Chapter 43 - Confrontation

Takodana

The Jedi Temple

It was not the first time Rey had faced the Sith in battle. Some ten years ago, her first mission as a Jedi Knight had been to stop the resurrection of an ancient Sith Lord, Marka Ragnos, by mad cultists and surviving Inquisitors. She could still feel the scars she'd earned in those terrible battles; could still remember the malignant presence of Ragnos given form. Yet despite it all, she and her fellows had conquered their evil, and they'd been barely out of their teens.

But this was different. He was different. The light of madness and delusions of power that had radiated from the cultists was practically nonexistent here. There was only a cold certainty. Even the very air felt chilled in his presence. She tried to reach out with the Force to get a measure of her opponent, but there was something there. Something that blocked her.

Within the vision of the Force, life and death radiated in different ways. But when she looked upon this man in black, there was nothing. It was as though she was staring into a black hole of nothingness where life and death, light and darkness existed yet did not. Not even Ragnos' spirit had felt like this.

"I can feel you peeking around here," he said, tapping a finger to the side of the helmet, "I wouldn't bother. The helm has a bit of a strange effect on things."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you want, Sith?"

"I'm here for you, Jedi," he stepped forward and she stepped back. He shook his head at her, extending his right hand out. "Don't do that. I'm not here to fight."

"Really?" she smiled thinly, gesturing to the men lying beneath them in the depths of the log, "Do you leave that for them to do? No, I don't think so. You don't seem the type."

"Well, I did just get here," he shrugged.

"Then you can leave," she gestured behind him, "and take your dogs with you. You've done enough damage here, monster."

"Monster? I'd be careful about throwing that word around, Jedi, especially to someone you've only just met."

Rey felt a flash of disappointment at that, but she didn't let it show. "So there is no one I know under that mask, then?"

"Perhaps there is," he said offhandedly, "perhaps there isn't. But this really isn't the place for that kind of question. Now, come quietly."

"Or what? You'll make me?"

"Don't be stupid. You have no weapons, no lightsaber and I think you can tell that my connection to the Force is stronger than yours. You can fight, but I'll win."

"I wouldn't know. Your helmet makes your presence a bit hazy. For all I know, you could be an absolute scrub that I'll beat in five minutes."

"Willing to bet credits on that?" she felt the challenging smile in his voice as his hand traced to the butt of his saber.

"Let's find out," and she threw his hands out to her side. In a heartbeat, she felt the polymer grips of blasters fill them. In another, she was shooting. Emerald bolts screamed across the void as in a reflex just as fast, the crossguard ignited with a loud hiss.

Rey dove back as the bolts struck and came screaming back with the sharp pang of plasma hitting plasma. She moved and twisted her body the necessary inches, firing as she did. He slowly advanced, his saber an incomprehensible blur of crimson that sent bolts flying in every direction.

With feline grace, Rey landed on her feet and stretched her mind out; applying the necessary pressure to crack the log ahead without any hint of detection. She began her retreat then, drawing him closer and closer while she kept shooting. He took a step, then another. Then she heard the loud snap of wood breaking and smiled in the expectation of him falling away.

Only, it didn't happen. They both stopped, seeing that he was standing on nothing but air. He looked up at her, and she could feel him smirk. "Still think I'm an absolute scrub?"

"Still on the fence on that," and she somersaulted into the air, sending a powerful telekinetic strike into the log itself. The wood crumbled with an echoing explosion, but the Sith was in the air first. In a blur of movement, he threw himself at her and she had twist out of the way to avoid his blade.

As she righted and came down, she smelled the stench of burning hair and felt a slight sting just over her left ear. Ahead, the Sith came down with the flapping of his cloak, holding a bundle of her hair between his fingers. "Still on the fence, Jedi?"

"Oh shut up and die," she cursed as she bolted to her left with a single concentrated burst of speed, zipping through the trees. The air screamed and bit into her skin as the world turning into a blur of green. Behind her, the Sith followed; his blade leaving a burning trail behind him.

At the last second, she rolled into a cartwheel and fired as she went. With incredible control, the Sith slowed his velocity just short of hers and moved to catch the incoming projectiles. He charged, swinging wildly. Rey kept shooting, always just a few inches short of his attacks as she danced around him.

