Star Wars: Return of the Sith

19: Dark Force Rising

By Nanaki

226 A.B.Y.

Jerin's ears were assaulted by a howl of pure rage, and he was only dimly aware that the sound was coming from his own throat. His vision seemed to darken around the edges, and he could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He HAD to kill them all now, for Zairina's sake. Of course, that had already been the plan, but it was in the interests of self-defense at first. Now, it was the principle of the thing. But how was he going to pull it off? He'd been crouching in the same spot for entirely too long now, and his surviving enemies had fanned out enough to give them a pretty good shot at him no matter which way he moved. Jerin could easily shoot anyone who moved forward on the central catwalk directly above him, but to get a clear shot at anyone else he'd have to stand up out of cover.

Jerin paused to take a ragged breath, then resumed his shout with even more intensity. His vision was literally turning red. He didn't want to plan this out carefully, he just wanted to kill them all, right now. He stood up, and he wasn't all that surprised when the crate he'd been kneeling behind hovered up in the air, continuing to shield him. He looked past it, to the back left corner of the room, where a handful of thugs were clustered on the catwalk, still shooting at him, though a few were now fumbling to change out the spent power packs in their blasters. Jerin reached out toward them with his left hand, then slowly curled his hand into a fist, focusing on the pain still radiating from his left armpit. The catwalk in the corner obediently crumpled into a tight ball, sending most of the men on it tumbling to the floor, though a particularly unfortunate Gamorrean was crumpled up inside it.

Jerin's head snapped back as a blaster bolt impacted directly into the center of his visor, but the displays in his helmet compensated quickly, and his vision remained unimpaired. Still red, but otherwise fine. He glared up at the Nikto that had apparently taken the shot, then thrust his right arm forward in a traditional Force push gesture. The crate hovering in front of Jerin shot forward, smashing into the Nikto and then the wall behind him with a satisfying crunch.

A new flurry of blaster bolts came at Jerin from the right, and he turned to see about half a dozen enemies clustered in the back right corner of the catwalk coordinating their shots rather well. Jerin reached up with both arms, then clenched his fists and brought them down again, acting as if he was tearing something down. Above him, the catwalk began to warp and twist around the cluster of enemies. Having seen what had happened to their comrades on the other side of the room, this group scattered toward the central catwalk that was still intact. Jerin jumped up to the central catwalk without hesitation, only dimly aware that he'd just leaped twenty five feet straight up, while wearing full armor.

The group of thugs charged him all together. Jerin dropped the first two with his blasters, but the others closed to melee range before he could take aim at them. No matter, Jerin simply blinked while his eyes focused on a specific symbol in his helmet's HUD, and the retractable blades in his gauntlets thrust out, then locked in place. Jerin quickly dispatched the others while they ineffectively tried to find gaps in his armor they could exploit.

Jerin stood there a moment, his armor now more red than grey, and tried to calm down enough to actually think. On the other hand, he was afraid that if he did calm down, his newfound power in the Force might desert him. It WAS the Force, wasn't it? What else could it be? A few blaster bolts came up at him from below, but not many. Looking down, Jerin saw a pair of Rodians shooting at him from either side of a doorway on the opposite side of the chamber from where he'd entered. There were no other enemies in sight. Jerin knew there had to be more than two left. At least eight or nine, he figured. He briefly wondered if it would be better to let them go, so they could tell others what a mistake it was to try to take him on. But no, they had killed his wife, there would be no mercy.

Jerin jumped back to the floor, not feeling any pain even as he left a fair sized impact crater, then charged toward the Rodians. Jerin could tell these two had seen their fair share of battles, as they remained calm and carefully kept firing at his helmet even as he got close to them. In fact, they aimed at his helmet's visor so well, Jerin had a feeling these two were largely responsible for Zairina's death. He didn't slow as he got close, but rather charged into the one on the left shoulder first, smashing him into the wall behind them so hard he instantly crumpled to the floor. Then some instinct told Jerin he needed to jerk his head back, which he did, narrowly avoiding a blaster bolt that would have hit him right in the neck. He spun toward the other enemy, pushing the barrel of the Rodian's blaster out of the way with his right hand, then bringing the blades on his left forearm up to slice through his enemy's neck.

