Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars
Dragon Wars: The Force of Others
Episode 30: Bloody grip
Fame and fortune, Torvan loved it, his gambles paid off and he profited immensely from the victories of his fighters. The red eyed stranger fought another battle after Markus Grant. This time against the droids of the Jawa Korrenze group, not so much an individual as a group of droids after credits, they passionately cannibalised droids and sent them into the arena. Two Mark 2 assault droids, fitted with glowing orange blades, Sentinel droids with B1 heads and shock sticks and assassin droids fitted with electro staves. The stranger faced them with a one handed saw cleaver and stake driver. He was knocked around for a bit, and Torvan had never seen a fighter roll and parry so much in his life. Maximus though saw someone reading a pattern, searching for the gap. Once the stranger had it, he charged the weapons with electricity and bludgeoned his way through the droids. Soon after that another of Torvan's champions took to the arena.
The Twi'lek man was green skinned, and sported tattoos underneath the little armour he wore. Talon and the other disciples of Krayt watched the man fight with a long sword against Bodach'i gladiators. Reptilian men known for their strength, they easily fell to the Twi'lek man's blade. The 'Blade master' the crowd called him, and he fitted the name. But in his technique, the disciples saw the light sabre forms, flawless and perfect. Yet Krayt only stood for one fighter on that field. The red eyed stranger next fought a Nexu, suffering a savage slash to his chest. But in another great show of his magic, he used the blood to gouge out the creature's eyes before bashing it's head in with an axe.
Torvan's other slaves fought admirably as well, the Twi'lek migrants won against the Geonosian gladiators. The Zabrak brothers easily overpowered a band of Gamorreans, and though the Flesh Raiders lost a few of their numbers, they really entertained the crowd when they literally pulled an Acklay apart. Torvan heard the Blademaster's victory against the Mud Horn 'death by a thousand cuts' and it fit. It had been a brutal fight that lasted till the sun began to set, but when the Mud Horn fell to the floor the crowd screamed louder in appreciation of the entertainment. The last match of the day was another attempt of Kalla's at revenge against Torvan and the red eyed stranger. As if making up for the length for his previous battles, and the Blademaster's last fight, 13 finished the Jungle Rancor in very little time. Burning his boots again, he used burst of flame to manoeuvre himself like a rocket. Then he crashed his Buster Sword through the Rancor's skull.
"Finally, respect and fear, our house is now recognised as a house of champions," Torvan raised his glass, his prized slaves in front of him.
Daylen stood like a loyal servant should, as did the others. But inside they remained who they truly were. Moorint of Kalikori village, Shriv of the Duros. Daylen had yet to learn the name of the leader of the Dathomir Zabrak band, and the Blademaster he remembered from the other day, the scarred man who had lost one of his head tails.
"Continue to perform admirably on the field, and you shall reap the benefits," Torvan said, motioning to the cups on his desk.
"To your house master," Daylen was the first to take his cup and Moorint and Shriv followed.
The look of pride was a false one, a deception that he convinced Shriv and Moorint to follow. And through them he convinced other slaves to follow the same tactic. Mon Cals, Togruta, Twi'leks and Rodians, slowly they practiced and hid their anger.
"So you're convincing some to give up their pride," Mouse said to him in his dreams.
"You of all people should know, pride belongs to the individual," Daylen said.
"Intriguing, why would you say that?" the demon asked.
"When we first met, you took the form of a cowering mouse, the most powerful of the demons in the hierarchy and you took on such a form, yet you are still pride. Those slaves hold on to their pride, the pride that comes with the promise of freedom and they will be free," Daylen stated.
Mouse smirked then, and in the morning Vim had a matching smirk on his face as Daylen welcomed new slaves with his rations. Amongst the slaves, he met a human man with tanned skin and dark hair with some silver streaks.
"I'm late fifties, people on Tatooine tend to age faster, although it isn't always consistent," the man said.
"What's special about Tatooine?" Daylen asked.
"Twin suns, other than that it's the cesspit of the galaxy, I've been a slave since childhood though I was more an indentured servant, ever since the Brotherhood of Darkness starting forming bases on the planet the slave trade became more aggressive," the man explained.
"What if I told you things could be different here?"
"I'd be sceptical, but I'd listen!"
"I'm Daylen," he offered the man his hand.
"Kitster Banai, nice to meet you!"
