11
Vek rolled for cover. Again. As a padawan, he hadn't been in enough live firefights to get good, especially at deflecting the blaster bolts of organic sentients. That didn't stop him from feeling guilty about it.
The big hero I am, he thought. A few Republic soldiers worked their way toward his own cover. They occasionally poked their heads up, fired a few rounds, and ran forward while comrades kept them covered. Their training was good, long and strenuous.
An isolated enemy soldier blasted away in front of Vek. Perhaps he didn't know the Jedi was sheltered so close by. Vandar, Vizif and the Twi'lek were taking a more direct route to the enemy enclave. Vizif had urged him to go at the Alpha drop point with the soldiers, telling him it would be 'mutually beneficial'. Britmar Seclu had jumped off at the same time. She blasted away at anything in front of her.
For the third time, Vek ignited his lightsaber, drew in the Force as best he could. The Unifying Force spoke more to him these days, unless he was healing, then the Living Force guided his thoughts better.
A few blaster bolts winged their way toward him. One singed him on its way past. The others, the more important ones, as they would have skewered more than his robes, bounced harmlessly away. The enemy soldier not far in front squeezed off rounds, again and again. He seemed transfixed on Vek.
That gave the Republic soldiers a chance to get him in a crossfire. He sprawled and groaned as he fell. Republic soldiers moved up. There weren't many more places to shelter before they had taken the grounds to the west of the enclave.
Most of the soldiers were either down or gone inside. Vek relaxed a bit, remained standing. Britmar stood, too. The Osprey was parked on a landing pad not far to the left, or north of the enclave.
The door to the sod covered hideout had been left standing open. Vek could sense Vandar and the other Jedi to the east, still battling their way forward. The Force swirled, tugged at the collar of his robe, pulled him the direction of the open door.
"Wait, Miss Seclu," he said as Britmar holstered her weapon and began walking casually toward the landing pad.
"Wait like hell, sweet thing," she said, glaring at him. "Time to get my ship back and get off this rock. You been a great help."
Vek could almost see the muzzle of the blaster rifle stick out through the shadowed doorway. He couldn't, of course, but the Force made it apparent that it was there. I'm gonna regret this, he thought as he rushed toward the scoundrel. Her eyes bulged and she reached for her blaster again, but he was too quick. He tackled her just as the blaster bolt scorched the air she'd occupied only a split second before. Republic soldiers surged forward, blaster rifles barking to take out the enemy at the door.
Britmar's intense gaze swung from the enclave door up to Vek. Her lower lip trembled for a second before she got it under control. At that moment, her charming smirk turned up one corner of her mouth.
"Thanks, sweet thing," she said and leaned up to peck him on the cheek.
Before he could move, she'd slithered out from beneath him, bounded to her feet. Not far away, the last enemy soldier grunted again. He writhed on the grass, clutching at his chest. The scoundrel made to draw her blaster.
"No," Vek said and hurried toward the soldier. The Living Force crackled at his fingertips as he examined the wounded soldier. "Peace," he said, using the Force to burrow past the enemy's defenses, sending the message as a calming, pain killing wave.
"Why are you wasting your time?" Britmar asked.
Inside, Vek frowned. The blaster bolts had burned up enough tissue near the heart to make healing difficult. At best, the man would have severe health problems for the remainder of his pain addled life.
Do I save him, or let him go? Sometimes, there were no easy answers in life. Oh, he could have reached out to his master, hung the decision on her. If he'd been a young padawan, he probably would have. Though he was new to the position and young in the standards of this new galaxy, he'd lived a full life where he came from. He wasn't about to pawn off a decision he wasn't willing to make himself.
He eased the soldier's agony as best he could, watching as his soul slipped from the damaged body. Unencumbered by battle armor and the philosophies he'd lived in life, his soul glittered and gleamed for the moment Vek could see it, through the Force. The soldier clutched Vek's hand, then his grip gave way and his hand dropped to the earth, even as his soul escaped upward.
When Vek stood, he sighed. It wasn't easy watching up close as someone died, even an enemy. That was why soldiers were sculpted into professionals.
Britmar gaped, then shuddered. Quickly, she bit down on her feelings, not allowing anyone a glimpse inside. She didn't immediately try to make a dash to her ship, either. "I could use someone by my side to help me get to the Osprey," she said, a glimmer in her eye.
"Then have patience, please," Vek said. "I need to ask my master about it." Something familiar and deadly drew his senses toward the landing pad. He didn't want to tell her, of course.
"Are you gonna need permission from your master for everything I have in mind for you?" Britmar stared, lopsided at him, amused grin on her face. Her auburn hair flowed from her shoulders in the warm breeze.