He lunged and swung at her head. She bobbed her head back as she fired from the hip. When he moved to block it, she sent him flying with a telekinetic shove. However, he righted himself in seconds and responded in kind. The blow struck her hard in the chest and sent her flying, causing her skid across the ground until she hit a tree.

She threw off the nausea and got back to her as he advanced. She shook her sight. She couldn't beat him. With her saberstaff, she might've been able to close the distance and negate his Force advantage. But with what she had, she could not beat him. She needed to disengage and get help.

The moment she tried to bolt however, she heard the groan of a tree cracking in two and rolled forward to avoid being crushed. Ahead, the Sith pointed his weapon at her, its fiery point aimed at her face, "I've made my point, Jedi. Surrender."

"Over my dead body."

"Oh, I certainly hope not. I want to take you alive," and he dashed forward with his blade swinging. In the milliseconds she had, Rey blasted the ground ahead with a concentrated strike. The Sith leapt into the air, but that left him exposed and she threw everything short of a kitchen sink at him.

Though his defense was good, it was not perfect and she found her marks. One in particular smashed into his face and left a vicious crack over his visor to mirror the left one. Still he kept coming, tanking the hits without stopping. She was soon on the run again, and whatever advantage she had in speed or technique were quickly being overtaken by his dogged onslaught.

She turned her attention to the old pine ahead. After a series of placed shots, the tree came crashing down and Rey sent it hurtling at the pursuing Sith. She didn't wait for confirmation, running with everything she had. Something sounded behind her. She threw herself flat as a red wave passed over where her shoulder had been.

"Where do you think you're going, Jedi?" she heard behind her as the saber flew back.

"Away from you!" and she slammed her fist into the ash covered floor with such force that it created a massive whiteout. She didn't try running forward as expected, instead rolling to her side and behind a thicket of sycamores. She turned her head back, barely able to make out the faint hint of the crossguard.

She couldn't sense him there thanks to agony of nexus world. It seemed like he was having the same problem, looking around for her. Something sounded off in the distance, and he took off running after it. She breathed a sigh of relief as he disappeared, taking a second to collect herself before she'd beat a hasty retreat.

Then the blade came screaming at her from the gray, slicing straight into the tree and stopping at its emitter. She screamed in horror as the blade started sliding towards her, and she threw herself back to avoid being dissected. That had been her mistake.

In mid-flight, something gripped her and dragged her through the air until strong arms took hold of her. Both tightened around her throat as a hand pushed against the back of her neck. Her mind was already going faint as her trachea was being closed by his power grip. Immediately, she grabbed hold of his arms and tried to throw him by bending at the waist. Instead, he moved with the motion and dragged them both to the floor with her on top.

He increased the pressure. She was seeing white and spots and there was a ringing in her ears. She threw elbows, but felt the sharp pain of hitting armor. She tried to bite his arm, but found she couldn't. She threw blows against his retraining arm, but they became feeble in moments as everything became numb.

"Don't fight it," she heard him whisper, "Don't fight it."

They were the last words she heard as the darkness took her.

FN-2187… Finn, was faster than Phasma expected, and more dangerous. Granted, she hadn't quite known what to expect. In a fight, she had a cardinal rule of understanding her opponent first before engaging. But this was an unknown factor as she did not fully understand the Force, or how the Jedi fought.

They're methods were incomprehensible nonsense to her. There was no rhyme or rhythm to their movements, instead being completely tailored to their precognition. It made them more like dancers in rehearsal than proper duelists. It made their strategy difficult to see, and almost point. 'It's all spontaneous, instinctual action' had been Svar's way of putting it.

But Finn was different. He had method, he had strategy, but now there was a strength, speed and coordination unlike anything she'd fought. It was almost beyond her, even with her years of experience. This much was proven as she was slowly driven to the wall by blinding flashes at every corner she struggled to defend against. Her arms ached from the onslaught as her vision was consumed by sparks of blue and white.

There was one saving grace: she'd taught him how to fight. She remembered he had the tendency to overcommit when victory was in sight. He was much like a predator in that way. She drew a preemptive defense against his tight overhead flurries and saw the kick coming. She left it hit, drawing him as he held his saber held close to cheek to finish her off. She thrust her blade to meet his, tilting it under and throw the saber to the side as she moved to slash him across the stomach.