Kitster had a Rodian friend, Wald, whom was unfortunate enough to have to spar with one of the Zabrak brothers. Wald wasn't strong, at least not in the way a fighter should be. He had worked as pit crew for an event called Pod racing, so he was broad and muscular for a member of his species. But the Zabrak brother was aggressive, unforgiving and relished the fight. He came close to bashing Wald's head in until Daylen tackled him from behind. Torvan had all three of them tortured, though not to the point of physically crippling them. Shared pain, shared humiliation, it was all piling up, it was all part of Daylen's plan.
On break he would talk, during training he would teach, meeting with Torvan he would map out the place, the guards and the master himself. During the moments he sat, he didn't contemplate his situation, he would look at the guards and their routine. Such a job would create a routine, every job needed one. Doing the same thing day in and day out could be boring, but it was easy for people, so they set routines. The few organic guards had a routine as set as the droids, and their pattern was easy to figure out for Daylen. They lacked any kind of AI that adapted, for Torvan's flaw was that he put money into slaves and his own gluttonous lifestyle.
At night, Daylen used his dreams and the Fade to compose methods of his escape. Calling spirits of imagination and possibility he set out the likelihood of his escape with certain allies and certain knowledge. He read possibilities where he lived, where he sacrificed himself so others could escape. Whenever the demons stared to gather, Daylen would wake himself and watch the night guards and droids and then return to the dreams. A peaceful night sleep was a rare thing for Daylen, and he had to hope too that the Sith would not come for him.
"Why have we not yet gone to him?" Maladi asked her master.
The old ships of Revan's empire were a popular choice, and consisted the bulk of the dark Jedi factions. Interdictor were easy to make and reliable, plenty had been left over from the Star Forge after its disappearance. Some pirates or smugglers based their entire fortune on owning the ships. Krayt stood on the bridge of the ship, looking down at the planet with his arms crossed behind his back.
"Master, I would never question your wisdom, but this red eyed man, slave 13 has shown that he is incredibly powerful and skilled as well, but also that his connection to the dark side is strong. Why have we not taken him?" Maladi asked.
"Tell me Maladi," Krayt began, after a brief silence. "If he was easy to take, would he be worth it?" he asked.
"I don't understand."
"If I wanted cannon fodder, I would simply recruit or purchase them, but an apprentice...I picked you all, because in one way or another you were exceptional. He will fall to the dark side, and when he does, he will willingly bow to me," Krayt explained.
"A ship is coming out of hyper space my lord," one of the acolytes said.
"Is it the Dark One?" Talon asked, seeing it was an Interdictor class ship.
Two more came out of hyperspace, followed by another, then a fourth. A moment passed before two Centurion class battle cruisers appeared. Another ship then followed, dwarfing the others. Krayt's eyes darkened, the glass on the bridge shaking.
"The old one," he corrected.
On the surface of Korvis, the masked man and his knights looked up at the sky, seeing the Mega-Class Star Dreadnought.
"Well, things are about to get very interesting," he mused.
Torvan walked out of his house with Maximus, looking up at the sky with the same dread and awe that every other slave dealer and gladiator owner on Korvis had. He relished at the thought of Kalla the Hutt shaking, her precious gladiator ring put at risk. But he also knew his profit was also at risk, perhaps his life. Dark Jedi factions were dangerous, once they decided that they didn't need to bargain, they would take what they wanted. Even if the criminals on Korvis combined their forces, the resulting battle would be too costly even if they won.
"My damn father's ghost must be laughing, what was it he said 'never attract too much attention son'," Torvan huffed.
He walked back into the house, grabbing a bottle on a tray carried by one of the Togruta females.
"There will be no leaving this planet now," Maximus said.
"Thank you for that observation, I feel praised to have a Mandalorian serve my house, tell me in your infinite wisdom Maximus can you gleam some way for this to work to my fucking advantage?" Torvan demanded.
He poured some of the contents of the bottle down his throat, moving his slaves aside with flourishes of his arms. Maximus returned to his quarters, placing his whip and sidearm on the table. He crouched by his locker, typed his code into the blue panel and opened it. Inside of it was a dirty white hard suit and plates of armour. A jet pack, gauntlets and a helmet with an antenna on the side of it. Maximus pulled the white helmet out of the box, running his fingers over the single line shaped black visor, underneath it was a white guard where the nose would be, and then a small black line before it reached the breather mask. Much like any other Mandalorian helm, the visor had formed a T-shape.
