[Fic] Reckoning and Rescue

[Tysyacha]

During the span of time between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, a Dark Jedi battles Luke Skywalker and her own conflicted nature...

 

I was on a mission. Hunt down and decimate one powerful Jedi, my Master had promised, and perhaps my own Master, the Dark Lord Sidious, will let you become one of his Hands. Until then, Dvukh, you shall be far too inexperienced and weak in the Dark Side of the Force. Let your passions consume you, and your contempt for the Jedi Order and all it stands for flow through your veins. Let it bring you power, and through power, victory!

 

I smiled half-bitterly to myself. Lord Vader had always pronounced my surname with an uncharacteristic softness, as both a secret title and a curse. No matter. I would soon prove myself to him, and to the Empire.

 

As for the Jedi, once they saw what I'd become, what all but a tiny Rebel base cornered in the galaxy had become, they would soon realize their arrogant mistake in being on the losing side. Clinging to a losing cause, all because they could not face the truth about the Force. It had two sides, and nothing could last or remain in authentic balance or peace unless both sides were tasted and tapped. Relished, as I had done with Nabooan nectar once.

 

I knew this truth and could embrace it, as none of the Jedi could or had.

 

Suddenly, I stopped cold. I didn't know where I was--on some dying planet, I supposed, led only by my instincts through the Force to this cold world of rock and metal. Abandoned buildings and crumbling shacks. Was this a forsaken penal colony where exiles lived, or was it simply a cast-off manufacturing hub of some bloated and corrupt corporation that had long since closed its doors? And why, I wondered, would any Jedi come here?

 

Ah! A sign of life--a strong one. I slipped into Stealth Mode, hidden by my newly-enhanced generator, and slunk into the shadows toward its source.

 

A Jedi, as I'd suspected. I still couldn't fathom why anyone would visit this Force-forsaken rock, including me, and I stood stock-still as I analyzed the sentient's moves. Searching for something, he was--I could sense a rather pleasing aura of testosterone about him. Still, he was a Jedi and my target.

 

Is he looking for prisoners? I wondered. Slaves? Anyone still alive on this doomed planet? If so, it wouldn't surprise me. He and his Rebels need all the help they can get back at their base before we Sith turn it into slag.

 

I crept closer, and the Jedi leapt toward me and broke my cover! Not only was I revealed, but a deep gash ran down my forearm. I stifled a scream.

 

"Hello," said the Jedi, his tone level and soft. "Have you been looking for me?"

 

I'd only respond with silent fury. I spun toward him with my recently-earned ruby saberstaff, glowing with rage. I gritted my teeth, not only because of the intense pain I felt but also because I would not honor this Jedi scum by lowering my defenses. An Emperor's Hand would never do so...

 

"The double blades are hard to master," said the Jedi, effortlessly blocking my first attack. "You look capable enough, but you need training. More training, that is. Say--have you seen anyone alive on this hunk of rock?"

 

I struck again. This time, I connected, and the Jedi thrust his hand over a laceration in his chest. More than a flesh wound, I knew, yet not enough to kill.

 

"Quite good. If you would let go of your hatred, you'd be even better."

 

"Not true." Chyort voz'mi! Blast it! I'd broken my first rule on only my second attack! "If I did that, I'd weaken, as you're doing against me."

 

"Am I?" The Jedi spun backward, turning two magnificent somersaults in the bitterly cold air of this dead, dark world. "Try again, Sith. Get to work."

 

With all the passion I could muster--all the anger, the fury, the rage--I whirled in a spiralling pattern toward the Jedi. I'd cut him to ribbons of flesh, for no one would dare speak to a servant of Lord Vader that way! I was not a child, nor a fool, nor one of those simpering Jedi that served the weak at the expense of the strong! I was nothing against Vader, but against him--!

 

He cried out. I'd connected again, thank the Force, and in a few more seconds my mission would be complete. I'd become an Emperor's Hand, the finest honor that Lord Sidious could bestow on a lowly thrall such as I...

