Oh hei, it’s a chapter of emo-pants-boy. I wasn’t going to go into detail about the first optional dungeon, and then Tharash had the suggestion that it might be the place for Murlesson to win Aristheron’s interest, and then when I actually started getting into it I was like “look at all the potential for character development!” so that’s why I’m actually including a dungeon : O Also I’m trying to give myself permission to do the opposite of what I normally do – normally I try to be as concise as possible, but then I miss out on a lot of internal character stuff, a lot of scene-setting, so hey, this one’s going to be a little more laid-back and rambly than my normal fics. I also went back and edited some things in the first two chapters to be more in line with the new concept. This fic has been branching out like a tree in the last couple weeks, and there’s lots of stuff I’m excited about! It bears less and less resemblance to the Bioware story all the time, but that’s not a bad thing in my eyes. >.>
Jonathan Young’s cover of Unravel is so perfect for Sith Inquisitor (with hints of SI/Ashara) I can’t even. It’s not specifically for this chapter – in fact, I probably won’t officially ‘use’ it until near the end of the story, but since I discovered its applicability I wanna let people know!
Someone’s been champing at the bit to get back to playing with Achiyo, though, so I’m gonna have to keep going with FFXIV after this.
Part 3: Alliance
He and Aristheron were the only two acolytes on the shuttle heading to the Imperial Fleet, and with Khem, the only occupants. While Murlesson was still dressed in the acolyte’s robes he’d been given a month ago, somewhat ragged and worn after all his time in the tombs, Aristheron had acquired the armour of a Sith warrior somewhere. A circlet was on his head that had not been there before, and Murlesson wondered idly if it was a personal aesthetic choice, or a symbol of authority somewhere, perhaps of nobility on his home planet. Murlesson kept his hood over his own head, over his slowly lengthening hair. It was growing out, and he intended to let it keep going as long as it didn’t get in the way, a freedom he’d never had before. So far it was about two inches long and surprisingly silky, especially after one of the other acolytes had – mockingly – explained shampoo to him.
Even under the hood, he caught the human sending curious glances at his way more than once. “What?” he demanded after the fourth time. Khem Val rumbled sourly and ignored them both.
“Nothing,” Aristheron said calmly, in his deep smooth lordly voice, but Murlesson could feel his confusion all the more. Perhaps he was trying to place him in his memories? Just because Murlesson had watched him, had known him, didn’t mean the opposite was true.
As if to prove his point, Aristheron turned to him. “What was your name again?”
“Murlesson.”
“Right. I’m Aristheron Laskaris.”
“Yes. From Talcene.” Aristheron’s eyebrows rose, so Murlesson added: “I’d be a fool not to know who you were.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Aristheron said evenly. “And you’re from…?”
“Commenor,” Murlesson said reluctantly. “I guess.”
“You guess?”
Murlesson let his expression darken just a little. “I was a slave.” Khem rumbled again, more softly.
“I see. And yet you managed to graduate from Korriban at the same time as I.”
So Aristheron’s notice hadn’t entirely passed him over. Murlesson shrugged. “It wasn’t much different from before.”
“Interesting,” the human mused to himself, and their conversation ended.
They landed at Vaiken Spacedock, and Murlesson followed Aristheron at a slight distance – it was only natural, wasn’t it? He had to get to the Black Talon for the next part of his journey, but he didn’t know where he was going or who to talk to, and Aristheron looked like he knew what he was doing. He didn’t want to look dependent, so he kept his distance and tried to blend in. For once, he was afraid he was failing; there were so many bright lights everywhere to look at, he couldn’t help staring in every direction like a complete rube, the Force murmured restlessly, full of currents he couldn’t read, and the Dashade looming behind him didn’t help. So many Imperial uniforms, such strange upbeat music, such strange machines and terminals, and even a few more robed figures with lightsabers that made him feel wary – nowhere was safe from them in the Empire, was it?
There was a petite blue Twi’lek girl waiting outside the docking bay, scanning the faces in the crowd. When she saw Aristheron, she brightened, just a little – but Murlesson also read apprehension from her. She had a slave collar on. “E-excuse me, but you’re Lord Aristheron, right?”
“Who is it that asks?” Aristheron said.
“I’m Vany! Your master Lord Emment sent me to… uh, meet you, and serve you from now on to the best of my ability. Also he’s booked passage for you from here to Dromund Kaas on a transport called the Black Talon.”
“Very well,” Aristheron said. “Lead on.”
The girl looked at Murlesson. “What about your friend?”