'An honourable battle is out there,' he remembered 13 saying.
Yet Maximus had turned his back on honour a long time ago. Or so he tried to convince himself. Reaching underneath his table, he pulled off the ale bottle he had taped to it. It was a numbing agent, not to get him drunk as Torvan seemed to want at the moment. When Maximus tilted a single shot of it down his throat, he forget the face of that slave. Then he shifted back into the mindset of a trainer and walked back down to the training grounds.
"Do not think that you are free, that people have come to liberate you, that republic ship you see is an old model used by those who have turned their backs on those sitting in power at Coruscant. Nothing has changed, you will continue to train and fight, and die in the arena if need be," Maximus said to the slaves.
Daylen looked up at the sky, seeing the grand fleet orbiting the planet. He grit his teeth together, shoulders trembling as he looked to the ground.
'Damn it, things are going to get harder now,' he thought.
In training he had been paired with the Blade Master. Both given wooden long swords, they clashed. Daylen was barely able to keep up, despite his age advantage. The Twi'lek man brought him to the ground in six moves.
"Impressive, you are a good fighter," the Blade Master said.
"But I'll never be a master of anything," Daylen said.
"Aye, but one doesn't necessarily need to be a master of something," Vim said, carrying a bucket of water hooked to his arm.
The older man knelt by one of the tired human slaves, taking the wooden ladle and pouring some water down the man's throat.
"I need to be better," Daylen muttered.
"Knowledge is power, skill power, the force..."
"What do you know about the force?" Daylen asked.
"I was once connected to it, Blade Master of the Brotherhood of Darkness, until I lost," the Twi'lek man said.
"But you turned away from the force?"
"No, I had my connection to it severed," the Blade Master's hand shook as if he had been robbed of property.
"Kas'Im," he named himself offering his hand to Daylen. "And I know the look in your eyes Stranger, it is the same as what Skere Kaan had!"
"Who is Skere Kaan?"
"A self righteous man, whom fancied himself a revolutionary and philosopher. Founder of the Brotherhood of Darkness after he left the Jedi order, believing them to be the ones responsible for the chaos across the galaxy," Kas'im explained.
"Who are the Jedi?" Daylen asked, and Kas'Im looked at the man in shock.
"The Jedi are the protectors of peace and justice across the republic," Vim said and smirked. "But do not count on them to come and help us!"
Coruscant-Jedi Temple
The members of the service corps felt out of place amongst the robe wearing Jedi. They still considered themselves Jedi, but seeing the poise of the members of the order, as well as the scale and grandeur of their temple reminded them that their own part of the galaxy had little support from the senate. Jay-Den and Sayla stood as Klue exited the elevator, recognising the look of disappointment across his face.
"What happened?" Tiko asked.
"How did it go?" Kaine asked.
"They refuse to intervene, the senate just announced that Korvis is not to be touched," Klue said.
"But why?" Sayla asked.
"The Chancellor recently came to an agreement with the border territories, a new treaty will shut down the Old republic military and replace it with the First Order military," Klue explained.
"But those bastards made their army from child soldiers," Sayla said.
"Yes, however, a treaty with them will rebuild our military strength and restore the outposts and systems lost to us during Revan and the Triumvirates reigns. Demilitarisation is still on his agenda, as recently the Order took possession of Kamino!"
"Those long necks?" Kaine asked.
"Cloners, as opposed to losing a military we dehumanise it, turn it into just another machine influenced by the vote of the senate," Klue lowered his head as he spoke, his hands trembling.
Anger was not the Jedi way, but feelings were natural. They saw the anger in the body language of their master, the disappointment in his eyes. They even sensed the betrayed feelings like a wave crashing over them, and in turn they too felt betrayed.
"Guys," Tiko pointed to a Holoscreen on the far wall of the temple.
They weren't the only ones looking at the screen. It showed a headline and reporters chasing after Carth Onasi. Gone was his military uniform, replaced by a beige coat and gloves.
"Republic hero resigns!"
"Admiral Onasi, Admiral, why have you resigned your commission?"
"What's your opinion of the chancellor's decision?"
"What are your plans now? Can you see yourself joining the separatist movement?"
