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The Minefield of Battle [1 shot]


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This is my first piece in awhile, but I like it. I might continue the story later on, but for now, this is it. Enjoy!

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Revan was walking in the field of mines, speculating about his ‘side.’ He was on the side of the Jedi, of course, the good side, as they called themselves; but didn’t the other side think that they were the “good guys” too?

Revan was frustrated by this perpetual mental battle he was having with himself. He looked down and realized that he almost stepped on a mine.

He shook his head, coming back to the task at hand. Scouts from his team had found a camp of Jedi—were they Sith?—about thirty kilometers north. They had started walking there until a careless fool from his team had stepped on the outskirts of the minefield and blew himself up. The rest of the team had been petrified by this, and had started to take a long detour around it. Revan had idly dismissed them with his hand, and stepped into the field. There were craters everywhere, but Revan was determined.

He continued walking for twenty minutes or so, thinking about the Sides again. He looked down and kicked a pebble. He looked up and saw a lone figure silhouetted against the fog of war, and immediately crouched. He regretted it instantly because there were no places to hide, and that the movement may have attracted the foe’s attention.

He noticed that whoever it was had a hood on. The attacker did seem to notice him because it started to move toward him. Revan took out his blaster and aimed carefully.

But, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to shoot. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to shoot, just shoot one shot. Every fiber of his being except his heart, that is.

He looked at the blaster, frustrated and threw it into a crater.

 

***

 

Bastila was having the same troubles with her. She wanted to shoot whoever the hooded foe was, but her finger simply wouldn’t move the half inch. She mimicked Revan’s actions with her blaster, and rested her hand on her lightsaber, glad of the comforting hilt.

 

***

 

Revan stood about ten feet away from his enemy. He pulled out his lightsaber, igniting it. The emerald blade painting a beautiful hue across the ground around him. If it’s a normal soldier, the blade will scare him, he thought, though he knew that no soldier could cross the minefield without having seriously good luck.

The Jedi—or again, he thought, Sith?—took out its own blade and lighting the cobalt blade. Its navy color was displayed vivaciously.

They stared at each other for a long time, neither making a move. His enemy made an ever so slight change in its weight before it attacked. Revan noticed this and pulled his blade up to a defense position before its saber could strike him.

He rolled to his left, and—nearly hitting a mine in the process—swung at its feet.

It leaped, and Revan caught a glimpse of its rear-end. He recognized that it was a woman, and thought to himself how comical it would have been from an outsider’s perspective. The mighty Revan was looking at a woman’s butt—and finding it quite nice—in the middle of an epic duel in a minefield.

Revan couldn’t help himself, he let out the tiniest of chuckles.

He shook his head again, and continued the brutal duel.

 

After ten minutes of crude fighting, neither had let up. Revan realized that he was holding back because his attacker was a woman. He knew that he shouldn’t, but it was natural for a man to not go full out when fighting a woman.

His assailant seemed to have noticed this too. “Holding back because I’m a woman? Well, DON’T!” She yelled the last part.

 

***

 

Bastila was frustrated at her opponent. He was holding back because she was a woman. The first decent duel she had in seemingly ages, and he wasn’t even going full out. He seemed to take her words to heart however, the duel became much more intense.

The fight was faster, their blade painting a brilliant hue against the setting sun. Bastila hadn’t pushed herself this far since she had dueled Revan back at the academy.

She could feel herself slipping, she noticed that she was becoming more defensive by the passing second. Her few attacks were futile at best. They had lost track of time, but Bastila was sure that they’d been fighting for hours, yet her opponent still seemed to be at complete ease with his saber.

Bastila barely parried one of his blows, and tried to take a step back, but tripped over a twig. Her lightsaber went flying. She was aware that she was probably about to fall on a mine and blow herself to oblivion, though unbeknownst to her, Revan had slightly altered her path on to safe ground.

When she felt herself fall onto ground, she winced at the pain in her back. She prepared herself for the death blow that was sure to come, yet it never came. She lay there for about ten seconds, before she could work up the courage to sit up. She lifted her torso up and saw her enemy walking away. Despite that fact that he had had opportunities to kill her and had saved her life, she felt angry at him.

“Is that it?! IS THAT IT?!” she yelled after him.

“I won’t kill someone that could have killed me,” he replied. His voice was soft, but the slight wind carried it to her.

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