Log:The Force: As One
The four were all connected through the force, anchored to the Zelosian taking on the Light and Dark, a unit of sorts that cajoled Qutha to give in to his fear that they would die, to the anger at how this came to be. Floating in the midst of the bridge while Achlys communicated with the systems that were still panicking, if not less so for the work of she, Kalus and Zev in engineering.
The station was a skeleton of its former self, with tertiary portions jettisoned to reduce the mass being clawed at by the Maw. The entire structure was shaking, unstable, but for nearly half the sentients aboard there was a unity allowing for synchronization of movements. Four minds as one.
If they can work in harmony.
Aryn remained at the station she occupied, moving back and forth in slow, thoughtful motions. Her expression was blank, eyes closed, as she was connected to the nexus of the Force, allowing it to guide her and dictate what should happen. Between Sith and Jedi alike, one goal resonated, and that was the need to survive; to overcome this challenge.
Helping to achieve this was Qutha, who pooled together the accumulated influence of the others on the station. One mind might have had the strength to guide the station, but networking like this ensured they could. Aryn's presence was palpable, her strength in the force derived from both the light and dark dichotomy. From her, chaos and calm fought in conflict, a face of each coin in the currency of balance.
There was no dichotomy of light and dark within the figure centered in themself at the computer consoles on the bridge. There had never been much of the light in Achlys, though perhaps in years past, their inner landscape had not been quite so dark. Years of service, however, had done little to alleviate that darkness. Even the Light which the Jedi offered existed, as one might say, hidden beneath a bushel.
No such contemplations, though, barred Achlys from doing the work to which they had set themselves. Rather, they simply accepted the assistance of the Force that was offered, an bent all of their attention to what was required. Such had, perhaps more truly than anything else, always been the way in which they shone. To find the heart of the matter and find the surest way there. For now, it remained for them to continue to coax the station's systems into compliance.
The lepi was doing his best to keep focus as they linked. With his attention on the few station controls that were still working at his fingertips. His eyes remained closed, focused only on the connection between the group. He was ready to help however he could, and ready to let the Force guide him. Whatever came next, it was as the Force willed it.
"Guide one another."
The voice was his but not spoken. The Zelosian's thoughts cast to those around him, eased by the eddies and streams of power that they rode on. The station juddered and systems screamed of gravitational pressure on the fore section indicating the craft had been rotating, slowly. The communication of one with the machinery communicated to them all.
Ones sights of computer screens known by all.
Alerts of activity heard by all.
As the station continued to turn, the alerts persisted to the status of structural integrity as it warred with the black hole. Alerts going off less jarring and the trembling of he facility less distracting.
The station communications were telling of thrusters on the port side at sixty percent while the fore and starboard were threatening to redline to compensate. Power was needed and there were choices. Shield control, that risked atmospherics. Life support for much the same. Emergency battery power.
The Maw simply yawned wider.
Information filtered between the two parties via connection through the Force. Tying into the electronic matrix of the station as well, they could feel the fluctuations, and insight from the force, thanks to their network, revealed that the station was spinning. Kalus began to share these revelations with the team as they worked, speaking to, "The station is turning, with starboard thrusters nearing critical while port maintain sixty percent power. Begin rerouting power from emergency battery reserves. Shields are needed to keep radiation at bay."
Though it was the Jedi guiding, the currents on which the living inhabitants of the station were bobbing made all minds one mind. Even so, more familiar minds were easier to catch in the stream than others. So it was for Achlys, whose consciousness reached out to Kalys, taking instruction and inspiration from the work being done in the engine room, "We still do not have enough power." There was a moment of consideration, before they continued, "We could use our connection to the force to recharge the power cells of the station. I am not sure I can attempt to recharge the station's core from here."
There a massive short from the panel that Zev is working on, sending a shock into him and making him let go of the controls for a moment. With sparks flying off the console he grunts loudly, "This one's fried. We're losing power too quick." He glances over at the Sith with him as he moves to one of the other control panels, "Is there any way we can draw some of that power down from the starboard engine?"
With the rush of bursting consoles showering sparks across sections of the bridge and engineering, embers burning against cloth, flesh and fur, there is a wash of cold through the Living Force. The floating figure of Qutha seems to shrink in on himself as dark and light war within the one letting himself be a conduit. Drawing on and feeding the others.
As one of the starboard thrusters shakes until it quite literally tears itself apart the station seems to lurch to one side, shoved by the loss of momentum on one side.
The core cries out to those who listen to it for more energy. The inertial dampeners for strength. The wails and warnings in the thoughts of Sith and Jedi alike. Anger and fear warring with a wish for serenity and peace. An acknowledgement that all of these were part of the balance.
Thoughts collected from all present gathered up. And possibilities offered. A vision like a great hand pressing against the station - applying pressure away from the singularity.
Fingers of lightning coursing through the superstructure of the craft to strengthen it.
When at last Aryn's eyes opened, they were no longer the sapphire blue they had been. Yellow and glowing, she radiated with a distinctly dark power that pulsated around her body. Turning toward the reactor in a seething pivot, the noble cast her hands forward and poured her emotions into the display.
When it was dark, electricity crackled and lit up the space, shrouding the room in an uneasy aura that left stomachs sick and turning. The electric energy was not natural by any means, either. It shot from the tips of each finger, stretching out in purple hazy jagged arcs, and struck the reactor with a thunderous connection.
Power surged into the station's reserves, and when the power seemed to wane, at first, Kalus became more resolute and focused, reaffirming her stance and screaming as it surged. To the untrained, it looked like a fit of rage, but there was purpose behind the action, and anyone watching the monitors would come to realize that soon enough.