Thankfully, Vek didn't need to answer that question. Vandar, Vizif and the Twi'lek master still unnamed to Vek arrived from the east.
"Glad to see you're still in one piece, Padawan," Vizif said happily. She looked at the enemy soldier at his feet, then back up at him. He sent her a short message through their bond about what had just transpired and what he sensed near the landing pad.
"Master Vandar," Vizif said. "Do you mind if my padawan and I escort Miss Seclu to her ship?"
"That would be for the best, I think," Vandar said, then he turned his head deliberately to the enclave door. "I suspect Master Su'jaki and I will be able to handle what we find in there." He and the other Jedi exchanged glances, nodded at the same time. They used a push from the Force to dash inside. Their sabers hummed.
"Charmed to have two Jedi protectors watching over me," Britmar said as they hurried toward the landing pad. Her right hand rested on her blaster, all the same. Perhaps she didn't trust herself. It would be impossible to trust others that way.
Of course, once she saw the Osprey, she whooped with glee and took off like a shot toward it. She pounded up the ramp, then her scream pierced the air. Then, silence.
"Âtsadush," Vizif said. Blue sparkled in the humid air. A moment later, yellow mingled and hummed along with it.
With a burst from the Force, both Jedi hurried up the ramp.
A crimson slash came out of nowhere. Vizif was much quicker than Vek; she blocked the hidden strike. Âtsadush – perhaps hidden using a Force technique? – appeared before them, snarling. He knocked Vizif's blade back, struck again, knocking Vizif back with the ferociousness of his attack. Next time he slashed, Vek's yellow met the red.
Taller and stronger through the chest, Vek didn't allow the apprentice to do the same to him. However, the skinny Sith didn't seem interested in repeating old mistakes. Rather than try to overpower Vek, he used his superior speed. Both Jedi locked blades with him, but he spun and used the cramped corridor to leap over them.
Vizif spun as well, turning his blade away from the base of Vek's spine. It would have been a nasty blow, had it connected.
At the edge of the Force, Vek felt Britmar's life draining away. She was crumpled to the side of the entrance ramp, bleeding profusely. Vek knew he couldn't heal her from a distance, but he tried to ease her pain, at least.
Unfortunately, in so doing, he left himself vulnerable. Âtsadush had speed and cunning on his side. He kicked at the back of Vek's right leg, then his left shoulder, spinning him around. The slash from his saber was partially deflected by Vizif, but it still tore into the first few layers of skin and damaged nerves.
Vek groaned as he hit the deck of the Osprey. His saber clattered away. Âtsadush tried to capitalize on his advantage, but Vizif contested him. In the tight atmosphere, Vek felt passion stir within his master. Though she clamped down on it quickly, she had genuine sisterly and matronly feelings toward him. Guilt replaced the passion as she battled the Sith; guilt that she'd allowed herself to feel something again.
Despite Âtsadush's best efforts, Vizif backed him away from the two wounded humans. They fought around a corner, then disappeared from sight.
Vek crawled toward Britmar. Agony tugged at his back with every exertion. Getting sliced by a lightsaber was no fun. When he reached the scoundrel, she was nearly gone. Unlike the enemy soldier, however, she could still be saved. Where he'd had too much extensive damage, hers was a bit more superficial. Blood loss was what nearly drained her life. That, for Vek, was an easy fix.
With his eyes closed, he could get a picture of the microscopic, through the Force. Blood was everywhere it wasn't supposed to be. Guiding it where it belonged, he urged the capillaries and sinews to replicate good cells, discarding the damaged ones. Clots formed, tissues began the mending process and he temporarily numbed the pain receptors in her brain.
Her head turned and she moaned, down deep in her belly. Emerald orbs, glistened with moisture, stared up blankly, then focused on him. Even that scoundrel's smirk looked more human on her for a moment, before another wave of pain contorted it.
"You just wanted to get your hands on me; admit it," she said in a groan.
The belly wound had left her vest and undershirt torn and scorched. His fingers lightly caressed the undamaged flesh near her bellybutton. "I'm just an old softie," he said.
She blinked, then relaxed. "I sure hope not," she whispered, trying to conserve her strength.
His chuckle cut off into a spasm of pain. "Don't make me laugh now," he said and tried to stand. The act wasn't complete, as it felt like the skin of his back was tearing.
"You're hurt, too," Britmar said, her voice distant, weak. That was her body healing itself. She barely had the strength to point at his back before her hand dropped limply to the deck.
