Vitus stares into the now lifeless eyes of Aelia. Her final expression of fear, confusion…or pity remains upon her bloodied face. The dark saber, still rammed through Aelia's heart, quietly hums as it continues to cauterize the dead woman's flesh. She meant to kill Quintus, Vitus tells himself fighting back the guilt. He must keep his promise - his son will survive this nightmare.
Cough! Cough! Vitus wipes the blood from his mouth as he stands up and regains himself to assess the situation. The transport is grounded, on fire, and being circled from above. Nothing is on as the ship's power supply is no longer functioning. He can expect the ship's interior to be pitch black.
Through the heavily cracked portside cockpit windows, Vitus spies on a Sith troop transport and a lone starfighter landing some fifty meters away. There isn't much time. Vitus rushes for the transport's passenger bay holding the dark saber up as a light. Though black in color, the blade releases a dim white glow – good enough to light the cramped hallways of the transport. Metal and hull fragments litter the floor as small fires burn what little flammable material there is in this portion of the ship.
Cough! Cough! Blood drips from the corners of Vitus' mouth. Breathing is becoming more and more difficult as every breath draws more of the warm red liquid into his one healthy lung…but he must press on.
Vitus soon reaches the passenger bay to a horrid sight. As the transport crashed into the ground, several of the already loose plasteel panels jarred free slicing several of the passengers. Unable to move during the crash or knocked unconscious from the shear amount of pain, these unfortunate few bled out. Four more, who were not restrained in their seats were at the crash's mercy as they were flung around the cabin like a ragdoll breaking bones or killing them altogether. But to Vitus, the only one that mattered is Quintus, and to his great relief, the boy remained alive in his seat.
Cough! Cough! The boy, unconscious, still breathes. He did suffer a deep cut across his left cheek but fortunately that was the extent of his damage. Vitus hurriedly cuts the restraints knowing that the Sith would be upon the ship at any moment.
"Help us…" A weak voice calls to Vitus from the shadows. "Please –"
Vitus, his son cradled in his arms, turns to see a crippled father and son, not unlike he and Quintus, reaching out for help from their seats.
"Journeyman…please help…my son…" Those were the man's last words as he slumps over.
Muffled voices can be heard from outside the ship as the Sith press their advance closer. To Vitus, there is no possibility of saving all of them. No, instead he would enact what mercy he could - the mercy Aelia meant to offer.
Darth Abadon's nostrils flare with rage as he looks on at the crashed transport. The unimpressive ship lay in a heap, it's crushed and shattered hull spewed about the ground. Smoke billows in a black mass from the flaming engines. The mile long gorge or earth and rock carved during the crash was enough to stop the ship short of a cliff in which the drop surely would have killed the survivors.
His fifty Sith troopers spread out across the damaged plain, await their lord's command. Their armor, black and accented in blood red, reflects the glimmer of the sinking sun on the horizon. Long shadows cast across the ground flicker with the flames of the massive fire in a ghostly dance.
"Boarding team, capture the survivors!" Abadon's command rings in the lifeless air as ten of his most loyal men approach the burning junk pile of a ship.
Darth Abadon's eyes remain glued to the hull of the broken ship. He is amazed that it is still in one piece for it appears to have been primitively built, unable to survive a crash let alone fly. Fire escapes from a giant crack where the ship nearly bent in half. The cockpit, mostly intact, is driven into the ground with only the top windows visible above the dirt and refuse.
"Lord Abadon!" A voice calls from the advance party. "Something's cutting its way out!"
Abadon's eyes search the hull in a panic, and then he sees what the troopers spotted. From the rear of the ship, where the exit ramp would have been, a light saber blade, black in color and outlined in white, carving out a hole. "These people are Jedi?" Lord Abadon, stunned, looks on as the blade works its way in a circular pattern.
"Orders, sir!?" A trooper calls out, but Abadon is unable to hear him above his own amazement.
The section of hull drops to the ground with a resounding thud, and out of it appears a man carrying a small child. The man freezes as he sees the small army of Sith looking straight back at him with weapons at the ready. Abadon's heart begins to pound. His breathing increases. His temperature rises. For a moment he had forgotten himself, but now, almost ashamed – no, not shame…hatred – for his hesitation, he no longer cares about prisoners.
"Kill them!" Abadon screams. His Sith troopers hesitate for a moment at the sudden change in orders giving the man a chance to race for the cliff. The Sith open up their blaster fire in a volley of deafening noise. Blaster rounds bounce around the escapees narrowly missing by inches as if fate would not let Abadon win. "No, not fate…my men are traitors to my own cause. I must do it myself." Abadon watches as the man leaps over the edge disappearing into the darkness below.
Abadon, furious, abandons his men and enters his starfighter to pursue the man and child.
Gravel, dirt, and ash kick up into the air as Vitus slides down the massive cliff holding tightly to his son shielding the boy from the flying debris. The bumps in the earth dig into his sensitive left side shifting the broken ribs with every rough hit. His only means to fight through the pain is to look to the sky at the beautiful sunset…the last sunset of his home. The two suns slowly sink below the horizon of the mountains painting the sky in majestic colors of purple, red, and orange. Mountain peaks cast long shadows into the dark valley below as the remnants of a burnt forest lay to rot away.
Vitus hits the bottom of the valley with a thud, rolling his body to deflect as much of the impact as possible. Ash covers the ground like a fresh snowfall. The once proud coniferous forest that dominated the valleys is little more than black and burnt ten foot high stumps. Small fires continue in random pockets of the scorched forest providing little light by which to see with. The man lay there on the ground with his son, looking up into the darkening night sky. The moon that which his home orbits emits a dim, blue glow as if in mourning for the death and destruction of its satellite.
Vitus' energy is nearly expelled. He has been battered, beaten, bruised, pierced, cut, and burned. If Quintus, were not with him, he doubts he would have made it this far. But how much farther can we go?
Vitus reflects on the promise he made to his wife three years ago as she lay in her deathbed to an irreversible disease. Tears trickle from his eyes as hopelessness sets in one last time. I'm sorry…I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise... I'm sorry for all the pain that I've caused…I'm sorry that I couldn't save you…from death. I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill my obligations as a father…to raise our son…to watch him grow into the great man he is destined to be.
Vitus looks to his son. Quintus, gripping his father's bloodied shirt, stares back at his father with the same look his mother gave the man before she passed: a look of unwavering courage. Vitus smiles at his boy before returning his gaze to the stars, "I know you want me to fight on – Cough! Cough! - to remain steadfast…if you give me one last chance…I can – I will…"
In the heavens above, a star twinkles in response followed shortly by the scream of a Sith starfighter flying low above. It flies alone searching for the father and son. The shrieking banshee of a craft flies through the valley in an instant before circling back. Vitus watches on as the Sith craft bee lines right for them. He knows that the guns are about to erupt upon them in a volley of green death forever ending the line of Journeyman Protectors. He hugs his son in one last good-bye saying to Quintus and his wife one last "I love you."
Vitus closes his eyes shut ready to accept the end…but the end never comes. The Sith starfighter's scream continues but is less shrill and more steady. Opening his eyes it is revealed that the craft is slowly landing some one hundred meters from them. Vitus looks to the heavens one last time as the star twinkles again.
Hope and strength return to the man as he cracks a smile. "One last fight…" Carefully sitting his son against a fallen log, Vitus motions the boy to remain hidden. The man then stands with all the strength he can muster. Blood leaks from the corners of his mouth and his freshly reopened wound. The pain at his side is at its worst, but it soon disappears.
Vitus focuses all his will for the fight and draws out his dark saber, the black blade emanating a white glow ready to slay one last enemy.
