Arrival; Run!

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Docking Bay.

It was interrupted, the Sith's attack, and in a way which startled Nejaa as well. The blaster bolt faltered through a weave of sword-work until it burned deeply into low grade durasteel; the wall(s) of canisters around them. Faltering, and taking a suddenly defensive stance, the insect of a creature hissed in angry chatter and whipped both blades round to face each opponent anew. Although Nejaa couldn't force a grin now, it would perhaps come to him later in though of their [Torin and his own] tactical advantage. Unlike the others of the order, they hardly relied completely on one blade. Their strengths were much more varied, and covered more grounds than that.

"Take me as your opponent, filth. I'll show you who the weak race is."

"Give up while you still can."

He almost pleaded, as if there was some real concern there. And there was. Slaying one of the Sith meant dealing with each and every contact he had. And a Sith's friends were never good people to have hate you. He knew this from experience, unfortunately. Nevertheless, it was better than being slain right then and there by their altered, unnatural crimson blade. But the sith did not return anything verbal, this time it only attacked, and in one fluid motion. A vicious onslought of strikes with his left hand, keeping his right side and half of his focus on the older Jedi; now brandishing a long ranged offensive. In truth, the duelist lightsaber form sacrificed its power against long ranged attacks to become the most deadly in lightsaber prowess specifically. The Sith's silence, then, might have been out of discomfort. His strikes were each aimed to be critical, though hasty speed took away the edge of refinement and Nejaa was able to push aside the first few strikes.

"Torin-- aim low!!"

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

Torin scowled in retaliation to the Sith's advancement on Nejaa once again. Obediently, he began firing at the knobbed ankles of the bipedal insect. All the while, he kept a third eye on his environment, searching for a way to end this quickly. With a injured master and a lack of lightsaber, the padawan knew their chances were dwindling. But he still held faith. They were going to get out of here alive. They had to. If this Sith had, in fact, been tracking them from Kashyyk, this situation could be much grander than expected. A nauseating churn flipped his stomach. He couldn't figure out if the Sith's presence was to blame or if there was something else - something out of sight.

The Sith writhed wildly as it tried to both block the blaster fire and ward off the other Jedi. Fury took hold of what could pass for expression on the bug's face - its bulbous eyes like merciless voids. With a stringy arm he whipped the saber into a high-speed, spinning throw.

Torin reacted quickly. Bending his knees, he let his body drop back toward the floor. The red saber spun over him, barely missing his nose as it passed. Long before hitting the floor, Torin would use the momentum provided by a weaker force push to the ground to bring himself back to a standing position. The red saber stabbed into one of the large crates just behind the padawan. He sheathed his blaster, grabbed the still activated blade from the ruble, and charged at the Sith - now down to one light saber . "It's too late for you, Sith! Your crimes against the Jedi will never be forgiven!" The tone of his words spoke of more than they revealed. With a wildly aggressive offense, he attacked.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Docking Bay.

The tides were turning, and in battle they turned quickly. Reacting in a passionate display of irrational weakness, the Sith threw his lightsaber. Nejaa had not the time to look and check on his padawan, nor would he be able to help him by doing so. Plus, this was Torin's use after all. And like clock work, he saw it, an opening in the Sith's previously unchallenged defense. Left rib, just below the arm pit, Nejaa's blade advanced like a striking snake with an odd, almost dance form in his movement. Sure enough, his strike connected, so he followed through with a swift pull. Szzrrshszll--fft. The bug's arm dropped, nearly the whole thing and holding his second lightsaber, too. Nejaa's eyes opened in a second's micro expression, the feeling of causing so much pain always and apparently invigorating. The air stunk of fowl flesh. Smoking flesh.

Torin's approach, however, was never be denied. Nothing about Nejaa at all encouraged him to stop. Even when their enemy spat angry languages with words unknown, falter stepping in retreat while brandishing its cortosis as if it really meant anything anymore. Nejaa's lightsaber raised, meeting Torin's energy with his own and challenging his opponent once more.

"Perhaps now words sound the better option, hmm Sith?"

"Grach'ch'ta tut'ka ooouuuuk'azaa!!"

The point is, he wasn't giving up. He had his pride, apparently, something Nejaa cast aside at first chance in the name of self preservation. And the bug didn't stop there, either, no he continued to throw verbal harassment of maybe three different languages. In fact, he probably didn't even hear Nejaa speak in lower, more solid tones to his padawan.

"End him, Torin."

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

As the Sith's arm fell to the floor, Torin hesitated on his next attack as not to collide with the cortosis once again. He and Nejaa closed in on their target and stood side by side, faces lit with the glow of red and green. Torin's hazel eyes dug deep into the darkened creature before him and he gripped his lightsaber as he moved forward.