Somehow, he moved as she did his. Her blade cut thin air inches from her target, and she felt him moving to counter. Caught in an awkward position, she allowed the momentum to carry her downward to the ground. She grabbed the blade with her armored glove in a half-sword technique, spinning to slam the handle into his back and toss him onto the floor.

As she spun around again with Messer raised high, she saw that he was already rolling back to his feet a second after hitting the ground. She swung to catch him, missed by inches, and prepared to thrust forward when she found plasma pointed at her chest. She instinctively drew back and slapped the blade away, only for Finn to draw it back into place.

She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, and resolved herself. She drew back her foot and brought her blade into the long guard. Finn mirrored her exactly, the cyan lightsaber bringing a fierce intensity to his eyes. Their blades crossed, feeling the other for some small quiver of the next movement.

"You can't win," he said, moving to her right in a clockwise fashion, "and I think you know this."

She met his eye, moving to his left as they circled like wolves. "You've only learned tricks, Trooper. I trained you. I raised you. I know you."

"And I've outgrown you."

Suddenly, his blade flicked under hers and knocked it to the side. He lunged with a thrust as quick as a blink, and she was barely able to repost and counter. He sidestepped as she did, forcing her to deflect an quickened slash and throw a thrust to keep him at bay. She retreated a step, feeling a sudden pain over her left cheek.

She didn't bother to feel for it, instead of keeping her eyes on his. "You're a cheeky little stain, aren't you?"

"Merely proving a point. I've only begun to understand my power, Captain. But even this is more than you-"

Her blade slipped over his and pushed in. Her blade slipped through the top of his hand and then across his bicep. If he hadn't twisted when he did, she would've had his thumbs and shoulder. Now twisted to the side, she grabbed him by his head and threw him onto the floor with a hard thumb.

She closed in with her blade held high to skewer him. His blade came up, she pushed it to the side, and then she took a kick to the head. She fell over, translating into a rough roll as she heard the whine of the lightsaber moving behind her. She let him close the distance, and only when she smelled the cracking ozone did she spin to her left. She felt another sharp pain at her nape as she did, but she kept moving.

She brought the handle around to club him in the back of the head, contacting with a loud crack and he stumbled forward. She moved to follow him with her messer held at the blade, but he dropped to his back and brought the lightsaber up. Too late to advert her fall, she pushed the blade aside and slammed her knee into his weapon arm. She brought the point around for his throat when she felt a sudden pain in her back.

She was conscious of her blade hitting stone and her flying away as she hit the ground hard. She was dully aware he'd somehow thrown her yards, but her instincts pushed that aside as she forced herself up. She ran, scooping up stones and throwing them at a dark blur stretching out for something. She had no idea if they hit, but they bought her enough time to close the distance.

Her hands went for his throat and arm, her vice like fingers digging into the soft flesh and drawing blood as she slammed a knee into his gut. Instead of bowing over, Finn moved into a tackle and slammed her back into the floor. She fought the nausea sweeping her, pushing her hands up to claw at his eyes while she tried to wriggle her knees under his chest.

Another second, and they were rolling over each other until she was thrown across the yard again. This time, she landed with grace and went for her Messer. When she came up, Finn already had his pointed inches from her. All he had to do was lurch forward and the plasma would sear through her armpit.

"Drop it," he ordered. In the second to answer, she realized he wasn't even tired. His breathing was absolutely steady. She however was panting, even though she was in the best possible shape she could be. She narrowed her eyes at him, readying to swing if given just the right window.

"You'll have to kill me, 'Finn.' Because I will not stop until you are."

"No, you are beaten. You can't. Go now and get my sister to safety."

"Safety?" she repeated before her eyes widened, "How did you know that?"

"Because I can feel her dying, Captain. If you continue fighting me, she will die."

"And if I let you go? You'll just come back to haunt us."

"No, I'll come back to free you. All of you."

Phasma watched his eyes, his face. He wasn't lying. Whether he was genuine about his intentions was beyond the point. He was right. Damn him, he was right. She couldn't beat him, not in a duel like this. And Ones…?

But if she did let him go, how many more of her children was he going to get killed?

"Mum, they are going to die anyway," he interrupted, "all for a war we did not choose."

"Stop reading my mind!" she snapped.

"Then stop thinking out loud. Besides, I don't need the Force to know what you're thinking."