As the second Rodian collapsed to the floor, Jerin became aware that the two had shot up his helmet's visor so effectively that he really couldn't see very much. In the heat of the moment, it hadn't seemed to matter, but now, he had to take it off. As soon as he did, a fresh hail of blaster bolts flew at him from down the hallway the two Rodians had been guarding. Still? Jerin thought he had demonstrated by now that he both would and could kill them all, and he had expected the enemies that remained to run. But no, they were still trying to accomplish their impossible mission. Jerin brought up his arms in front of him, partly to protect his head, but mainly to summon up more of his newfound power. This time, instead of clenching his fists, he kept his hands flat, and willed a wave a pure destruction to emerge from them. What resulted was not another simple, invisible Force Push, but an impressive burst of Force Lightning that filled the hallway. Jerin was pleased to see that it behaved just as actual lightning would, seeking out substances that would conduct electricity better than the cold walls of he hall. Those substances being the enemies that were still shooting at Jerin.

As the Force Lightning died away, Jerin paused to listen for a moment. He didn't hear any movement nearby, though it was still hard to hear anything over the sound of his own heartbeat. He walked forward slowly, seeing a cluster of downed enemies in a junction with another hallway up ahead. It looked like he'd finally gotten them all, though he couldn't be sure. He wasn't sure exactly how many there had been in the first place. As soon as Jerin stepped into the intersection, he saw something coming at his head out of the corner of his eye. He brought up his left forearm to block, and a large vibro-axe bit deeply into it. Holding the axe was the same Gamorrean that had ordered his men to kill them in the first place. He was sporting several nasty looking burns, but otherwise still seemed to be in fighting shape. He was putting all his strength behind the axe, and seemed surprised that he couldn't overpower Jerin with brute force.

Jerin met force with Force, bringing his right hand around for a quick Force Push that sent the Gamorrean tumbling end over end down the hall. Jerin picked up the vibro-axe as he advanced on his lone remaining enemy. "Tell me," he began much more calmly than he felt, "Why show such intense loyalty to a master who could not care less if you die during your mission?"

The Gamorrean was trying to get back to his feet, but not succeeding, so he settled for glaring up at Jerin. "They control every aspect of our lives. Nothing personal, it's about keeping my family fed."

Jerin regarded the axe in his hand for a moment. "Normally, I might be sympathetic to your situation. But, you murglaks killed my wife." Now, Jerin hefted the axe above his head. "In a way, you're lucky. Your pain is nearly over. Mine... is just beginning." With that, he brought the axe down, as hard as he could.

230 A.B.Y.

"If I'd been thinking clearly, I would have gone after Gadran right away, before he knew for sure that I'd survived." Jerin explained to Denan. "But, I don't want to meet the man who can think clearly in that situation. Instead, I took Zairina home, made sure she was properly put to rest. I also finally accepted a little financial help from my parents, in the form of a significant ship upgrade. My father pointed out that I wasn't going to be able to avenge his daughter-in-law with what I was flying at the time. By the time I was actually ready to go after Gadran, he'd surrounded himself with a small army. Even moreso than what's usual for a Hutt."

"I can see the problem." Denan nodded, still thinking. "From a Hutt's perspective, waiting until a human dies of old age isn't that big of a deal. He may just stay sealed up in his clan's palaces for decades."

"Or at least until he's finally willing to pay the credits to get a bounty hunter good enough to take me down." Jerin added. "Which, after the heist I just pulled off, he may finally be ready to do."

"Glad we could be of help." Jerin looked up in surprise to see Joona and one of the Zeltrons standing no more than ten feet away. He hadn't seen them approach, but then, he had been a bit lost in thought. Joona was now dressed in a white shirt with sleeves that ended mid-forearm, purple pants that ended mid-calf, plus a new white headdress. The clothes were probably a bit warm for the climate, but he didn't blame her for wanting to cover up, now that she had the option. "And, sorry to hear about... Well, everything." Joona added.

"What I don't understand..." Denan began slowly. "Is why he took such extreme measures to respond to what should have been a fairly minor blow to his pride. Especially when you'd made the effort to try to make it up to him."

"I've been wondering about that for the last four years." Jerin admitted. "It really doesn't make much sense. I thought he might have somehow realized I was Force-sensitive before I figured it out myself, and wanted to eliminate me because of that. But even in that case, you'd think a Force-using Mandalorian would be regarded as a valuable asset by a Hutt."

