As the Champions and their newest allies finally caught up to the two Elders, they found the battle all but concluded, as Cheriss and Voldon singled out Soto and the Dathomirian quickly pulled Soto off her feet with a motion of her hand, pinning her in place until Voldon approached and stood over her, saber raised, and finally put an end to Jean Soto’s devious plans. The two Elders turned towards the group as they arrived, Cheriss’ glare mirroring Voldon’s as she took in the new faces. “Took you long enough to get here, didn’t it?!” she scoffed. “Come on, or he’s going to get away again!” 
Aria could not contain a cantankerous huff of her own, the Champion crossing her arms over her chest as she growled the beginnings of a vehement protest. 
“Well excuse us, it’s not like we had to fight off some kind of-” but was cut off as Ashara abruptly held up a hand to silence her, the Togruta shaking her head solemnly as she made a zipping like motion across her mouth, then turned back towards Cheriss. 
“My apologies, Master, the hyperdrive had a...hiccup, en-route and...we were delayed.” 
Cheriss’ only further response was a simple grunt as Voldon directed them towards the innermost Chamber. The newly reuinited Force users all trooped along the passageway in an almost deathly silence, neither Cheriss nor Voldon up for conversation as their attention was focused on their final goal. She couldn’t understand a word out of Khem Val’s mouth, so that ruled HIM out; Yerbol was equally unwilling to converse, and after a few attempts at prodding the edge of his consciousness and meeting only a wall of silence, Aria abandoned her attempts rather than risk frustrating him further or diverting his attention without reason. She could only hope the reason for his silence was due to concentration and not because of her earlier behavior. Ashara was slightly more conversational, offering the odd whispered response or smile as they exchanged small talk which seemed almost petty in light of most recent events. They had no time to go into great detail however, and it wasn’t long before they reached the doors to the chamber where Manus awaited their appearance.

The expression of smug pride plastered over the man’s face made Aria’s blood boil. Alerted by the clank of his weapon on armour, the Champion’s eyes tracked Manus’ movements across the room, her trembling hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides as she spat under her breath:
“...I’m starting to HATE that man!” if Manus had overheard the comment, it only seemed to delight him further, the Faceless leader smirking nonchalantly before tossing the helpless Voss Mystics to one side as if they were nothing more than sheets of paper. Everything escalated pretty quickly from then onwards: Manus goading the Qyaari into launching an attack, only to find Yerbol would come up short as he was met with a wall of flame blocking his path. Aria couldn’t stifle a squeak of alarm as she hurried to her partner’s side to check for any injuries. Thankfully, other than being a bit disgruntled and perhaps missing a few hairs, he seemed to be fine. Their attention was instead called to the side doors that swung open, allowing the squadrons of Faceless to filter into the room.
“Oh, of COURSE he brought backup! Faaantastic.” Aria drawled, unamused. As Voldon barked an order for Cheriss to take the others against the Faceless while he single-handedly dealt with Manus, the Elder wanted to protest vehemently. 
“But, you-!” but was abruptly cut off by Voldon imploring her not to interfere. Ordinarily she would have refused, told him what a raving idiot he was for trying to take on a master strategist unaided...but some form of madness must have possessed her at that point, and instead the Dathomirian simply responded with a resigned nod, issuing a quick instruction to Ashara.
“Cover him until he gets to Manus, then join us.” 

The Togruta affirmed the order, raising a hand to part the flames and allow Voldon to leap through unscathed, before igniting her white blades and leaping back to join the Champions and Cheriss against the Faceless. The Qyaari had to admire the amazing tactical precision that their opponents employed, even if it was grudgingly. Manus had orchestrated this well, having commanded the Faceless to converge on the “invaders” from multiple directions so as to cut off any potential escape routes and prevent them from countering the efforts to force them away from the center of the room where Manus stood. If they wanted to have ANY chance of getting back to help Voldon, they would have to cut down every single Faceless in the room first, all while avoiding the aforementioned booby traps. There was little room to focus on anything else but parrying left, dodging right or severing limbs in either direction as they fought simply to keep the tide of Faceless at bay. With each step she took in order to keep her head attached to her shoulders, Aria could see the ornate doors looming closer yet. They were being forced further and further from the Faceless leader with every passing minute. 
“I hate to put a downer on things, Cheriss...but we are VERY outnumbered, if you hadn’t...noticed!” Aria grunted, putting her boot into yet another armoured mask and sending her latest assailant sprawling head-first into the wall with enough momentum for his neck to snap sickeningly on impact. 