The man was being bombarded by questions as he waited for a taxi. He turned to them, the whole galaxy able to see his anger.
" Kathleen Rian with Yensid news, Admiral Onasi, the senate's decision marks a turning point and a progression for the galaxy, why resign your commission at this time?"
"Because it is not the republic," Carth muttered.
"What was that?"
"BECAUSE IT IS NOT THE REPUBLIC!" he yelled.
The utter fury on the man's face shocked Klue, but he also didn't disagree.
"Our decision to abandon those people, to worse...legitimise their slavery, not just the people in the arenas on Korvis but the child soldiers used by the First Order is a betrayal of the ideals I and many other soldiers fought for," Carth explained.
"But these men and women will be freed once they have completed indentured servant contracts, what about the proposal for a clone army?"
"Indentured service is simply a 'nicer' way of referring to slavery. The clone army only reinforces this."
"But the lives of soldiers won't be lost anymore!"
"Lives will still be lost, only they won't have any choice...the clones will be slaves, and people like you will see them as flesh droids that can be disposed of. Some people, good people, fought and died for the republic, for freedom and justice, this isn't justice!"
"He's right," Klue muttered.
His students looked at him, seeing the depression in his eyes.
"This isn't the republic I remember, the republic I swore to defend," Klue said.
They walked out of the temple, down the steps towards their cab. But before they could step onto the transport, a silver droid rolled towards them, its frantic beeps catching their attention.
"What is that?" Kaine asked.
"T3-M4, Master Surik's droid," Klue said.
Korvis
Kas'Im and Daylen stood facing one another. The Blade Master had his sword at the ready, holding it in Form 1. Daylen raised his sword over his head, gripping it with both hands. For a moment Kas'Im wondered if it was a light sabre form, but the stance had subtle differences. Again they both shifted their stances, Kas'Im to form 3 whilst Daylen held his sword out in front of him. Then a third time they changed, Kas'Im to Ataru and Daylen raised his sword and held it at an angle.
"You, there is an air about you, tell me, is sword combat common on your world?" Kas'Im asked.
"It was the most common form of combat, before the Sith came to my world," Daylen said.
"Tell me more," Kas'Im demanded, his eyes wide in shock.
"Yes, tell us boy, of the Sith empire," Vim said, walking up to the pair.
It was after training when the three of them gathered at Daylen's cell. He gave them an abridged version of his story, the way the Sith conquered his world, their rebellion and his arrival in their galaxy. What he didn't include was the Lyrium, magic and the fade, nothing that could paint Thedas as a world worth attacking. It was the first time Daylen had seen Kas'Im sweat.
"Lord Hoth announced his intention to destroy the Sith, the teachings of the Dark Jedi have been drawn from the Sith. Marka Ragnos, Naga Sadow, the great Sith kings," Vim mused.
"But the Sith species itself, as well as the empire it once was, has been thought extinct for a thousand years, and you say they were simply in a different part of the galaxy?" Kas'Im asked.
"I do!"
"I know liars when I see them, this boy is no liar, still it will be difficult to return to your world, some might even go so far as to saying impossible," Vim explained.
"With that fleet there, many of the possibilities I considered are voided, yet there has to be a way," Daylen slammed his fist into the wall.
The two men looked down at Daylen.
"I have to free these people, I have to stop them," he said.
Kas'Im huffed and turned his back.
"You know, Skere Kaan was once a good man, whom believed that the Jedi Order and their hubris were the reason the galaxy was so chaotic. He believed he could turn the darkness into a positive force, and bring peace and justice to all. Yet somewhere along the line, he got caught up in the darkness, he looked at the abyss for too long. And in time he became everything he fought against, as is common for those whom draw upon the dark side," he explained.
"It's funny," he looked back at Daylen. "In you, I see what I once saw from him, the desire to save everyone. But if you're going to save anyone, then you'll need to make tough decisions. Save yourself to one day save others, kill to save others."
"But sometimes it all works out the same way," Vim interrupted. "Hubris, greed, corruption, you'll lose sight of your original goal and fall to darkness."
"They're right Day, don't lose yourself to this," Jowan said.
Daylen looked briefly to his side, seeing his old friend again. The ghostly apparition reached a hand to touch his shoulder. But when Daylen raised his own hand, Jowan faded with a face filled with regret. Daylen looked at the robotic appendage and tightened it into a fist.
