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Two Years, Two Masters

ForceFightWMe12

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  • 4 weeks later...
ForceFightWMe12 Newbie

ForceFightWMe12

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New chapter! Yes, it is shorter than the last one, but it is put together much better than the last one because I stopped being lazy and actually rewrote this one. Anyway...yeah. Enjoy.

 

_____________________________________

 

---Chapter Three---

 

“Listen, Elron,” Tadrick spoke up, pointing an accusing finger at the black-clothed man, “We don’t need your help. I have a place for us to go, so you can stop worrying—”

 

“Please don’t tell me you’re talking about that rust-bucket you call an apartment.” Elron sneered, “That pathetic encoder you have on the door couldn’t keep a three year old Gammorean out.”

 

“What??”

 

“Oh, didn’t you know? I broke in and had some fun with that other Jedi lady friend you had over a few days ago. You mean she didn’t tell you?”

 

“Why you boorish little—”

 

“Oh no.”

 

The Exile’s worried voice put a stop to the two’s arguing, and both men turned to her.

 

“What?”

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

Tysyacha’s eyes darted from face to face in the crowd, searching. “We’ve lost Falya.”

 

Immediately Tadrick was searching too. “When did you notice she was missing?”

 

“Only a moment ago.”

 

“She couldn’t have gone far.” the Jedi looked up, and began pushing his way through the crowds, “Quickly, Tysyacha! We have to find her!”

 

- - - - - -

 

“They’re getting away!” one of the mercenaries near Lussk growled. Immediately, there was a swirl of action, and the crowd was suddenly punctured by half a dozen bounty hunters, more joining as civilians began to flee, having spotted the hunters’ weapons.

 

They’re going to get themselves killed. the Trandoshan thought to himself, and rather took up a sniping position from the back. This bounty is mine and mine alone.

 

- - - - - -

 

Elron caught the movements of the mercenaries and bounty hunters as they took up position. He glanced behind him to see that the Exile and Tadrick had already disappeared.

 

Damn it. he thought to himself as more and more mercenaries broke through the crowd.

 

“Two Jedi, huh?” he heard one of them say, “Guess that’s double the bounty for me!”

 

Gathering the Force around him, the Dark Jedi stepped in the merc’s path. Swinging his cloak aside and grasping the double-bladed saber at his belt, he growled, “Make that three.”

 

In a split second, his red blades were out and whirling, the smoking carcass of the bounty hunter thudding wetly to the ground. Immediately, a dozen blaster barrels turned in his direction, and opened fire.

 

Deflecting bolts left and right, he flailed out at the nearest opponent, cleanly dissecting his chest with a single sweep. He quickly dropped to the ground, rolling beneath the ricocheting shots and standing again before the hunters could re-target. Again his blades whipped out, and another two fell to the ground, one headless and the other armless.

 

“Please, is this all you mercenary scum have got?” he asked cockily, deflecting more of the shots, “It’s pathetic. I haven’t even broken a sweat yet.”

 

“Whelp!” one of them barked.

 

A second later, Elron had leapt upon the one who had spoken, and cleaved his head in two, shouting, “Bastard!”

 

Jumping above the heads of the hunters, he came back to earth in a flying kick, landing hard on the chest of a Twi’lek. He heard ribs break, and smiled in a satisfied fashion before rebounding off the falling body and driving his saber into the chest of an on-coming Rodian. Then, straightening, he thrust out a hand and sent the rest of the mercs crashing into the wall with a Force-push.

 

“Pathetic.” he murmured, watching many of the various men slid to the ground, unconscious. He then deactivated his sabers, reattached it to his belt, and slipped away, starting off after the Exile and Tadrick.

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  • 3 months later...
ForceFightWMe12 Newbie

ForceFightWMe12

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Umm...I forgot about it? <.<

 

Heheh...the paragraphs that are oddly spaced are the originals from the RP, just so you know.