“So I noticed!” the Elder retorted, spitting a thin trail of blood from her mouth as she reeled back from a vicious blow to the jaw. “Split up into pairs, we need to try and cut through the middle and break them apart!” she instructed, Aria of course immediately gravitating towards her partner. Despite their recent misgivings, she fought better with Yerbol than anyone else and it was a comfort to have him close by her side. The Champions soon fell into their regular rhythm, ducking, slashing and covering each other as they moved to slice through any Faceless that dared come within range. Khem Val could be heard cackling gleefully as the Dashade threw a kicking and screaming Faceless several feet into the air, leaving them to fall just long enough for the Faceless to attempt to slow their descent for a safe landing, only for the unfortunate victim to find themselves impaled once again on Khem Val’s claws. 
Cheriss threw the creature an exasperated scowl, reprimanding him sharply. 
“Khem, don’t play with your food!” 
Aria cast a glance across at the other trio, her nose wrinkling somewhat in distaste. Ashara, it seemed, fared less well in her reaction. The Togruta’s complexion notably paled, and she cleared her throat with clear effort, mumbling:
“Oh...I think I’m going to be sick!” 
“Not now, Ashara!” Cheriss snapped, her irritation greatly heightened by the fact that one of the squadrons had managed to separate her off from the rest of the group and back her into the corner of the room. Spitting a curse in her native tongue, Cheriss tucked Aria’s borrowed lightsaber safely into her robe pocket and drew her lightwhip’s hilt from her back once more. 
“I don’t have time for this! You brought this on yourselves, if you wish to leave this place alive I advise you do so immediately!” she cautioned the Faceless as the long red tendril snapped to life, the Dathomirian’s eyes glowing as she muttered a few words in the same language Khem Val had spoken earlier. The shape that materialised in answer could have been similar to those which Ashara had rescued the Champions from earlier, save for its colour: a mixture of deep blue, silvery-white and grey, and its behaviour, in that it attacked only the Faceless and left the other Force users unharmed, presumably under the Elder’s directive. The apparition easily sliced through many of the Faceless, intangible to their weapons but able to strike them down in quick successive movements, whatever he missed Cheriss picked off with ferocious snaps of her own weapon. 