"And what am I thinking, Trooper?"

"That I'm right. That no matter how much you try to deny it, you know I'm right."

Phasma ground her teeth behind closed lips, resisting the urge to vocally deny it. But she couldn't.

"I… I… damn you," she began to lower her blade. Finn's eyes widened and she saw him turning his head as if he were about to yell something. She turned, and the last thing she saw was a crimson fire slamming into her.

"No!" Finn shouted, but it was too late. The Bowcaster bolt sang through the air and Phasma was sent flying with a terrible micro-explosion. She crashed into the wall, flopped onto the ground like a dead fish… and did not move.

"No no no!" he screamed, sliding in to grab at her smoldering body. The bolt had struck along her side, and had taken much of her lower back with it. She was out. He could feel her heart beating, but it was fading fast. Too fast.

He heard the heavy foot falls of the Wookie close in behind him. He growled a question down at him, and Finn bit back a screaming curse. Instead, he hissed through clenched teeth to keep his voice level. "Chewbacca, find a stretcher. Quickly."

The wookie snarled at him, asking him why. She was his enemy.

Finn glared at him, snapping, "Get a stretcher or so help me, I will skin you alive!"

Chewbacca bared his teeth at him, drawing his weapon in… and then he stopped. He must've seen something in the humans' eyes. He sighed, nodded, and took off at a trot back the way he came. Finn turned back to the Captain. The bolt had been encased in plasma, so it had severely cauterized the wound. He knew the moment he tried to move her though, it would reopen the wound. But if he didn't move her, she would die.

He pulled out his medical kit, finding bacta strips and gel-gauze. He began to apply both, planning to wrap the wound in her cloak after when he suddenly felt movement coming his way. "That was fast, Chewbacca. I-"

He turned, and found the barrel of an F-11 pointed at his face.

"Traitor!" the shooter hissed. Finn didn't know the man, but he knew he was a Stormtrooper or at least was one. He guessed the latter, considering how big he was. Another came over, this time a woman, and she was almost the same size as her squadmate.

"Up!" she ordered, "Step away from her!"

"No," he growled, throwing his medical pouch at her, "I'm trying to save her life. Either shoot me, or help."

"Did you do this, Eighty-Seven?" the man asked, "If you did-"

"I didn't. Are you going to help?"

They looked at each other, and then shouldered their weapons. They drew their own medical kits, and with practiced ease began to layer Phasma's grievous injury with bacta and gauze.

"What the hell did this? This isn't a blaster burn." The woman asked.

Finn looked up as Chewbacca's silhouette pierced the smoke ahead. "A bowcaster bolt."

The Troopers immediately drew their weapons, but the wookie held up a makeshift stretcher. He growled something at them. They both looked at Finn, and he nodded. "Bring it here, Chewbacca. Please."

"Chewbacca," the man hissed, "as in Han Solo's-"

"Eighty, please don't tick off the wookie."

"Just saying, L," Eighty growled as he glared at Finn, "you're a dead man, traitor. Might not be today, might not be tomorrow, but you're going to hang for this. I'll make sure of that."

"Yes, I'm sure. Lift and tie."

With Chewbacca's help, they managed to wrap Phasma torso in her cloak and carefully set her down onto the stretcher. L reached for her comm, "Twenty-Three, this is L. Phasma is down. I repeat, Phasma is down. She needs immediate dust-off and care."

There was a long silence before she nodded, "Understood. We'll be there in three. Out. Eighty?"

"I've got her, let's move. Eighty-Seven, if you try to-"

"Just go," Finn interrupted, "and get her off this forsaken planet."

They looked at him for a moment as though expecting him to try something. Then they plucked up the woman who had raised them all, and disappeared into the smoke. When they'd gone, Finn spun around and struck Chewbacca in the stomach. Even with his gradually enhancing strength, it was like hitting a wall and he flexed his hand painful.

Still, Chewbacca snarled and reared back to retaliate when he stayed his hand just short of sending Finn through a wall. He sighed, and growled a question at him.

"What? I don't understand you."

Chewbacca growled again, jutting at his head. It took Finn a second to understand the gesture, and began to read his thoughts.

"Rey, Han. Seen 'em, pip-squeak?"

"No I haven't, you giant mongrel. I thought they were with you."