Aristheron blinked, only just noticing Murlesson was still in his vicinity. “My- ah, him. He is not precisely my friend; he is an apprentice who gained his master at the same time that I did. I only just learned his name.”
“Actually, I have passage on the Black Talon as well,” Murlesson said. “Lord Zash wishes me to arrive on Dromund Kaas sooner rather than later.”
“Great!” the girl said. “The more, the merrier, right?”
<So much chatter,> Khem Val grumbled. <Are slaves really allowed to talk so much in this era?>
“I wasn’t,” Murlesson said absently, and caught a startled glance from the Twi’lek, who then looked nervously at the Dashade. She probably hadn’t seen one before; had probably only just figured out he was in the group. “She probably hasn’t been a slave very long.”
“Eheheh, no, I haven’t,” she said, with a slightly nervous giggle. “Couple weeks, really. And I’m determined not to let it change me!”
“We’ll see how well that works out,” Murlesson muttered to himself.
“Excuse me,” Aristheron said. “That is none of your business. Kindly leave her alone.”
“My apologies.” Murlesson fell back, trailing the other Sith by a wide margin. But he should be more polite to the girl, as it looked like Aristheron would take it as a compliment to himself. And he didn’t miss the smile Vany gave her master as he defended her. Yes, the message had been received loud and clear by all parties.
“And your droid has been sent to your quarters,” said the Black Talon lieutenant, while she was welcoming them aboard.
Murlesson and Aristheron exchanged glances. “It must be yours,” Murlesson said. He’d never had a droid, Zash hadn’t said anything about a droid, and Aristheron was nobility of some sort, surely it belonged to him.
But Aristheron shook his head. “I don’t recall a droid here. Is there some mistake?”
“No, my lords,” said the lieutenant, sweating slightly. “It mentioned you both by name.”
Murlesson frowned slightly. Someone was keeping an eye on him that closely…? And Aristheron as well? It couldn’t be Zash, she had no interest in Aristheron… Could it be this Darth Skotia? He resolved to be more wary than usual.
“Very well, then,” Aristheron said, and led the way deeper into the ship.
Their ‘quarters’ appeared to be a pair of bunkrooms off a common room that connected to the main guest corridor. A protocol droid was standing in the common room. “Master Aristheron and Master Murlesson, identity confirmed. Good day – I am advanced protocol unit NR-02. My functions are diplomacy, translation, manslaughter, and calumniation. I have an urgent message for you from my master. Please stand by for delivery.”
“With whom?” Aristheron said sharply, approaching the droid confidently.
“I don’t like any of this,” Murlesson growled, leaning against the wall by the door with arms folded. He hated being thrown into situations blind. Khem hovered beside him, and Vany waited on the other side of the door, looking around curiously.
The droid did not respond to either of them. “This is unit NR-02 to Grand Moff Kilran. You are now in contact with the Black Talon.”
A Grand Moff, eh? Murlesson decided to keep his mouth shut unless specifically spoken to. He still wasn’t sure how exactly he was supposed to speak to those in power. But Aristheron was used to it. The droid began to project a hologram of a large, strongly built man in a neat uniform, smiling confidently. “Well, so I am! And it seems you’ve brought me just the men I’ve been looking for. My name is Rycus Kilran. I’m commander of the Fifth Fleet, second to the Minister of War, and – my personal favourite – the so-called ‘Butcher of Coruscant’.”
“To what do we owe the honour?” Aristheron asked.
“How did you find us?” Murlesson asked more quietly. He had just told himself to play it safe, but… he had a burning need to know. Why are you watching us? How expendable are we to you?
Kilran’s genial smile didn’t change. “It’s apparent I need another pair of hands. So I asked NR-02 to check the ship’s passenger manifest. Recent graduates of Korriban should find this assignment challenging, but straightforward. Six hours ago, the Republic engaged in an illegal border skirmish on the edges of Imperial territory. One enemy warship escaped. That warship, the Brentaal Star, is carrying a passenger of vital strategic importance. Yours is the only vessel placed to intercept. The warship’s passenger is code-named ‘the general’. We don’t know his identity, but the Republic believes he possesses military secrets – our military secrets. I trust the reports; the general must be captured or killed. However, Captain Orzik doesn’t share my enthusiasm. He’s disobeyed my orders to attack. Feel free to show him what the Empire does to cowards. Then commandeer his ship, find the Brentaal Star, and deal with the general.”
“Understood,” Aristheron said. “We should be happy to assist. The Republic will regret their rash action.”
“Truly, it’s comforting to find patriots in this age of skirmishes and border disputes. We need individuals like you if we’re to survive the next great war. Kilran out.”