"End him, Torin."

He does not have to die.
You have a choice.
Make sure you can live with your decisions before you make them.

He paused, petrified with conflict. The padawan straightened his posture and deactivated the red lightsaber. He drew his blaster and set it to stun. Never once look at Nejaa. Instead, keeping his eyes glued to the opponent.

"No. We take him back to Kashyyyk... where he can explain himself to the Council." His voice was decisive and stubborn. He aimed the blaster at the Sith. "I refuse to bow to this creature's level and take another life. I have a feeling he knows some valuable information," he spoke as if he stated he obvious.

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Docking Bay.

"No. We take him back to Kashyyyk... where he can explain himself to the Council."

No. No I refuse.
No, I refuse.
I refuse.
No.

"I refuse to bow to this creature's level and take another life. I have a feeling he knows some valuable information."

Nejaa would not take no for an answer, and it was always best to avoid testing his resolve. Like a scowling predator he cast a shaded glare upon Torin's blaster, discouraging it completely. Though he would not rely on this alone, his padawan had a lesson in store. His face remained concentrated, a lax look in his eyes as if he had long ago come to terms with something so forbidden.

Like the gnarled roots of a tree, his fingers wrapped around air at his side. And the force answered its call. As if hundreds of invisible hands all reached out for the desperate bug at once, his humanoid body was lifted into the air. Each eye bugged, and he gasped for air until eventually it was a frenzy of fear to replace the anger from before.

"I thought we were clear, Torin. There is no room for no, at the moment."

When he spoke, it almost sounded menacing. Like he almost enjoyed it, at least a sense of comfort. All of the insect's chatter was now all in an effort to plead, but Nejaa gave it no mercy. Firmly stepping forward, and tossing his hand to the side he threw his opponent backwards, through one of the canister piles.

"We do not require the council. They pretend to know the Sith, they don't know a thing about them. And if they do, they'll know that they cannot defeat them with legitimate rules. You are to become my apprentice, and you will learn your place."

With an adamant stare, Nejaa let his blade fall in the direction of their opponent.

"Do you defy me?"

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

He had so many things he wanted to say. So many things he wanted to challenge. So many questions he couldn't ask. Not now. The boy's stubborn nature had exceeded any expectation Torin had considered. It was shocking. However, somehow he could relate. A part of him wanted to see the repulsive creature suffer the same brutal fate Korto, Kohaa, and so many Jedi have suffered. As if exacting revenge would bring some sort of satisfaction. But he knew better. He knew why that could not happen. Not like this. This Sith may have been the answer to gaining an advantage in the Order's battle against the Sith. Why did Nejaa not see the value in this? How could he make such claims against the Council?

The boys eyes churned with conflict and pierced with intensity. But Torin held their gaze. He returned an almost challenging gaze himself. "I-..." He was taken aback and at a loss of words. His eyes checked on their opponent, then he spoke. "I only provide the most logical option, master." He stepped closer to Nejaa, his broad shoulders and superior height out-stretching Nejaa's smaller frame. A sense of urgency in his voice, a puzzled look on his face "You must understand my hesitation when being asked to take the life of an unarmed, potentially valuable opponent."

"Tell me, what harm would it cause to take him prisoner? Would it not benefit the Council to have him alive?"

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Docking Bay.

"Tell me, what harm would it cause to take him prisoner? Would it not benefit the Council to have him alive?"

"Foolish."

Nejaa's eyes flared with an intensity the likes of which a human face simply could not fully deliver and he swung round, an impatient blade sweeping round once or twice before a near perfect sheathing. All in one motion, while the other hand rose to grip the force once more. And with it, the sith, rising from his sunken state amongst the metal. He still tried to resist, but it was clear he was defeated.

"Such foolishness. Do you know what the holy council does with these?"

The bug began to choke once more, gagging for air and reaching wildly. Nejaa didn't let it linger like this for long, back stepping and carrying his hands over and around to throw their victim not three feet before himself. He met Torin again with that flame filled glare and turned back. "They will ask nicely for our information, they will flounder and waste their time with legalities while their fellow Jedi slaughter countless dozens on the field of battle." He had taken a step forward, now holding the sith by his slender neck.

"If you have something you--"

"You're all dead-- you're--... they're... probably all dead b-by... now..."

"Speak clearly or never again, sith."

"Heh... heh... you can't scare me... heh-- Jedi, I've... I've already killed... Kashyyk..."

"... Kashyyk?"

"... Kashyyk... burns... your Jedi... buuurn..."