"Well they're not. Put your pansy feelings aside and help me find them."

"Sure thing, backstabber."

Chewbacca glared down at him. "She was trying to kill you."

"She was putting down her sword!" Finn snapped back.

"Didn't look like that from my perspective."

"I had the situation under control. If you hadn't interfered-"

"She'd what? Defect? Join you in your merry crusade?"

"No, I wanted her to go back. To tell the others the truth I'd shown her. To stop this war before it even started!"

"Started? Look around you, boy! It has already begun! Besides, do you honestly think she could stop this from going any further, after what's been done already?"

"Well, we won't know now, won't we? Maybe it is wishful thinking, but," Finn shook his head, trying to keep his voice from cracking, "just maybe, she could've."

Chewbacca sighed at that, placing his massive hand on his shoulder, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But we don't have time for this."

Finn nodded, taking a breath to clear his head. "You're right. Let's find the others."

It had been a long time since he'd walked these woods, and somehow even the war around them hadn't disturbed the silence here. Kylo Ren was glad the pirates had gone the other way. The peace was… well, just that. It reminded him of a better time, a simpler time. When he'd had everything, and everyone a man could want. He felt Rey moan softly in his arms and he stopped to look at her. He watched the subtle movements of her face, the stirring of her hair, the softness of her-

"Stop," he said to himself, "you're not here for nostalgia. The mission-"

Mission?

His head shot up. his hand dropping to his saber as the other held the Jedi in place against his chest. "Who's there? Show yourself."

Tell me, is it worth it? Any of it?

He spun around, but there was nothing but trees. Not even birds or insects were present. "Stop playing games. Show yourself."

And now you've brought her into it. Why?

"I said-" Something ignited behind him. He spun, blade pointed… and then he realized where he was. "Son of a mynok."

Ahead, the blue flame burned brightly in the courtyard. A swirling mist appeared, and he saw a silhouette appear at its center. Kylo Ren stared at it wide-eyed behind his helm. His hand holding the saber quaked as he mouth fall agape. The silhouette began to take form. A humanoid form… a womans form. At the top, he saw… no, it couldn't be.

He closed his eyes, but they were still there. Horns. A pair of horns.

Why have you done this?

"I-" but he couldn't answer. He began to walk without realizing it, stepping into the courtyard as he walked towards it. The mist swirled around his feet, pulling at him. He didn't dare stop it.

Was I that important to you? That you would do this? All of this?

"Yes," he replied at last, "you were."

He stretched his hand out, walking deeper and deeper into the mist. He didn't know what he was supposed to do next or what he would do if what he was seeing was real. Ironically, he wasn't given the choice. The mist was suddenly, violently ripped from him, as though some invisible void was tearing it away.

"No!" he called out, reaching out desperately to pull it back. "No! Come back!"

But it was too late. The vision faded. He found himself in an empty courtyard alone, his hand outstretched and Rey still unconscious in his arms. He stared at the ground where it had been… and not.

"I am alone, then. Even you have abandoned me," he whispered. Then he considered something. The thought made him shake with rage. "Or are you incapable of showing yourself to me?"

He moved to wrench his helm from his face before he stopped himself. What was the use? What would she say to him that he didn't already imagine of himself? What could he say to her to make her understand why this had to happen? He couldn't bring himself to answer those questions and he slowly, reluctantly, pulled his hand from his face.

"The mission isn't over." He looked again at the flame, still burning there, "soon."

Above, he heard the roar of transports flying in and he took his leave with all haste, unaware that he was being followed. It wasn't until the transport was in sight ahead, waiting for him, that he finally felt it. The one familiar presence he had prayed he wouldn't meet here. But it was there.

He turned very slowly to find Han Solo standing there, looking at him. Pain, regret, horror: all of it was etched on his face. A face he had dreaded seeing again. For Kylo, Lord of Ren, it was like looking at a mirror of everything that had been taken for him, staring right back at him.

'Why couldn't you have just stayed away, old man?' he wanted to say, but didn't. The hope Han had in his eyes made sure of that. The hope of something that couldn't be. Han stretched his hand for him. Kylo flinched back, but Han kept coming. He didn't know what to do. What-

Suddenly, there was a burst of plasma fire and Han dove for cover. A pirate appeared at his side, barking for him to get aboard. Kylo stared at where Han had disappeared to, the small wall crumbling under the barrage.