Murlesson glared at the spot where Kilran’s projection had been a moment longer. Roped into something that had nothing to do with him, this was only a distraction from his future. He glanced at Aristheron. Unless…
“I will lead the way,” the droid was saying to Aristheron. “We may encounter resistance from the Black Talon’s security.”
“I’ll deal with it,” Aristheron said. “I imagine speed is required; however, I shall attempt first to incapacitate them. The less Imperial blood we can shed, the better.”
“I can help there,” Murlesson spoke up. “I have some ability to cloud minds. I’ll march them right back into their quarters.”
Aristheron looked at him in appraisal and Murlesson stared stubbornly back. “I am glad to hear it, then. Shall we?”
Wordlessly, Murlesson fell in behind the human and they began to march towards the ship’s bridge. His hearts were beginning to beat faster and he forced himself to stay calm. Technically, this was no different from anything he’d done on Korriban.
Except it was, it was completely different. He was on a spaceship, he was armed with a lightsaber he’d used once in his life, he had allies – plural – and there were all kinds of politics going on that he didn’t know the nuances of. And the Grand Moff’s implication had been that their task was going to be exceptionally difficult, even if he had also said “straightforward”. There was probably going to be open fighting. He’d never been involved in open fighting. With blasters.
He couldn’t show weakness in front of anyone here, least of all Khem. He’d just have to wing it and pretend he knew what he was doing. If he died, it didn’t matter. If he survived and was helpful, Aristheron might finally notice him as a potential ally. One step at a time, right?
First step: get Aristheron to the bridge without anyone dying. Given how well he know how to use his lightsaber, it was probably easier to bend all their minds than to stab them all, anyway. Now the challenge would be: how many guards would there be, and could he handle them all at the same time? Especially the ones who were going to be alert. He flexed his fingers. Such an action didn’t help him control the Force any better, but it reassured him. But he was going to need as much power as he could muster, and let his fear and hatred well up around his chest, even as he hid himself in plain sight, shuffling obsequiously behind Aristheron.
There was a force-field gate across the corridor leading to the bridge, and four armed guards looking and feeling alert. The foremost one stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “Halt! My lord, this is a restricted area. You’ll have to leave immediately.”
“I suggest you back off before someone gets hurt,” Aristheron said smoothly.
The soldier frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Murlesson inhaled deeply and raised his right hand from behind Aristheron’s shoulder. “You will let us pass.” He fumbled for the man’s mind, for all four of their minds. So much more difficult than simply influencing them to ignore him.
“Huh- wha-” Murlesson gritted his teeth and twisted harder. “…I… will… let you pass.” One of the guards stepped to the force-field controls and deactivated them. Oh, this was power. He hadn’t done this on this scale before, but it was not lack of strength that was holding him back, it was only inexperience.
“Well done,” Aristheron said approvingly, quietly, as they stepped through.
“Thanks,” Murlesson mumbled, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a sleeve. The guards behind reactivated the force-field and took no further notice of them. “How many more are there likely to be?”
“Not too many, I imagine. Perhaps once or twice more. We’ll take the bridge crew completely by surprise.” If Murlesson could pull it off again. It had been more of a strain than he’d anticipated.
There was another set of guards at an airlock ahead of them, and likely to be another set inside the airlock. Now he had the hang of it, he could live up to his boast earlier. Probably. They were even more alert than the first ones, but he was already reaching out to their minds, already putting suggestions into them, that the people walking up to the doors had every right to be there. A Sith, a Twi’lek, a Zabrak, a droid… and a Dashade, a monster none of them would have seen before. No, their senses struggled against him, their gazes suspicious upon all of them – but Aristheron walked up to the doors as if they weren’t even there, and they did not draw their weapons. And the ones on the other side of the door… he could feel their minds, but without being able to see them, he was less confident about controlling them. He’d have to be fast when the doors opened.
“I hope this isn’t the plan for dealing with the Republic ship,” Murlesson said under his breath to Aristheron.
“Of course not,” Aristheron replied in kind. “We will strike the Republic hard; anyone who draws a weapon on us in there must be cut down.”