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Slowly, the hatred began to fill the blackness of his mind, replacing the pain and confusion, and sparking the memories that lay beneath the surface. Fire filled his mind, soon followed by faces, events, memories…

 

There was one above all that he knew he must find. One face of one woman that he knew simply must die. The memories were foggy, but the pain remained. She was the reason he was here. She was the reason that his body burned with an unquenchable pain every time he moved. Tysyacha. The Jedi Exile.

 

He had to find her. He had to hurt her. He had to make her pay. She had to die.

 

The broken man stood, his name slipping from the cobwebs of thought.

 

Sion.

 

He was a Sith Lord, a man of impossible strength and endurance. He couldn’t be beat. It was impossible. Unfeasible. Suicidal.

 

And yet, she had managed it.

 

It wasn’t hard for him to locate the hole in the Force that was the Jedi Exile. It bellowed across the vastness of space to him, pressing against his senses like a weight. Exploring the darkness of the Academy, he came across a ship which he found to be in working condition, with a functional hyperdrive. A surprise gift, indeed.

 

“And so…” he murmured to the empty air as he took a seat in the cockpit, the engines firing up for the first time in an unknown amount of years, “The hunt begins.”

 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Tysyacha humbly followed Tadrick and Elron as they

searched for Falya, her lightsaber now dark and sheathed away. The

young Exile pulled the hood of her Jedi Knight robe over her golden-

brown hair and bowed her head. She felt not only ashamed of her

actions, but guilty as well. In trying to rescue Falya, she had

endangered the poor girl's life and hundreds of others' as well.

 

What would have happened if a few bounty hunters had the chance

to take shots at us? Syscha thought miserably. Falya and I might

both be dead, and perhaps Tadrick as well. Speaking of which, where is

Falya? I don't blame her for fleeing away into the crowd! No one needs

to be under the protection of an incompetent Force-Sensitive, whether

Jedi or Sith! Hot tears slid down her cheeks as she tried not to wail.

 

Out loud, she merely wept, "I'm more than sorry. My actions endangered

the one I was trying to protect! Not only that, but I left myself a standing

target. How could I have been so foolish? The trials I've faced have made

me lose my mind! On Malachor V, I flashed my saber at the slightest

provocation, and when Darth Traya still lived, I did the same at her

assassin-filled academy!" Looking at the Exile, with her bloodshot,

red-rimmed eyes, limping walk, and trembling shoulders, you would

have thought she had indeed gone mad. Syscha felt broken at last.

 

"I wish...I wish I were still a Padawan," she whispered into the hot

and muggy night air. "I would not be strong in the Force, but at least

I would not cause much harm to others! Master Atris was right. I'm

not content to ruin only myself, but I spread disaster wherever

I go!" Master Atris, as far as she knew, still lived on her base

within the Telos polar region, but Syscha had no desire to

confront her again. Their last meeting had not been pleasant...

 

Whispering even more quietly than before, in the stillness of the

Force, Tysyacha condemned herself. "Dvukhsotnaya, I am not!

Such a person works two hundred times as hard to defend peace

and the galaxy as other mortal men do. I'm just a mere poltora',

a "1 1/2 percenter" who does as much bad as good in her wretched life!"

 

As she thought of Falya and her ruined voyage, all Syscha could

pray for was a second chance. Would the Force still allow it?

 

She looked to the men beside her, Tadrick showing little emotion as he searched the many rivulets of Force energy that traced through the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Elron, however, shifted beneath his cloak, his arms folding across his chest.

 

“The sorrow you feel is to be expected, the responsibility you take upon yourself is rightly taken. While you were indeed the momentary guardian of this girl, you are not her cause for running. That is one weight you need not feel.” he said, watching her from the corner of his shadowed eyes. “And as for your plights, do not dwell on them. That will surely drive you mad.”

 

“But she’s still out there…” she murmured back, “Who knows what could happen to her…”

 

The Dark Jedi was quiet for a few moments as he walked beside her, thinking how to phrase what he was about to say. “Don’t think of it in terms of danger to her. She was weak, naïve before. She will return stronger, and better off afterwards, you have my word for it.”