 

"One." The Jedi started to heal himself, and I prepared for my third strike. I tried to break his meditative trance through my own strength in the Force, my high skills at persuasion and instilling fear. Why wasn't it working now?

 

"Two!"

 

The Jedi smashed into me, knocking me almost senseless, and a searing pain ripped through my torso. I shrieked in agony, a wounded krayt dragon's cry. Soon I would perish, and my paltry soul would vanish from the Force. I'd been defeated, and so easily! I welcomed death far more warmly here than at my Master's hand. To be executed by someone that you truly loved...!

 

I shuddered one last time and then fell into darkness.

 

When I awoke, I was startled, and I almost screamed again. The Jedi was holding me in his arms, and I almost hit him. Unfortunately, I was too weak to make any sort of move. I was dirty, exhausted, and burned, nearly gone.

 

"Don't worry," I heard the Jedi say. "There's still time. Stay with me."

 

"Why are you doing this?" I rasped, coughing up blood. "Who are you?"

 

"I'm a Jedi," he said, "and in the course of time, you'll know my name. I did not want to kill you, but simply to defeat you, and I have. Your chest wound is critically serious, but with healing, it won't be fatal. You will live."

 

I sneered at my supposed benefactor and rescuer. "Will I, now? If I had the strength to stand, I would kill you where you kneel! You Jedi are--weak--!"

 

"Shhh. Don't try to move. What drove you to the Dark Side, anyway?"

 

"Your Order's lack of love. I serve my Master out of passion, and you serve yours out of duty, I suppose. Nothing but cold duty and an abstract 'love' for the sentient galaxy, I see. I was once a Jedi, but I have been shown the truth. You'll see once my Master's hand is at your throat. He calls me Dvukh."

 

"Tysyacha Dvukh? Exiled? You are more rare than you know. You see, I--" The Jedi paused for a moment to spread--ahhh!--blessed anesthesia through my wound, which felt like a chasm carved diagonally across my chest. "I've been looking for you. Rescue is more than saving innocent lives, or even redeeming those who have fallen. It's offering second chances, and hope."

 

I smiled, and my vision blurred. "How is there a second chance for me, Jedi?

I have been banished from your Order, betrayed by my comrades, wage-slaved underneath Czerka, and now only Lord Vader has embraced me. Why would I ever turn to the Jedi again?" More blood sprayed from my mouth.

 

"You would if you knew that I want to save your Master as I wish to save you. I don't want to murder Lord Vader. I want to bring him to the Light."

 

"You won't," I said sadly, shaking my head, "but you can try. Please try."

 

As I slipped into unconsciousness in Luke Skywalker's care, I wondered if he would fully succeed in rescuing either one of us. He'd made a handsome start.

[Emperor Devon]

Nice job, Tysy! The descriptions of the battle scenes were done well, the characters acted realistically, though it was mainly the Dark Jedi's thoughts that got my attention - not a lot of fics go into that much depth over them.

 

All I have to criticize is how the Jedi Order seemed to be portrayed as a larger threat than it was - at that time period Luke was, for all intents and purposes, all that was left of the Jedi Order. Palpatine's minions would be focusing on their hatred for him specifically rather than the Jedi as a whole.

 

An enjoyable piece! My rating: 8.9/10

[Jae Onasi]

The only thing I can ding it on is that it's too short.

 

Grammar and spelling are great. I was amused she noticed Luke's testosterone.

 

The only thing I would have liked to see was a little bit more to the battle itself, and more tension--she's sneaking up on a powerful Jedi--what else is she thinking? What's happening to her physically and mentally besides the striking and parrying? Were there any blows that she deflected, or just barely missed? What was happening around her? Did the snow melt from the saber heat? How did Luke react? What other physical moves did he make--large sweeping ones or small efficient ones?

 

I had not anticipated a rescue from the dark side when I chose the category, so this was a very pleasant surprise for me. Looking forward to more entries from you!!

[Bee Hoon]

As always, a great job with the fic! I honestly can't find anything to criticize... You've definitely got my vote with this:)