"More power, I need more power," he whispered.
"That is how it starts," Vim said, crossing his sleeves together and walking away with Kas'Im.
When Daylen was next force into the arena. He walked onto it carrying a longsword in one hand and a curved sword in the other, it reminded Daylen of the swords the people East of Thedas used (Katanas he recalled them being named). Daylen raised his head to the arena and saw the troopers guarding the steps and entrances of the stands. White armoured, much like the troopers occupying Thedas, but their helmets weren't as thick and they all had a black and red pad on their right shoulders. Daylen then looked up to the VIP balcony and saw a cloaked trooper in silver armour, flanking a man in a black military uniform and coat. And ahead of that man, their gloved hand resting on the railing was a man in a black coat and hood, a light sabre handle hanging off of his belt.
Swallowing the surge of hatred that rang through him, Daylen turned to his opponent.
"Hailing from Dathomir, a practitioner of the dark magics of that planet, I present to you, THE NIGHTMARE!" the announcer yelled.
He was a Zabrak, his skin dark red, with brighter red tatoos across his face. He wore a set of gold armour on his upper body, robes on his lower body and armoured gloves. In his hand he held a double bladed sword. Daylen got into the ready stance and waited for the match to start. Suddenly, the door opened on the other side of the arena. A white haired man came out, wearing light Echani armour and wielding a pair of Echani Vibroblades. Then there was a Weequay with a Vibro-axe.
"Looks like we have some new challengers folks, from Paxton Chemicals, the Nightmare's new brothers in arms, THE SHIV AND THE DESERT STORM!" the announcer signalled the crowd to cheer.
His opponents began to circle him, Daylen kept his guard raised, watching every movement his opponents made. He calmed his breathing, and waited. Suddenly, the Nightmare slammed his hand into the ground. Vines suddenly wrapped around Daylen's legs, conjured by some sort of green portal beneath him. The Echani and Weequay took their chances to strike.
'A Zabrak brother that can use Night sister magic,' Maximus widened his eyes in shock.
Daylen parried the Echani's swords, and blocked the Weequay's axe. He diverted their blades towards one another, forcing both back. Focusing his magic, Daylen employed Earth magic to make the ground shake. He noticed the slight tremble of the arena and the people in it. It was enough to keep his opponent's off balance. But the vines, Daylen burned through his boots again, and the vines too. Then he ran for the greater threat. He never understood double bladed weapons, they always seemed too much trouble to master for not enough reward. The Zabrak though was good, using the weapon as both spear and sword. He was good at spinning it too, knocking Daylen off balance for a moment. Daylen quickly dived, avoiding the Weequay's axe. Throwing sand into the Echani's eyes, Daylen threw his long sword, cutting the Zabrak's cheek. He broke off into a run, focusing on the sword.
"That's it Day, use the force," Petra encouraged him.
He reached out, felt the sword tremble, then with a tug of his arm the blade flew, imbedding itself into the Echani's neck. Daylen's eyes flashed to the blade he held, focusing his magic through it. Increasing its density and sharpness, surrounding it in a mana field. Then he swung it, cleaving through the Weequay's neck and cutting the Zabrak's weapon apart. Suddenly, green lightning crackled from the Zabrak's hands, slamming into Daylen's chest and throwing him back. He slid across the sand, rolling onto a heap and looking towards the Zabrak. Green energy glowed around him as he moved his hands over the corpses of the Echani and the Weequay. Both began to rise, like puppets on a string. Their eyes glowed and when they opened their mouths, a green mist emanated from their throats. Daylen raised his hand, pulling one of the Zabrak's swords towards him. But, much to the mage's shock, the Zabrak took hold of the sword and called the second blade to his hand. He linked the swords together, a green spark repairing the double bladed staff.
"You impressed the crowd with your conjurer tricks, but there are more subtle uses of magic," the Zabrak took a few steps towards Daylen.
Suddenly, the Zabrak exploded in a burst of green smoke. Daylen raised his sword right on time, the Zabrak struck his guard when he reappeared to his right. Taking a few steps back, Daylen raised his guard again, barely parrying the Zabrak's second teleporting strike. When the smoke passed, both reanimated corpses struck. The Weequay's axe knocked Daylen off balance, and the Echani slashed his left shoulder and thigh with his swords. Daylen brought his hand up, blocking the swords with his robotic hand. Then he blocked the Zabrak's sword. But the Zabrak had teleported, striking Daylen's guard with enough force to knock him back. Quickly rolling, Daylen dodged the Weequay's follow up swing.
