Unharmed."

He was silent. In that silence, she had her answer.

The exchange was interrupted by the clang of booted footsteps, a new harmony to the cacophony of klaxons. A squad of men in uniforms appeared in the doorway, blasters in hand. The security forces. Both Force-users turned towards them. The squad raised their weapons. Their commander shouted, "LINE AUREK, AIM."

But...a hostage was still here. They wouldn't, would they?

"READY!"

They would. It was exactly the sort of order she'd be expected to give.

"FIRE!"

No!

Atyiru threw out her hand, focusing her whole being into a single thought. She couldn't move or breathe. There was just that.

The line of plasma shots burned against her barrier, spewing stray streaks of light to either side of the condemned pair. The first wave shattered the invisible wall, but it was enough to buy them precious seconds as the next grouping of men aimed their weapons.

"Stop! Just go, run!" the Arconan cried to them, but their commander was already ordering differently. Their target was none too pleased either.

The Adept's expression was cruel. He gestured with his free hand, the Force swirling around him with untold mastery, and then a maelstrom erupted, a whole tumult of bitter white lightning striking one man, then another, and another, making the air pop and crack as it superheated around the conjured arcs of fury. The screams were horrific and short. The oily stink of frying flesh filled the air.

They didn't all die immediately. Many were still alive, slowly slipping towards the Force as every gasp they took made their burned bodies flare with pain beyond comprehension. They couldn't speak but they were crying like small children, thoughts chanting, begging. Let me die. Let me die please. Make it stop. Please. It hurts. Let me die.

Atyiru sobbed aloud.

"No! Nooooo! N-no. No, no, no, stop, why did you...no..."

"I told you. Their deaths are on your hands."

So they are, was her thought. But not. One. More.

The Shadow Lady pushed herself up, drawing the Force to her in a weak murmur, a last request. It gathered in her palm and she stretched out her senses, finding what she needed. After a long moment of concentration and a clatter—

Her lightsaber flew into her grip. Her fellow Consul immediately lifted his blade away from Anna and pointed it at Atyiru.

She licked her lips. How futile this all was. She was just as terrible to these people as her opponent was, just as destructive and careless. They were destroyers, not saviors.

"You know...my friends have tried to teach me something before. That when you are being interrogated or hunted...the only irreplaceable one in the room is you."

She turned her lightsaber about in her grip, pressing the emitter flush against the center of her chest. Then, she thumbed the actuator.

Plasma lanced through her. She didn’t feel a thing.

Her lungs were bisected, so she couldn't speak, but she did direct one last thought towards the Emperor as he gave a surprised, frustrated shout.

Now it's your turn to make a choice.

He released Anna and started towards her, anger and shock written across his face.

He was too late.

Atyiru wobbled and tipped backward, feeling gravity take her. Some force tried to yank her back by her cloak, but it just tore free. The air went by in a rush, the roar of it so loud her eardrums burst. Consciousness was a fickle thing, slipping away. She wondered dimly if she'd be awake all the way to the bottom. Perhaps the change in pressure or her wounds would see her into darkness first...

...hopefully Anna gets back to her son.

It was her last thought.