'The mission isn't over.'

"He won't bother us, Pirate. Come."

As he turned to leave, he felt the pirate pull for detonator. "Oh no! He's worth 50k dead! I'm gonna collect for me troubles!"

Behind his mask, Kylo's lips twisted into a snarl. Without sign, without breaking his stride, he reached his mind back and armed the explosives strapped to his chest. Panic took him as he screamed for help, but the Lord of Ren did not care. As he stepped onto the transport, the pirate exploded. There was nothing left of him, but a crater. Kylo turned to the ranking NCO, growling, "Is everyone aboard?"

It took a moment for the man to pull his eyes from what happened to answer in a stammering voice, "Er… y-yes, m'lord."

"Then take off. Now."

The doors closed behind him and in moments they were in atmo. Kylo settled himself and his prisoner at the back of the transport. Everyone else kept a healthy distance. He didn't mind at all.

"Bonnie, status?" Captain Sydow bellowed.

"The last of the transports have docked, cap'n."

The Crimson Corsair nodded, focusing his attention on the Kenobi ahead as though he were willing it to finally die. Every available ship still capable of firing ion cannons were pouring burst after burst into the smoking Nebula-Class Star Destroyer, even as they in turn blazed from the enemy fleet and their damnable bombers. Every second ticked as Sydow watched the mission clock. 4 minutes, 29 seconds it read.

'C'mon, Antilles. Cash out already.'

The Kenobi had engaged it's interdictor fields the moment they'd closed broadsides. It wasn't as powerful as a standard Interdictor Cruiser, but it had enough range to keep them stuck here and running away wasn't an option.

Critical failures were reported everywhere, ships calling in excessive damages. Atmo vents, decks lost, shields gone, weapons offline. It all ran through his ears as he bit his lip until it bled. 3 minutes, 15 seconds.

The enemy must've been aware of what was happening too. A Rendili-IV Assault Frigate charged the line and began pouring fire into the Scarlet Night's hull. His comms officers called out that the other ships were moving to engage the frigate, but Sydow snapped, "Belay that! Do not disengage from the Kenobi! Keep shooting!"

2 minutes, 45 seconds. The lights suddenly went out to be replaced by emergency ones that painted the room scarlet. Power failures were reported, engines were fluttering out, shields were down to barely 6%.

"Keep all power in the weapons system!" he all but screamed. Then, as though a miracle happened, the Kenobi guns stopped. It's shields flickered out and it started to tilt out of axis. They'd finally knocked out it's power generators. 1 minute, 44 seconds.

"All ships, prepare to jump to hyperspace!"

"Calculations in thirty seconds, sir!" his navigator reported, "Sending data packages to all other-"

Alarms suddenly rang out and in that moment, Sydow felt his heart stop beating. Far ahead, multiple signals reported and then materialized in the form of Star Destroyers and Mon-Cala Cruisers. A half dozen of them. Behind, a dozen more support ships arrived. 1 minute, 33 seconds. Reinforcements had arrived early.

"This is Admiral Raddus of the New Republic Navy! Power down your ships, or you will be destroyed!" The comms barked.

"19 seconds to calculations, sir!"

"Cap'n, their power systems are coming online! Estimated time-"

"15 seconds!"

"-in 10 seconds, sir!"

"We're dead! We're so frickin'-"

Sydow struck the man across the head, "Stow that talk, or I will flog you, Mister D'jeen!"

"Five seconds!"

"Enemy systems are online! I'm detecting inter-"

"Calculations mapped! Ships report ready!"

"LAUNCH!" Sydow roared as reality was pulled at the seams. Everything around him stretched into inmaterium, sharp daggers of white tearing the space ahead to pieces as an event horizon appeared at its center. Then, they were through.

Sydow opened his eyes, and was rewarded with the familiar and joyous sight of a hyperspace wormhole pulling through the void. They'd made it.

A note from the Authors:

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher here. Same story as before, we are currently still writing Chapter 43. While we will work to get our backlog back by November 10th, we may delay the release of certain chapters if we can't. I will update if this is the case. For that reason, no preview will be posted this time. We'd also like to thank Terminator57 and IanAlphaAxel for their reviews.

Happy Halloween.