"That's what I get for helping," Vek said. He was about to stop and try to get his hands around his back to heal himself, when he heard the humming of sabers. He called his blade to his hand, but nothing happened. Exhaustion made him feel heavy. His heart thudded in his chest.
Once again, he slipped off his boots, bent to scoop up his saber. He didn't finish that, either, as new sensations of agony tore through him. Vizif, his master, was in pain. He felt the scorch of a saber to Vizif's thigh like it was his own wound.
Not wasting anymore time, with the pain from his back disappearing in a rush of adrenaline, he shot forward, silently in socked feet. Through their bond, he homed right in on Vizif and Âtsadush.
The Sith moved slower, more arrogantly. His strikes were deliberate, designed to wear Vizif out, rather than inflict punishment. Victory seemed inevitable to him and it showed in his actions.
Of course, when Vek rammed his shoulder into the Sith's spine, all that changed. Vizif brought her blade up and skewered the raving Sith. Breath flew from his lungs in a feral roar and he collapsed, perhaps dead before his head hit the deck.
Panting, Vek looked at his master. Hair matted to her skull with sweat and a few scrapes and bruises and tears in her robes made her look like she'd just been in a fight. Which, of course, she had.
The cut to her thigh was bad. It had nicked the artery. "Sorry, Master," he said as he touched her upper leg.
"Don't apologize for helping, Padawan," Vizif said, breathing heavily herself after the fight of her life.
His fingers pressed against the flesh, encouraging the wound to begin closing. Through the Force, he sterilized it and started clots. "You'll need a medic to give you some stitches, soon," he said.
"Looks like you could use some healing, yourself," Vizif said.
"The pain's gone. Mostly."
"Come on; we should see if Vandar needs us," his master said. "You need your saber again, too."
"I know right where it is," Vek said.
When he scooped it up, Britmar was just getting to her feet. "You really should rest more," Vek said.
"I will," she promised. "But first..." Before the Jedi could get past her, she grabbed first Vizif, planted a wet kiss on his master's lips, then quickly did the same to him. "Thank you," she said quietly, her gaze falling to the durasteel deck. "I owe you. Both."
"Think nothing of it, Miss Seclu," Vizif said and shoved her padawan forward. Outside, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "That was unpleasant."
In the enclave, Vek knelt over several bodies. They'd been killed by lightsabers. While the outside had reminded him of Dantooine's Jedi enclave, the inside was different. Twists and turns led them to a training room. Metallic objects lined one wall. "Sith holocrons," Vizif said, sounding like a bad taste was in her mouth.
"Maybe." Vek was drawn to one. "I think this one is Jedi, Master," he said.
Despite herself, Vizif was also examining them. "This one appears to predate the Sith. Not the species, mind, but the philosophy."
"I understand, Master." Some were indeed Sith in origin, but more than half weren't. In the center of the wall, a shelf lay empty. Dust had settled around a holocron that was now missing. "I wonder if that was the one Craroc received in the mail," Vek said.
Vizif placed her hand in the space where the holocron had been. Quickly, she jerked it away, shook it as though it had been shocked. "I think maybe you're right," she said.
They continued to search the enclave. At last, they came upon Masters Vandar and Su'Jaki, standing over a bald, pale, female corpse dressed in red.
"That was Kavia, all right," Vek said, confirming through the Force what his eyes had already told him: she was definitely dead. The Sith didn't have a lightsaber in her hand and none was nearby.
"She nearly killed me with her hands," Master Su'Jaki said, shaking his head slowly. "I believe it was Teräs Käsi, though I've never seen the variant before. It was almost as if the Dark Side reinforced her actions through her movements."
Vandar had been quietly staring at Kavia's body. A shudder passed through him as he hung his saber hilt on his belt. "An ancient form, it was," he said, startled into the backward speak Vek knew his species used normally.
"Any sign of Craroc?" Vizif asked, perhaps trying to distract the masters from their malaise.
"No," Vandar said. He looked up from Kavia, returning to himself. "This enclave was only just forming; we arrived in good time."
Vizif told them about the holocrons. The masters nodded to themselves.
"Great work, Padawan," Vizif said as a Republic medic sewed stitches into her thigh.
Another medic patched up the flesh wound in his back. "You, too, Master," he said. "I suppose now we'll go back to Dantooine and be bored."
"Bored?"
"Now that you've shown me the high life, you think I'll be satisfied with trees, plains and meditation again?" Vek pondered his own words as he allowed them to sink into Vizif's head. Then, with brow raised, he added, "Yes, yes I will be satisfied."
Vizif chuckled, then winced as her movements threw off the medic and he jabbed her with the needle.