'Focus, come one, focus,' Daylen told himself.
'Fire, no ice, the force, wind, lightning,' he dodged and blocked, seeing parts of the sword blunt as his opponents teleported and struck again and again.
"Entropy spells could be used against Necromancers Daylen," Kinnon told him.
"No try an Anti-magic burst," Petra said.
"He only really bothered with the telekinesis branch of the Spirit school," Niall noted.
"MAYBE NOT DISTRACT HIM GUYS!" Jowan yelled.
The Zabrak cut the thumb off of Daylen's right hand, switching him to switch his sword hand. He then raised the hand when the Zabrak fired the green lightning at him. It pushed him across the sand, and in a flash blew Daylen's right robotic arm apart and threw him onto his back.
'Damn it, not here,' Daylen thought.
He surrounded himself with a field, deflecting the Zabrak's sword. Then he rolled onto a knee, and jumped forward, kneeing the Weequay in the face. The Zabrak rushed forward, but Daylen knocked the Weequay into him. Another surge of green lightning slammed into his sword.
'Not in a disgusting place like this, with disgusting people like this,' he grit his teeth together.
The people in the arena called for death, called for blood. They cheered for the Zabrak as he broke the tip of Daylen's sword. Cried out in awe when green fire spread across the blades of the Zabrak's staff. He twirled the double blade around, clashing with Daylen's sword a few times before their blades crashed. Daylen focused on his sword, trying to put fire through it, but the Weequay and Echani moved in. The flat end of the Weequay's axe managed to catch the side of Daylen's head, and the Echani's sword nipped his neck.
'In a galaxy as grand as this, as advanced as this, why, why do they act like this? Why is the galaxy still this cruel, this disgustingly savage? Why do people allow it to be like this? Doesn't anyone care?'
Some of the green fire burned the right side of his hip. And the Zabrak thrust his hand forward, a rush of wind and sand blowing Daylen back. The mage fell to his back, partly blinded and coated by the sand.
'Why don't people do something about it? How can they claim to be better, to be advanced, if they let this world, and the kind of people here exist,' Daylen's teeth grit together, he trembled in fury. 'Won't anyone do something? Won't anyone say STOP!'
A tear ran down his cheek, a tear of blood as his right eye took on a deeper shade of red.
"Daylen, is this how you really feel about all of this?" Jowan asked.
"You have so much anger Daylen," Greagoir said.
"I always knew you'd make a good Sith," Kaius smirked.
"Daylen," Petra and Niall looked at him with pity.
'Isn't there anyone, who will save us?' Daylen wondered, trying to get back up, but collapsing again.
"Wasn't that your goal hero?" Daveth asked.
"Don't tell me you're finally going to pray," Cousland said.
"You know that no one will hear you," Tabris said.
"But the force can still help you, if you let it in Daylen," Lily said.
"Day!" Jowan whispered.
'Someone, anyone, I need...I need, more power,' Daylen thought, eyes darting to every jeering and disgusting spectator's face. 'More power...so I can kill them all!'
Coruscant
The Corps members and Klue sat in their ship, looking over the Astromech droid. T3-M4 wasn't the most advanced of models nowadays, but during the days of Revan and Malak, it was capable of breaking any encryption. It had also saved the Ebon Hawk crew from the Leviathan and after Revan's fall went onto serve Meetra Surik. T3 let out a series of beeps, Tiko and Klue were both the experts on droid speak so they understood and translated.
"He said he's no longer in service of Master Surik," Tiko said.
"And that he has been given a message to relay to us, go on T3," Klue said.
A light shined from the projector built onto T3's eye. To the surprise of the Corps members, it formed the shape of Grand Master Meetra Surik. She had an apologetic look on her face and looked at her surroundings.
"Master Klue, during the days of the Mandalorian wars you protested against my use of the Mass Shadow generator, out of all the other Jedi that followed Revan, you knew when it was time to stop fighting. Back in the council chamber, it was politics and fear that drove our decision not to intervene on Korvis. As Grand Master, and a supporter of democracy, I had to follow the majority of the council vote," she explained.