“Oh, good,” Murlesson said. The door slid open and he grabbed for the minds ahead of him. The guards, startled, were raising weapons- he had to stop, grit his teeth, shut his eyes, clench his hands, and focus… One, two, three, they lowered their weapons… He had to keep control of the four behind… The fourth was slipping, his weapon still raised. “K-Khem,” Murlesson ground out in a strangled voice. “Knock him-” Khem struck the last guard on the head, and he crumpled to the ground. “-Door-”
But that was too much for the others, and they snapped free of his control. Vany whirled to shut the door behind them, and lock it, and he could let go of the ones outside and fully impose his will on the ones in front of him, before they’d even gotten their weapons half-raised. “Go to sleep,” he snarled, and they collapsed like the one Khem had knocked out. He had to lean over, breathing hard, hands on his knees. He was sweating. This wasn’t anything like what he’d had to do before.
Aristheron hadn’t even had to unsheathe his lightsaber. “I’ll take it from here,” the human said, and walked into the bridge.
Everyone looked up at the Sith in his armoured robes, striding arrogantly right up to the captain at the viewport. There were several more guards stationed around the edge of the room, and they raised their guns, but at the first one to fire, Aristheron drew his scarlet saber and blocked the bolt in a blink, then thrust his hand towards the guard. The man was flung backwards against the wall, sliding down to lie still. The bridge crew went completely silent, staring. Vany followed nervously in her master’s wake, a hand on her pistol, uncertain whether she should draw it or not. Aristheron advanced on the captain with lightsaber raised in a guard position. The droid trotted along serenely, and Murlesson and Khem crept in behind.
“What’s going on, sir?” asked an anxious-looking officer into the tense silence.
“Stay calm, ensign. Everyone stay calm,” said a man who must be the captain. “I think I know what this is about. Guards, lower your weapons.”
“No additional threats detected,” said the droid in its annoyingly superior voice. “The bridge is now secure.”
“You are Captain Orzik, are you not?” Aristheron said to the captain, lowering his lightsaber and sheathing it. “I am Aristheron Laskaris, and I am taking control of this vessel under the direction of Grand Moff Kilran.”
“I am Captain Revinal Orzik. For the record, I take full responsibility for my actions.”
“Commendable sentiment, but you still disobeyed a direct order from the Grand Moff,” Aristheron said, icy intent in his voice.
“Yes,” said the captain. “I did not know he would respond this way. Court-martial upon arrival at Dromond Kaas, perhaps, but at least my crew would survive- Perhaps he just hates me. My lord, the Black Talon will be destroyed chasing a warship. I fought in the war before, and I’ll fight again – but I don’t do suicide missions.”
“I have no intention of running a suicide mission,” Aristheron said, still cold. “You will obey me, and I will ensure we all get out alive.”
“I expect you believe that, but I cannot,” said Orzik. “You have seized command of this ship, but the Brentaal Star is something else entirely. I might be able to get us close, but then you’ll have to board it, fight an army of Republic soldiers, and somehow find this general. It’s unacceptable.”
“It’s inevitable,” Aristheron countered. “We have not shed a single drop of Imperial blood in taking this ship. It will be far easier to fight openly against Republic soldiers. You are welcome to your analysis, Captain, but it changes nothing: we’re going after that ship.”
“I see.” Orzik bowed his head. “Thank you for making that clear. It seems I have very little choice in the matter. You have my crew – I’ll cooperate, for now.”
“Have faith, Captain,” Aristheron said. “Droid?”
The droid transmitted orders to the bridge crew, and the silence began to buzz with activity. Murlesson didn’t know what to make of it, and kept looking around in a very twitchy way. He didn’t sense any threats, no hostile intent left in the crew, though there was plenty of resentment and fear to go around, with a rising undercurrent of resigned determination. Vany saw him and beckoned him up to the front to stand with Aristheron. He straightened – now was not the time to be unnoticed, now was the time to pretend he was one of those feared Sith Lords, to back up Aristheron’s authority – and walked as confidently as he could to join them. Captain Orzik greeted him with a nod, and he nodded back, but did not speak. He let the bustle pass him by, felt the ship lurch into hyperspace, watched the swirling lights in fascination.
“Ah, Murlesson,” Aristheron greeted him. “Have you any ideas for our assault on the main ship?” He asked in a low tone, conversationally, so that if Murlesson did not have any ideas, he wouldn’t be embarrassed.
Murlesson thought for a moment. He certainly did have ideas. “I am sorely lacking in information, but I gather that we are outnumbered and outgunned, yes?”
“Yes indeed.”
“I cannot recall any exact parallels, but in the Battle of Hextor V, Naga Sadow used his inferior fleet to draw the fire of the ground fortress while he and small hand-picked team infiltrated quietly from the rear. We might do something similar, if this transport is equipped with shuttles.”