Achlys did not speak the words of thanks, but the words were heard regardless. Not in the modulated, genderless monotone that was the result of helmet they wore at all times, but in a mild, oddly gentle, feminine timbre, "Thank you, Kalus." Achlys could feel the surge of energy being injected, projected, forced (no pun intended, but also yes) into the station's failing generator. "We must do what we can to salvage the thrusters with our own energy." No amount of power would save them if the thrusters burned themselves out. Achlys had no skill with the manipulation of electricity, and likely would have done nothing save to fry the remaining functional computer systems had they tried.
But the station...that dying, failing mechanical beast...that, they could work with. It was, in its way, simply another life which needed to be saved. And if the spectre of death that loomed in the Maw must be fought, Achlys would attempt it. And so, they stepped onto the battlefield, drawing into themselves all of their will and determination and skill at the manipulating of the unseen forces which were their greatest weapon. That invisible hand which now blossomed out of themselves, unseen fingers gripping the station and holding fast, attempting to hold the station stable, to stop its rotations, and the seemingly inevitable plummet into the heart of the black hole which waited to consume them.
There wasn't a lot of time left, but they weren't done. Not yet. Zev could hear deck plates and walls starting to buckle around them. Zev closed his eyes and held out his hands to either side, concentrating through the force to try and help with keeping things from ripping apart.
His eyes remained closed, putting every last bit of focus he's ever learned into this moment, to use the Force to keep Kalus and the troopers around them from being crushed by the station before they could finish saving everyone.
Power. Unlimited. Unfiltered. Power.
Coursing from Kalus into the very core of the ship - tapping into the energy field that is gathering like a Pamarthen storm. The sheer power gathering moving like a mist of cool sky blue shot through with veins of infuriated crimson. Wrapping around the station, permeating it, and seeping into every bolt and deck plate.
Suffusing the station and those within.
Lights that had been guttering flaring to full power, stations darkened by the draw of energy to more essential systems blazing to brilliant life and the entire statin shuddering with movement as the orbital correction systems engage in full. One after the other. The pressure on the system alleviating as the 'hand' wrapping around the station provides motion that begins moving the starfield outside notably.
Not the stars. The station was in motion.
Warning klaxons were dying. Fading. Gone.
The station ceased shaking. But the sensation of movement persisted until the dampener systems were relieved of excesses. Alert tones began to tone of the station entering a safe holding pattern just outside the reach of the maw. The expenditure tapering off and on the bridge the form of Qutha tumbles abruptly to the deck, landing hard on his side. Ethereal smoke pouring from his mouth and nose as he coughs, coming to rise on hands and knees, looking to Achlys with eyes no longer glowing but with a face looking decades older from the strain.
A whistling breath runs through the zelosian as he manages one word, "Truce?"
Smoke and steam rose up from the generator as power jumpstarted its processes and brought the station back within reasonable power levels. The conduit for this blast of powerful energy stood near the monitors, arms lowering and knees weakened, but.. they were alive. Her voice, hoarse, was kept quiet as shaky breaths were indicative of the strain and toll it had taken on her. She took to leaning on the railing, and closed her eyes to find her strength once more. Should the Jedi with her desire to strike, it would be at this moment she seemed vulnerable.
As the station returned to, well, not normality, having lost many of its structural limbs, one could say, but at least stability, Achlys stepped away from the computer console, leaving only that ephemeral, force-granted connection to the ship's systems to allow them to monitor its attempt to return to full functioning. It was towards the Jedi that Achlys turned, moving to take a knee and offer support to the man, to hold him steady, or to help him rise, as he chose, surprisingly strong, for one so slim. "We were never at war, me and mine, you and yours, not in this." This time, that soft feminine voice came through the helmet unfiltered, but low, for Quatha's ears alone. "You risked much, at great cost to yourself. The victory was all of ours, but could not have been accomplished without your sacrifice. But you took what was not meant for you." The veins of the dark which had marred the Jedi's face was a testament to that, "You must dwell in the Light a while yet." There was a distinct tinge of humour in those words, before she continued. "Allow me to reclaim what was taken." Though the meditation had ended, there was still some lingering trace of connection, perhaps fed by the touch of Achlys' hands, as she found those traces of dark which had wound themselves into the Jedi, infecting his spirit, and began to draw them back into herself.
There's no way Zev would stab someone who just saved his life in the back. Once things have settled, and he can finally let go off the walls he was holding up, he dropped down to his knees. It's very exhausting, "That was a neat trick." He says to Kalus from where he's at, "Don't think I could have pulled that one off."
The hand up is taken as the cold is drawn from the jedi, jaw working and a hand resting on a panel for balance. A small nod as he feels the strength slowly seeping back into his bones, QUtha offers a small nod before adjusting the hood of his robes once more.
"I risked as were asked've me... Thankee. It had sommat f'r us all t'see..." looking to Achlys's masked visage before he regains enough will to keep himself standing steady, with her aid in draining off the dark powers desperate to permeate and fill him.
The station's motions are slow, subtle, and while the reactor is powered it's clear that it won't last. Perhaps long enough for other craft to come, to tow it. Or just long enough for those aboard to get clear before it resumes its slow tumble to oblivion. Light outside warps from the closeness of the singularity. Where time and matter meld into one thing, devoured by eternity.
The station, and those aboard, were safe enough for now.
A comm signal comes, as the brown robed figure - after one last small word of thanks to the Sith Lord - begins to slowly walk for their ships. Trusting his back to the masked form while he limps towards the means to escape this place and go wherever else the whims of destiny seek too direct him.
<<"C'mon youngin', think we found what we was driven her for... Station's just metal.">>