The Champions, of course, had their own opponents to attend to. Many of them were the same sort, untrained younglings easily disarmed, incapacitated or (where necessary) killed, but their current adversary was clearly older from his size and skill level alone; expertly dodging and parrying attacks from both sides with a single-bladed purple lightsaber, interspersed with Force attacks here and there which on more than one occasion nearly overbalanced both of them. Employing one of their “decoy” tactics, Yerbol managed to draw the man’s attention with a feigned swipe at his midsection which he lowered his lightsaber to block. Aria’s slash towards his jugular fell short, instead clipping the Faceless across his ebony breastplate and sending the mask he wore clattering to the ground. Deep amber eyes glinted ferociously back at them in the faceplate’s absence, just visible from his current posture, slightly hunched over as his breath came in quick, short gasps. A sheen of sweat covered Aria’s brow also, the Champion swiping a hand quickly over her face to clear her vision as she regarded the familiar face of a former Academy rival. 
“You fight like a Jedi!” he sneered at her, beginning to circle the pair slowly as he searched for a way to break their defences and push the Champions (who stood back to back, covering all angles of attack). 
“At least I adapted...unlike you...as predictable as ever!” Aria retorted, meeting the man’s gaze unwaveringly. “You picked...the wrong side, Ghaleb.” 
Ghaleb’s head cocked to one side, not unsimilar to a Nexu sizing up its prey. 
“Did I? Oh no no, you see, it’s YOU that picked the wrong side, Ari.” a triumphant cackle, arms spreading outwards to indicate the room around them. “Manus is onto something here, something REALLY big. Makes Varian’s plans look like the ramblings of an old hermit.” 
“Manus IS a madman.” Yerbol insisted, eyes tracking the Faceless’ every step. 
“You would say that, wouldn’t you? You just can’t appreciate genius when you see it.” 
“Ghaleb, what does Manus want? Help us out here and we can cut you a deal.” it was a long shot, but anything was worth a try if there was a chance they could uncover the strategist’s plans. 
“PAH!” Ghaleb snorted. “Like I’m stupid enough to tell you.”
A rueful smile crossed Aria’s features for a brief moment, casting a glance back at Yerbol as she twitched her shoulders in a shrug.
[i]Was worth a shot. Guess he’s a dead man like the rest of them.  [/i]
In unison, the Champions launched another offensive, whereby they quickly took the gloating Faceless by surprise, ending in Yerbol knocking his legs out from underneath him and pulling the lightsaber from his grasp. The weapon flew into Aria’s free hand, the Champion stepping forward to trap Ghaleb’s neck between the intersection of the two blades before he could rise from his knees again. 
“That was your biggest mistake. See, if you’re not going to co-operate, there’s really no reason for me to persuade them that you still deserve to live, Ghal.” 
A strained chuckle, the Faceless’ eyes flickering from one Champion to the next. 
“Finish it, then.” his jugular pulsed invitingly beneath his jaw as Ghaleb craned his head, trying to peer in Manus’ direction one final time. “Rather you than him.” 
Aria exchanged a contemplative glance with Yerbol, there was no use leaving in an uncooperative witness, and the man had made it clear he wasn’t going to squawk on their command. Huffing another sigh, Aria allowed the blades to cross over, severing his head from his shoulders.  

The remaining Faceless were easily dispatched between the four of them (or five, if they were to count the apparition Cheriss had summoned, which, unlike the others that Aria and Yerbol had encountered outside in the Nightmare Lands, quickly dissipated after a quick word from the Elder bidding its task completed). 
“Wh-What...was that….?” 
“Lord Aloysius Kallig.” Cheriss confirmed with a nod. “He has his uses, thankfully considerate enough to only make himself known if I ask it of him.” it would seem that the former Darth’s ‘story for another time’ was more complex than the Champions might have thought. The more pressing matter, however, was Voldon’s progress with Manus. Over the crackle of the flames which still stubbornly blocked the rest of the Force user’s path, they could hear the din of lightsabers clashing, but trying to squint through the fire and smoke to see who had the upper hand proved a fruitless task. Tightening her grip on her weapons, the Champion shifted her weight in preparation to leap through the next gap in the flames she could locate, certain Voldon would need their help to take down Manus...only to be stopped as Cheriss plucked her out of the air and set her back down beside Ashara. 
“CHERISS, WHAT THE HELL! VOLDON NEEDS OUR HELP!” Aria protested. The Dathomirian shook her head, her mouth pressed into a tight line as she murmured. 
“This is his fight, not ours. Just like Bracknell was yours. We have to respect that.”
“You can’t be SERIOUS.” the Champion gawked at Cheriss in disbelief. “So we’re just going to stand here like moon-struck womp rats and hope for the best?!” 
“It’s what he wants, dear.” the Elder sighed, shaking her head yet again.
“Master, there must be SOMETHING we can do to help.” Ashara protested, stepping forward to stand at Cheriss’ other side. The Dathomirian looked as if she would protest again for a moment, but instead scoffed in frustration before she caved and told them:
“Alright, fine then. Aria, Yerbol, go with Ashara and check on the Voss...see if you can get them to show you whatever in frack it was Manus is looking for. Khem can stay here with me.”