Oh no. A pit cleared itself inside Nejaa's stomach, and he dropped the sith entirely. The outdated droid from before did not stand long against a deactivating pulse of the force, a wave of Nejaa's hand which sent it whizzing backwards and into slumber. All the while, the sith's laughter drawled on, relishing in the anxiety he caused the boy in his last moments of life. Nejaa rose to a shaky stand, fear and hatred mixed like blood and water.

"I came... only because you left... j-just in time, Jedi... you left the others... be-- behind..."

Nejaa made a grab for his lightsaber, but he was interrupted. A thick stream of lightning shot straight at him, crackling from the sith's fingers with a deep purple color. He had not the time to deflect and instead took the attack without any defense, coiling backwards and unleashing a scream. The sith screamed as well, drawing its power from the dark side to intensify the voltage. Stumbling over his own footwork, Nejaa quickly fell to his knees and dipped in on himself.

"Kashyyk burns, I killed your masters myself, your CHILDREN!! YOU WOULD PROTECT ME!? Kueheheehehehhe--!!"

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

Torin's eyes fell open wide in dismay as Nejaa lifted the creature with the force, seemingly choking the life out of it. This was dark, not like a Jedi the Ace had ever witnessed before. He observed the boy's display of power as he unravelled his real opinion of the Jedi council. There was validity in his words. But no compassion or loyalty; no rationality. The Jedi Order may not have been perfect in the way of efficiency but at least their intent always held true to the light side of the force. The council devoted their life to protecting the light. Their goal was to promote a united, fair, and harmonious galaxy. They served the people of the Republic, democracy, peace. How could this boy - apparently anointed Jedi Knight - disrespect them in such a way?

The Sith's broken words were sudden but unmistakable. They left a static energy in the silent low hum of the docking bay. A weight dropped to the back of the pilot's gut; his eyes hung wide for a moment as the reality of the situation sunk in. Images of Jedi star fighters exploding through Coruscant space taunted him. The plump cheeks and round eyes of a Togrutan youngling he helped train on Kashyyyk stared through his memories. Was there no end to the evil the dark side could create? It was unforgivable and could not go unpunished.

In a sudden eruption of movement, the Sith generated a dangerous bolt that crawled about the younger Jedi in a violent dance. His pained cry jolted Torin into a quick reaction. "Nejaa-- No!" At a moment's notice, both the red and blue blades emerged from their hilts and sliced through the creature's only remaining arm as it out stretched to Nejaa. Another thud as another hunk of flesh hit the durasteel floor. The padawan took a moment to call on the force with enough momentum to push the insect back into the rubble it had fallen into earlier. The tip of the crimson blade rested just below its odd lower jaw, inches from its thin neck.

"You boast as though you've already won, Sith. Do feel victorious?! Do you feel as though you're role here held some sort of importance?! You are nothing. You are a coward and a fool. It matters not how much power you think you have. It's not our power but what we fight for that will insure our victory." The light tug of the small Togrutan's hand on Torin's pant leg - another memory fed the growing flame. He scowled pushing the saber closer to the bug's bobbing gullet.

How... How am I suppose to allow it to live? How does he not deserve death?

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Docking Bay.

He had screamed when it all first hit him, felt like nothing he had ever felt before. A pain which bit at every nerve on his body, and tore holes through whatever resistance he tried to put up. Each call he made to the force was answered in silence to this frenzy of feeling, his body shaking and convulsing for those brief seconds, the backs of palms smacking against metal crates hard enough to bruise. He couldn't even hear the blur of lightsabers which ended his agony, nor the words Torin chose to speak afterwards. Tucking into a curl, battling his seizing muscles, the youth let out a gasp for air. His skin, his face, his entire structure fluctuated without a pattern under those dark robes. A weakly clawed hand tugged his hood down and over his face, hiding what lay below-- hardly anything human.

Even in its absence he could feel the throbbing of that lightning. Sparks continued to wrap around his body in momentary reminders of what he had just gone through, though far less damaging. The force had been useless in aiding him, he knew not this power nor how to counter it. Unlike his own dark side magic, this attack had not the physical form to be deflected by normal means. It called for conducting, absorbing, skills which he had not yet dabbled in.

"Torin... He cannot be left alive... do you see...?"

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

The Sith lifted its head, a dangerous look in his eyes as they locked with Torin's own. It laughed. "Hn hn hn hn, yeeees, Jedi. Kill me and allow the dark side to grow stronger." He coughed and blood spattered from his mouth. "Kill m-"

Then he was silenced...

He was not slain by the crimson blade nor the blue. But a blaster bullet burnt a small hole in the creature's forehead. The air in the room changed as silence took hold. Torin had sheathed his blades. He had concluded that this Sith's death was the best chance of their survival and that Nejaa was right - he was too dangerous to leave alive. He was forced to accept this, regardless of how much from The Code it strayed. However, he would not use the weapon of a Jedi to eliminate this threat. Because he knew a Jedi would not have done it.