“It is. I approve of your plan.” Aristheron turned to Captain Orzik. “Captain, after we emerge from hyperspace, I will require you to make a distraction, pacing them at range, while a shuttle delivers my companions and me to the Brentaal Star. Have you any shuttle pilots good enough for such a drop?”
“I will give you my best pilot, but I do not know if he can do it,” the captain said frankly.
“Perhaps it would be best that I do it myself, then,” Aristheron said. “Murlesson, take Vany and your companion and await me in the shuttle bay. Here is my commlink frequency – you have a commlink, do you not? Contact me when you arrive.”
“Yes,” Murlesson said, and strode off quickly. “Vany, where am I going?” he hissed as they got closer to the bridge entrance. He hadn’t had time or opportunity to look up a map of the ship, and he’d never been on a ship like this.
“I gotchu,” she said back, smiling, taking the lead.
They were in the elevator down to the shuttle bay when the Black Talon exited hyperspace, and he staggered a little as the inertial forces shifted around him. The last time he’d been in hyperspace, he’d been sitting for entry and exit. It seemed a lot safer. Vany gave him a sympathetic look, then led them on as the door opened.
Beyond was a small hangar with three small shuttles docked side-by-side in it, and beyond, a magcon shield showcasing a black starfield. Shortly after they entered, red lasers became visible, shooting past the hangar entrance, and then the Black Talon turned and they could see the ship firing on them. Before them lay a ship of strange design, so distant it was difficult to see, but the turbolaser fire was still coming worryingly close to them.
There wasn’t anything he could do about that, so he pulled his little-used commlink from his pocket and turned it to the frequency Aristheron had given him. “Aristheron. We are here.”
“I read you,” Aristheron said. “I will join you momentarily. Please warm up shuttle number two.”
“Shuttle number two,” Murlesson said to Vany, and she nodded, leading the way. Apparently the shuttle technicians had been told to expect them, and one of them assisted Vany in turning the shuttle on. Murlesson hovered grimly in the passenger area before sitting and strapping himself in. He was useless here. Khem was already strapped in, inspecting his talons.
Aristheron was a little longer than expected, before jogging up the shuttle ramp. “My apologies – a Jedi Master called to ask us nicely to leave. An unusual tactic, I must say… Ineffective, but I appreciated it.”
“I suppose we’re not leaving, huh?” Vany asked.
“Of course not. We have a mission to complete.” Aristheron settled into the pilot’s seat, not even strapping in, and accelerated hard. Murlesson flinched and clung to the passenger restraints.
“This shouldn’t be working,” Vany muttered to herself. “Seriously, won’t they notice us on sensors?”
“The Republic won’t fear a boarding party of our size,” Aristheron said to her, weaving the ship around more turbolaser blasts. “They’ll devote far less firepower to shooting us down, choosing instead to arrange a reception for us. Just follow my lead when we arrive, Vany.”
“Yes, master!” She seemed awfully chipper for being led into such grave danger.
The Republic ship was looming large before them now, the white rectangle of a magcon shield steadily growing in the forward viewport. The shuttle jerked and shuddered under a particularly close miss, and Murlesson flinched once again in his crash harness.
Aristheron didn’t so much land the shuttle as let it skid to a stop in the middle of the Brentaal Star’s hangar, leaving the controls before they were even down and dashing for the exit. “With me!” His lightsaber flashed out, and as the boarding ramp dropped and the steam of the settling shuttle poured around it, blaster bolts began to strike around him. Vany dropped into a crouch, briefly covering her head before pulling out her little blaster pistol and firing back. Murlesson finally fought free of the crash harness and followed as Aristheron began to advance down the ramp, lightsaber whirling as he deflected most of the bolts.
Murlesson had no idea how to deflect bolts, and he wasn’t going to start this second. With Khem at his heels, he darted forward, stance crouched low, lightsaber unlit but in his hand. He had better ways to take care of multiple enemies at once. Hatred boiled in his gut, and he let it flow down his left arm and through his clawing fingertips.
Lightning burst from his fingers, lancing over one, two, four of the Republic soldiers. They barely had time to scream before they dropped to the floor. One of them was down already from one of Aristheron’s deflected bolts, and now there were only three left. Aristheron lunged forward, Khem charged, and in only a few more seconds there were no more Republic soldiers.
Aristheron nodded to them, then raised his commlink to his lips. “We have gained a foothold, Captain. Continue to pace the Brentaal Star.”
“Understood, my lord.”
Vany hurried down the ramp to catch up to them as Aristheron picked a direction and jogged off. “Did you just make lightning appear out of nowhere?” she asked Murlesson.