Klue shook his head in disapproval, but then lowered it in disappointed understanding. The Jedi Order was split apart by a schism, the order of the old republic needed the republic's support. And as protectors of democracy, it would have been hypocritical for them to not defend the decision of the senate, even if it was a decision they didn't agree with. No one on the council was cold enough to actually support the decision, or to actually want to leave someone to slavery.
"But there is more to this decision than simply bringing a slow end to war, than a political compromise. Your investigation, and the force itself led you to Korvis, to the survivor of that mysterious ship, and the knowledge that he possesses. I sense that he has a role to play, that what he knows may be the key to protecting the republic
"So I must ask you, please, disobey our order not to intervene. Go to Korvis, save those people and bring the survivor back to republic space. Get in contact with Carth Onasi, he will know what to do. Some of us are bound Klue, but the service corps is not, I am not asking you to put any of your students in danger, for there are dark times ahead, I can feel it. If we give up Korvis to the dark Jedi, then the republic as we know it will fall. Please Klue, save the people there, you're their only hope," Surik said, and finally the message stopped.
Klue raised his head and looked at his light sabre.
"My students, I want you..."
"We're going with you," Sayla said.
"That's right, how can any of us stand by when those people on Korvis need us?" Jay-Den asked.
"It isn't that simple, what kind of teacher would I be if put you in danger like that?" Klue asked.
"We've been training hard master, why bother teaching us at all if we can't fight?" Kaine asked.
"There's no real guarantee that we'll have to fight," Tiko said.
"It will certainly lead to a fight, I don't want any of you to die because of this or worse. There are dark side practitioners on Korvis, and even the most strong willed and kindest of people can be tempted. Even those whom are telling themselves that what they're doing is right, that their compromises are necessary, that they are only giving into the dark side just a small amount can fall," Klue explained.
"Master, from how things seem, you might need all the help you can get," Tiko said and the other students nodded.
Klue sighed as he turned away from his students.
"I want you to take the ship, and go to Dantooine, there are caves outside the former temple," he said.
"Is it finally time?" Kaine asked.
"It is time at least for you to put those tech blades down, if you succeed in building them, then you will be ready to join me on Korvis," Klue said.
"Thank you for this chance master, it's like Master Surik said, we may be their only hope," Sayla said.
"No, I suspect that there is another on Korvis already!"
Daylen looked up at the sun, at the faces of the mages around him. Petra, Jowan, Niall, Kinnon, Nilrem, Harry, Sabrina and a multitude of others.
"Your magic is enough," Jowan said to him.
"It isn't!"
"Then make up for it with the force Daylen," Petra said.
'The force, the force, what good is it to me? If it couldn't even keep you all safe, it is as useful to me as the Maker was, as believing was, as FAITH WAS!'
"You believed in us didn't you?" Niall asked.
'And then you died.'
"You believed in Surana and in the choice you made didn't you?" Petra asked.
'And people still died!'
"I was jealous of you, you know, that's why I dabbled in blood magic. But you and I both know that such a thing comes with a cost, your eyes, your ability to heal others. No matter how hard you study the creation school, you can never heal another. But what you are considering, what you are deciding to do, it will destroy you Daylen, if you linger too close to the edge of darkness then you will inevitably fall off that ledge. You are the kindest, and bravest I have ever known and I know that you can get through this with your tactics and your belief. Your magic is still yours Daylen, don't you understand?" Jowan asked.
'I understand, I couldn't save you, I couldn't save anyone. I failed to live up to my ideals and my dreams, ideals and dreams that weren't even mine to begin with. It was his dream, it was Fausten Amell's dream to be a hero, to be good.'
"It was your dream too Daylen," Kinnon said.
"You know that it was your dream too," Petra nodded.
'But it wasn't enough, my magic, my power isn't enough to stop evil. Goodness and light isn't enough to stop evil!'
"So what will you do?" Mouse asked, the forms of the mages fading.
'I will sacrifice, I'll jump into the darkness and blood if I have to,' Daylen thought.
"Oh Daylen," Mouse shook his head. "All right, maybe just a little, if you're willing to pay the price!"
'I...'
"Do it Daylen Amell," Kaius said, suddenly appearing above him. "It is the only way you will gain back the power you lost, and more."
'I...I will!' Daylen thought.