The lifeless body of the Sith slumped over and stopped forever. The padawan's eyes were on his opponent's from the start. He had witnessed the life fade from his eyes. But no hissing zing of a light saber would be heard. Only the brush of smoke that tumbled through the air. There was a moment. A moment where Torin just stood there, frozen in time, lost in the decision he had made. He had made it for the good of the Republic, because the lives of two Jedi were far more valuable than that monster. Given the Jedi duo's current state, the state of the ship, and the apparent state of Kashyyyk, holding the Sith as a prisoner would be too difficult, potentially impossible. Therefore, it had to die.

It had to die...​

They had to die...​

For what it did to Nejaa...​

For what they did to the Jedi...​

Nejaa... He pivoted around to face his master. The boy lay, crumbling onto the floor and covered in a mess of robes. Pain and discomfort resonated from his posture. Torin trotted to his side and dropped down to offer a hand. "Nejaa, are you alright?" His eyes traveled the docking bay for a moment, eyeing the droids that retreated into the cockpit. "We need to get back to the ship and get out of here before they call for backup. Can you walk?"

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mygeeto Sector;
Planetary Space;
Docking Bay.

Nejaa did not welcome Torin's presence easily, groaning in response to the human's low grumble of a voice. For long drawn out seconds, Nejaa didn't move, finally doing so only to push himself up and his padawan away. A draping hood tossed over his head so as to conceal what lay beneath, near human skin, breathing in and out in a fluctuating attempt at balanced stability. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to speak, but he only fully understood this when he tried--

"You forget your pla-- arghghh--!!"

His weak body trembled, knees barely working. Everything felt sore, as if he had just spent years working himself to the bone. His vocals still quivered, an odd almost-digital raspiness present where there shouldn't be; but he hid himself well, covering himself in his cloaks and keeping himself at distance from his counterpart. Slumped over, one hand supporting him against the walls of metal he growled under his breath.

"Do you see now--? The council's code, their call to peace, it cannot always be followed-- it's not meant to always be followed. You swore to follow my lead. To heed my teachings. Am I to understand that you falter on your word with such ease? We are at war, Torin-- such irrational thinking, it will only kill you. Or those around you..."

His scowl neared aggressive.

"... There is no peace in that."

[member="Torin Varik"]

 

[Torin Varik]

Torin's eyes hit the floor and his stomach dropped. Nejaa was right. The padawan's actions were to partially to blame for his master's suffering. The intensity of the boy's disappointment and frustration beat down on the padawan. He did not have words for his regret. However, he couldn't help but notice that Nejaa had not taken it upon himself to end the Sith's life when given the opportunity. Instead he relied entirely on his padawan to carry out his demands. Demands that directly betrayed the Jedi Code of conduct. If the creature's death was so required, why didn't he do it himself?

There was a pause before he lifted his gaze, taking in a heavy breath. Resisting a reaction, he felt the gash on his pectoral pull. "Peace is holding true to the Code, even in the darkest moments. Call it irrational but it's the only way I can live with my decisions. I still don't think it was right. But I understand why it needed to be done." He meant only to explain but defense of the Jedi Order showed through his tone. He was not protecting the Sith's life - as it had stated - he was protecting the moral of the Jedi. Perhaps there was something selfish there. But there wasn't much time to analyze it now. Now, he was more concerned about getting back to the ship than arguing. He was honestly just glad they had made it through the battle in one piece... for the most part.

"I meant for no harm to come to you, Korto, Kohaa..." Quietly and under his breath he continued, "... any of them." His gaze shifted to the bodies at the end of the bay. A pained expression returned to Nejaa. He could here the bustle of droids, perhaps armed, in the hallways of the ship. "Let's focus on getting back to the ship. You'll have plenty of time to lecture me then." His last sentence offered a lighter feel to the heavy drama of the conversation. Ignoring Nejaa's obvious desire for space, Torin stepped forward, forcing Nejaa to use him as support instead of the wall. The pilot's movement was decided, perhaps bold, but unavoidable as he grabbed Nejaa's wrist and brought it around the length on his shoulder width. They weren't safe yet and needed to keep moving.

He gripped the slender wrist with his right hand while his left snaked around the smaller boy's torso, just below his rib cage. The other Jedi was petite and much lighter than he looked. Perhaps the drapes of his robes had hidden it before. "It's probably best that I didn't end up the one in trouble. Your weight's much easier to carry than mine."

END​

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[member="Nejaa Niynx"]