He shrugged as he jogged. “It’s a trick I can do. It’s hardly unique among Sith.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. It’s… kinda cool.” As long as she didn’t look at the smoking bodies, he noticed.
More than one rival acolyte on Korriban had fallen to that manifestation of the Force, once he’d figured out how to use it. All he really cared about was that it was effective. But… “I suppose it is.”
“Quickly,” Aristheron urged them. “They will be sending reinforcements. Once they realize they are boarded by Sith, they may send the general to the escape pods.”
“Here they come!” Vany cried, as a platoon of Republic soldiers clattered around a corner and took up defensive positions.
Fear soared through him, fear and a roar of darkness, fed by and overpowering the fear. The next few minutes passed by in a blur, as they advanced deeper into the ship, slaughtering everything in their path. He was aware of nothing but the struggle for survival, the Force surging through him, guiding him away from the blaster fire, the flamethrowers, the grenade explosions, and granting him deadly speed and power against the ones trying to kill him. He was barely aware of his companions’ actions, though more than once he saw Khem tearing an unfortunate soldier limb from limb, and Aristheron was in the thick of every confrontation, proud and indomitable, nigh-untouchable by the Republic. He had enough wits about him to use each situation to his advantage, letting Aristheron draw the attention of the enemy, then suddenly springing upon them from the flank, either raking them with lightning or slashing at them savagely with his double-bladed saber.
Only when they reached the engine antechamber did he have time or focus to register more of his surroundings, but then there was really only one thing to focus on – the slight figure of a green-skinned Twi’lek wielding a green lightsaber. Fear and determination warred in her eyes, but she stepped forward stubbornly to meet them. “Halt where you are! I am Yadira Ban, Padawan of the Jedi Order. I was sent to protect the general, and you will not pass.”
“Khem, watch for reinforcements,” Murlesson ordered his monster in a low voice.
<But I wanted to eat the little Jedi,> Khem whined. Murlesson shot him a vicious glare, and the Dashade stomped away sullenly. Khem had fought plenty of Jedi in his past, he was sure. He needed the experience more than Khem needed to indulge himself.
“Surrender the general, and I will allow you and the Brentaal Star to go,” Aristheron said. “Vany, go with the Dashade.” Vany made an unhappy face but did as she was told.
The Jedi glared at them with righteous anger. “I cannot accept that. A Jedi does not surrender the innocent into the hands of evil. But I intend to drive you back, meter by meter, if need be. Just as the Republic pushed the Sith Empire into the dark of the galaxy!” She brandished her lightsaber at them defiantly, and then attacked.
Murlesson’s gaze flicked past her momentarily to the engine room door. Aristheron had said at some point there would be escape pods back there; undoubtedly this general was past her. She wouldn’t sacrifice her life for a mere distraction if their target were on the other end of the ship. As Aristheron slid forward to engage her head-on, Murlesson lunged to the side. The Padawan was quite short; she didn’t have reach on either him or Aristheron. He wondered how it was that she wasn’t intimidated by them, but noticed she was muttering some mantra repeatedly under her breath.
So he let himself fall into the flow of the Force. He wouldn’t be able to hide himself from someone so strong in the Force herself, but he could confuse her, distract her, even strike her with lightning if she let her guard down. He didn’t even think of engaging her with his lightsaber. It was not entirely due to the Force that he’d avoided being shot so far, and he didn’t like pushing his luck in this situation. She was better than Murlesson was, by a long shot, but not nearly as good as Aristheron. It was a good thing he wasn’t alone.
Lightsabers clashed with a spray of sparks, and the Jedi grunted in exertion, before spinning away to counter his attack. He gave her a curious look over her saber. “Hold on,” he said. “You’re the first Jedi I’ve met. Are they all this hopelessly naive?”
“I’m afraid most are,” Aristheron said, switching places with him seamlessly, as if they’d been fighting together for months, not a half-hour.
“Excuse you,” said the Padawan, Force-pushing them until they staggered. “Just because I do what is right doesn’t mean I’m naive!”
“Oh?” Murlesson smirked, countering her push with lightning. “Just how innocent is the person you’re protecting?”
She frowned in confusion, catching the lightning on her blade. “Whoever he is, whatever his past, he is under Jedi protection now.” She flicked her saber, and the lightning arced back towards him.
“That didn’t answer my question, but it doesn’t really matter, I suppose,” Murlesson said, ducking his own lightning. “I don’t actually care if you’re right or wrong. I just want to get this over with.”
“You will not win,” the girl said, her lightsaber whirling as she came at them again.