Mouse shook his head again, but then began to push his fingers together.
"Very well, I impart upon you Daylen Amell cursed knowledge, the Mark of blood!" he clicked his fingers together.
A red and black haze appeared around Daylen as he rolled across the floor. The Zabrak stopped, shocked by the bulge that formed on Daylen's right stump. Then the bulge burst, throwing the circuitry of the old robotic arm across the floor. Daylen screamed in agony, his voice echoing out of his mouth. Coils of blood came out of his arm, expanding, slamming onto the floor in the form of a snarling maw. Then it formed a disfigured fist, lashing out at the Zabrak and forcing him to jump back. Black lightning, with a red outline crackled across the arm and half of Daylen's face. Then red fire with a black core shot out at the arena's far wall, coating it like dragon's breath. The mound of blood began to shrink and Daylen watched as it formed a new arm. Five digits, but the skin was rough red, a construct of dried blood with veins of it stretching up to Daylen's shoulder. Flexing the fingers of his new hand, he formed a fist and then opened it, lightning and fire crackled in his hand, giving off the same black and red affect it had before. And the ice, even that was black and red, his magic felt different now, wrong somehow. Yet he could feel the power flow through him, and drawing on the dark side, as well as his own tolerance, he worked through the immense burning pain in the nerves of his arm. Gripping his sword, Daylen moved towards his opponent.
"An unexpected development folks, what terrifying feats is the red eyed stranger capable of now..."
"MY NAME IS DAYLEN AMELL!" Daylen yelled.
His voice echoed, darkness covering every inch of his body, only his red eyes glowing through it. The people in the arena had grown silent, looking at Daylen with fear. He took a few steps forward, the darkness fading as fire formed in his right hand. Throwing his arm forward, he unleashed the black flames on the Echani corpse, burning it into ribbons. The Weequay corpse brandished its axe, only for Daylen to throw his hand forward again. This time, a black mist emanated from Daylen's finger tips. The mist consumed the Weequay, forming black crystals that froze him. Daylen shattered the crystal and the Weequay with a punch, his eyes set on the Zabrak.
"NOT THIRTEEN! NOT YOUR SLAVE! NOT YOUR ENTERTAINMENT!" Daylen roared.
The Zabrak swung his double blade, but with a single swing of his sword, Daylen shattered one of the blades. He amplified his strength with the dark side, focusing on his anger, and surrounded the sword with a field of black and red magic. It increased the weapon's density, a different use of the telekinetic weapon spell that Daylen again applied to shatter the Zabrak's other blade. The Zabrak jumped back and conjured his green lightning again, this time firing it with both hands. Daylen blocked the lightning with the palm of his new hand, his face showing mild annoyance. Slowly, the lightning began to change its colour to the same black and red lightning that Daylen had used. When it finally reached the Zabrak's hands, he recoiled away in horror. Veins of blood began to form on his arms, making his skin bubble.
"What have you...WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!" the Zabrak screamed.
Daylen slowly raised his hand, levitated the ticking Zabrak bomb. The man was in agony, his skin burning as the red and black energy popped his eyes and gushed out of his mouth. Daylen prepared to throw it at the crowd of people, to blow them to bits and infect the others with the Zabrak's now poisoned blood and guts. A sadistic smile crossed his face as he imagined the pain he could put them in. But then, he saw them, children clutching their parent's legs. Yet they were still here, watching this, their parents were responsible.
'But they're still kids,' Daylen thought.
He wanted to throw him, he needed to throw him. Damn those children, they were spectators to this sickness now. Yet they were not yet capable of deciding whether this was right or wrong yet. They were just a group of children, stuck in the dumb decisions their parents had made. Tragic but necessary sacrifices for a just cause.
'Damn it, what am I doing?' Daylen wondered, dropping his smile, disgusted with himself. 'Yet, if I don't kill these people, WHO WILL?'
Before he could truly decide however, pain ran through his neck. The shock collar brought him to his knees, forcing him to drop the Zabrak bomb, which detonated on the ground. The man in the black uniform stroked his chin, intrigued and impressed by the display. Daylen however screamed, both in pain from the collar and his new arm, and the regret over what he had considered becoming.
Next Episode 31: Raid
The look of Daylen's new arm is inspired by Ninja Gaiden's grip of murder.
Next time the Rebels commence their operations against the Empire.