 

Syscha didn’t respond. Rather, her hands slowly reached up, removing the hood from her head. “I suppose you’re right…” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper, “I just hope she’s alright…”

 

- - - - - - - - - - -

 

Falya refused to allow herself to stop running. She couldn’t. It could, and probably would, spell trouble for her in these streets. The teenager ran, though her limbs were quaking with the effort. Her muscles burned in protest to every step, though she continued to press forward, ignoring it all.

 

Then, all at once, a single name crossed her mind. Tysyacha. How could she have left her behind like that? With those two strange men…and then what about herself? There was no way she would be able to survive in the slums of Nar Shaddaa alone…

 

She finally allowed herself to slow to a stop, glancing around. She didn’t recognize her surroundings – obviously. This was the first time she had ever been on the planet…and she hadn’t paid attention to where she was going as she ran…

 

The girl gulped hard, strangling the whimpers that threatened to break loose from her throat. It was a very bad thing to be lost on the streets of Nar Shaddaa.

 

- - - - - - - - - - -

 

Nar Shaddaa was a notoriously swamped planet, as stinking and

swarming with life as Nal Hutta, the home of such bloated swamp-

creatures as Vogga the Hutt. Perpetual darkness seemed to smother it.

 

Speaking of Vogga, Tysyacha had once danced for him, and as she

searched for Falya among the endless sea of faces, she imagined

how much of an easier life she would have had if she'd chosen

that lowly profession! At least there, no one would have

tried to assassinate her unless she danced badly, perhaps!

 

"If we get of this crowd alive," she told Elron and Tadrick sadly,

"I promise we'll head somewhere else. Somewhere safer and quieter,

and for Hutt's sake, not so teeming with cutthroat bounty hunters!"

 

She thought for a moment and then came to a decision:

 

"In fact, I'll let you both decide where we go after we find Falya and

return to the Ebon Hawk. I'm looking for a legendary former Master

of mine, called Darth Revan the last time I heard of him. Do either of you

know if he's still breathing, or what side of the Force he allies himself

with if he is?" Syscha waited with baited breath. She feared she'd made

an utter fool of herself once again, this time in front of two living Masters!

 

"Yes, I had felt something in the Force...although it felt more of a vacuum than of anything else...to know whether or not he was alive though..." Elron said, shrugging slightly, "And the Council was merciful indeed. There are much...worse punishments." he said with a grimace, "The Jedi do not believe in killing their prisoners," he said with spite, "Yet some of their...we'll say angrier Knights and Masters have found punishments that, for Force-adepts, are a fate worse than death. Revan was one who experienced that. As were you, although it wasn't at the hands of the Council."

 

When the Exile didn't speak, Elron looked ahead. Seeing nothing but the normal dirty crowds, he looked back to her. She had taken her hood down, and she kept a solid, confident composure. However, her eyes betrayed her. Fear and uncertainty radiated from the deep blue of her soul.

 

"Fear not," Elron said, "all shall be resolved in time. And until then...well, I'll see to it that...no harm comes to you."

 

As of yet.

 

She was beginning to respond when Elron stopped in his tracks.

 

What...what the hell was that??

 

They continued walking for a few paces before turning back to look at him.

 

"I'm fine." he said as the Exile began to open her mouth. Walking quickly, he caught up with them and they continued.

 

As the masses of people passed them, chatting and going on with daily life, each of their minds unconsciously brushed against Elron's. It was a daunting, unnatural weight that would crush most Jedi. Then again, Elron wasn't most Jedi. However, there were times when even his endurance and defense could not stop him from entering people's minds and absorbing their thoughts, worries, and pains into his own. Even though it would only happen for moments, the force was enough to make his head ring and ache for hours after. But this time...this time it was different.

 

Most of the time, when his defenses fell, it was at random times for little or no reason at all. This time...this time, he knew that it happened for a reason. Just as his defenses fell, he sensed an amazing amount of Dark energy be unleashed somewhere across the galaxy. Something...something wasn't right. That Dark energy shouldn't be there. It was supposed to be gone. He was dead. The Exile had said so herself that she had killed him at that God forsaken planet. No, he wasn't back. He couldn't be.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

One thought and one thought alone echoed through Sion’s mind.

 

I am coming for you…EXILE!

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