“I’m sorry,” Aristheron said politely. “You cannot stop us or scare us.”
The girl slashed at Aristheron repeatedly, trying to break past his guard. “I don’t need to scare you, only defeat you. And that, I can do.” And though Aristheron was staying calm, he did look to be a little hard-pressed.
“Foolish,” Murlesson said, attacking her from the other side. “Jedi are not invincible simply because they’re Jedi.”
She flung her arms out, knocking them both back again; this blast was so violent he fell on his back. “I don’t believe that. Don’t stereotype!” She leaped at him while he was sprawled on the ground, lightsaber raised for a killing blow.
Time slowed, and he flexed his body, kicking upwards. Her swing went wide, and he rolled, and she landed beyond him with a thud, spinning to face him and drive him back. He braced himself; he couldn’t weather the same storm that Aristheron had and backed away. “Hypocrite.”
“I’m not a-!” She visibly collected herself, muttering her mantra some more, and her strokes became fiercer, heavier, faster. He shoved her back with the Force before she could get a hit in on him; she wasn’t the only one who could push people around. He was feeling a little desperate, she recovered very quickly and doing it again would provide even less result…
Until Aristheron intercepted her newest attack, catching her off-balance, sending her back again. As she flailed to recover, the Sith warrior struck her guard away and stabbed her through the chest.
As Aristheron withdrew his lightsaber, the Jedi made a small choking cry, clutching the fatal wound. Her face frozen in agony, she toppled to the floor, her lightsaber rolling a little away from her outstretched hand.
Aristheron switched off his own lightsaber and bowed politely to her corpse before turning to Murlesson. “Come, we must secure the general. He could have already attempted to escape.”
“We’ll get him back if he has,” Murlesson said. He wondered if he still had the energy to pull an escape pod around with the Force. Supposedly, the only limit on wielding the Force was entirely mental, he should be able to do it – any Sith ought to be able to do it. And yet he wished for a rest…
But the general hadn’t gone anywhere, bleeding from an injury to his own abdomen. Murlesson watched for reinforcements as Aristheron took the man into custody, and when the injured prisoner couldn’t move fast enough back to the shuttle bay for him, picked him up with the Force and floated him along as if on repulsors. It allowed them to move at a brisk jog.
The Republic intercepted them anyway. “Keep going!” Aristheron shouted, taking up a guarding stance. “He must be returned to the Black Talon at all cost!”
“Understood,” Murlesson replied crisply, then remembered something. “But you’re the only one who can fly the shuttle. You’d damn well better not die!”
“Don’t underestimate me!” Aristheron replied, with a tight chuckle as Murlesson and the companions hurried off. Laser bolts flashed around them, but Aristheron blocked the important ones, and then they were around the corner.
Yet more Republic popped out of a side corridor. “Get them, Khem!” Murlesson ordered, and Khem growled as he lunged at them. They screamed and tried to run, shooting wildly at Khem.
“Will he be all right?” Vany asked, as they ran faster.
“Aristheron will bring him back, I’m sure,” Murlesson said. “Anyway, that’s Khem’s problem, not mine.”
“That’s a little cold,” she said, frowning at him.
“I won’t insult either him or me by coddling him,” he answered. “His last master was far harsher.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“You’re standing up for a Dashade assassin?”
“I’m standing up for the decency of sentient life!”
“You’re absolutely bizarre- more enemies!” He made rapid calculations. He could get the general back to the shuttle far faster, but Vany wouldn’t be able to hold them off. “Take him and go!”
“You’re sure-”
“I said go!” Murlesson set the general down on his feet and turned back to the Republic soldiers. He couldn’t deflect half a dozen blaster bolts, certainly not at once. Good thing he didn’t need to. A blurring of their senses, a short sprint to close the distance as their shots missed around him, letting the fear fuel his feet, his senses. A blast of lightning to take out as many as he could, and then to finish them off with the lightsaber.
It should have worked, but there was more blaster fire, coming from behind him now – he was surrounded!
“Hold there!” Aristheron shouted, Khem at his heels, charging into the newcomers. “You’re clear!”
“Thank you,” Murlesson said, and they rejoined Vany together, jumping into the shuttle and rocketing away from the Republic ship.
Back in the Black Talon’s lounge, he curled up in a corner, staring out into hyperspace, trying to sort through everything that had happened. He stiffened and glanced up when he saw a bearded reflection approaching in the viewport.
“You are better than I expected,” Aristheron said. “I will have to keep an eye on you.”
Murlesson allowed himself the barest of smirks, still giddy after having survived everything. “So I managed to avoid being dead weight as well as just dead.”
“Yes. But you have no idea how to wield that blade. Did no one at the Academy teach you anything?”
“No. I’ll figure it out.” They’d showed him how to use the lightning, and how to fight with a single-bladed weapon, but not the double-bladed one. Besides, he had so many other tools at his disposal. He could cloak himself in the Force and stab his targets in the back. He could claw tooth and nail and vibroblade, wield telekinesis and lightning and turn a victim’s own mind and body against them. He could probably explode someone’s chest or head if he thought about it hard enough. He had enough to survive without begging for help from – showing weakness to – the first person he worked with as an equal.
Aristheron sighed and shook his head. Murlesson could tell he was wondering how he’d graduated without this vital Sithy skill. “You’re hopeless. It’s only a testament to your skill in the Force that you managed not to kill yourself on this mission. Basically, you’re still using it like a single-bladed lightsaber. If you will, I can show you some basics so that you don’t die on me immediately next time.”
Murlesson stared. He hadn’t expected such a blunt and open offer. “You would show a slave these things?”
Aristheron frowned at him in slight incomprehension, a crease appearing between his dark brows. “Why does that consume you so much? I truly don’t care what you were or where you came from. What matters is that you are Sith, and you should act as such.”
The human didn’t understand what slavery meant, and he still had an unconscious arrogance that suggested he would always consider himself superior to Murlesson for whatever reason, birth or species or whatever, but in a way he was right – that didn’t matter right now. Murlesson slowly unhooked the lightsaber and handed it over. Aristheron was honourable. He’d do as he said.
Aristheron himself was not extraordinarily skilled or trained in the tricks of a double-bladed lightsaber, preferring a single blade as he did, but he wove it through loops and whirls that made him into an unapproachable maelstrom of death. Murlesson watched in attentive fascination, trying to formulate how to mimic what he was seeing, where to start his progression to mastery.
And it seemed that he didn’t even know where to start, as the first thing Aristheron began to show him wasn’t how to spin the lightsaber like that, but how to place his feet. Which was a bit annoying, he knew the value of good balance, he’d been fighting since he was… eleven-ish, but ego couldn’t get in the way of additional knowledge. Especially with this rare chance to learn with someone who wasn’t blatantly out to kill him.
“Tell me about Jedi,” he said to Aristheron in the middle of the coaching. “I only heard whispers of them when I was a child. I had no actual knowledge of them before I met the one today.”
Aristheron frowned at his ignorance, but obliged. “Some of them are fierce warriors, but too many of them seem inclined to talk their opponents to death. Some of them even show the capability of wielding real power, military power, political power. However, they seem to hold it taboo to actually apply their power, and so they are largely ineffective as the ‘peace-keepers’ they claim to be. There is one, known only as The Rurouni, who could be a general in their military, and chooses to be a vagabond instead. A waste. Now do the steps again.”
“So they are hardly the supernatural heroes the other slaves held them as,” Murlesson said, doing the steps again. And again. And again, for good measure.
“Yes, and no. They are bound by rigid tradition and code, and many of them, no matter their strength in the Force, spend their time shut away from the world. How does that make anyone a hero?”
<This is nonsense,> Khem Val rumbled. <Jedi are not heroes. Jedi are weak, mewling things that use the Light Side of the Force – so my master said.>
“And that makes them inferior?” Murlesson asked. He had a vague idea of the Light and Dark sides of the Force, and that most Sith were vehemently opposed to the concept of the Light Side, that they spoke of it with scorn. That Aristheron had not mentioned it before now was strange, but then again he did seem more open-minded than most of the other Sith in the Academy.
“I disagree,” Aristheron said, adding a few more steps onto the sequence they were practicing. “It is not the side of the Force that they use, but the manner in which they use it. That girl – she stood her ground against overwhelming adversaries, and now she is dead and her mission failed, no matter how strong she was. If she were Sith, even a Light-Sided Sith, do you not think she would have found another way?”
“Hm,” Murlesson said, not certain what his own opinion was. “I don’t know any Light-Sided Sith, so I can’t answer that.”
“You have great strength in the Dark, that much is clear,” Aristheron said. “Now only practice what I’m showing you, and you’ll be able to ask a Jedi yourself, someday, and live to tell the tale.”
By the end of the day, between the battle and the coaching session, he learned more about fighting than he’d ever been taught in the entire month at the Academy. Aristheron was a tough teacher, demanding, relentless, but surprisingly patient. Vany watched everything with her chin in her hands, smiling in wonderment. Khem ignored them all.