"You'd be regarded as a valuable asset by anyone." Denan shrugged. "Until we see some compelling evidence to the contrary, it seems like Gadran doesn't care about money as much as his pride, and is also extremely thin-skinned. Not desirable traits for a member of a species that considers success in business to be their most important virtue." Now he turned toward Jerin. "Did you really not have any idea you were Force-sensitive until that moment?"

"Well..." Jerin seemed like he wasn't sure how to answer that question. "I guess I'd always been pretty lucky, and a great shot, even by Mando'ade standards. But I'd never thought I actually had Jedi-level abilities until that moment. I suppose I'd just never been in that dire of a situation before, or my powers might have shown themselves earlier."

"Did you ever think about joining the Jedi?" The Zeltron with Joona asked. Jerin tried to recall if he'd heard her name yet or not, and decided he hadn't.

"Not seriously. I'm sure they could teach me how to use my powers faster and more effectively than I've been teaching myself, but I know they wouldn't approve of my mission of revenge. Plus, given that I first discovered my powers by going on a murderous rampage, they'd probably want me to undergo extensive 're-education' before they taught me anything useful." A small smile appeared on Jerin's face at that. "Besides, my people have a long, bitter history with the Jedi, dating all the way back to when we sided with Ulic Qel-Droma during the Sith War. Which was an idiotic decision by the way, but the Jedi have never been able to let it go."

"Your people did almost conquer the galaxy not long after that, using incredibly brutal tactics." Denan reminded him, sounding as polite as possible while saying such a thing. "Plus, Order 66 probably didn't help matters any."

"Fair enough." Jerin admitted. "I'm just saying, I have no desire to subject myself to the kind of rigorous self-discipline Jedi training would require, and the Jedi probably wouldn't be real eager to have me anyway." Now Jerin stretched, then stood up. "All right, let's start rounding everyone up, and head back to the ship."

"We have been here a while, haven't we?" Joona realized, sounding a little guilty.

"Oh well. Since no one's shown up to bother us here, they're probably planning something when we get back into space. But now, the Justice is completely reloaded, and there's no way Korgo can have gotten his Vic operational again this fast, so I don't see the bad guys stopping us before I can get you to safety."

"Not to be insulting or anything..." Denan started tentatively. "But what if the bad guys have some other friends we don't know about?"

Jerin just smiled in response. "I've got a great ship, the Force is with me, and I've got a lot of people to protect. Right now, there's not a warrior in this galaxy more dangerous than I am."

.

"Why not revenge?! When someone close to you is killed and you know who's behind it, how can there be anything more important to you than revenge? If that's being an adult, THEN I'M NEVER GROWING UP!" - Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist

.

(Nanaki's note: Today, I want to tackle those inconsistencies in descriptions of the Sith species that I mentioned before. In both Book of Sith and the Lost Tribe of the Sith short stories, the Sith are described as having "facial tentacles", which on first glance, is understandable. Once we give it even a moment's thought though, it seems pretty ridiculous. Quarren have facial tentacles. Sith have facial spikes that originate in their cheekbones. Even if they were tentacles, they'd be way too short to actually grasp food and move it to the mouth, which would be the main reason a species would have facial tentacles in the first place. True, the tentacles could be vestigial, as with a Zabrak's head horns, but if logic alone isn't enough, there's another strong piece of evidence in Sek'nos Rath. Sek'nos is clearly eager to be a Je'daii of action, always up for a fight, even when he has no real chance of winning. In other words, Sek'nos gets hit a lot, and does his fair share of flying through the air. If those were tentacles on his face, we'd see them flying around every which way. Instead, they never move.

Also, those same two sources describe Massassi as being at least a somewhat separate species from true Sith. This one is easy to explain away in-universe, however. Some ancient Sith Lords were fond of using the dark side to literally mutate life forms. Given that, it's not surprising that some of them might have tried the process on their own soldiers, while others who had at least a tiny iota of respect for their loyal servants did not. At any rate, we're now getting close to a part of the story I'm looking forward to writing quite a bit, so expect more chapters soon.

Edit on 1/2/17: I never actually got around to playing The Old Republic MMO, not due to a lack of interest, but rather due to a lack of time, and especially due to a complete lack of anything resembling high speed internet access where I live. However, I recently picked up a used copy of DK's Old Republic Encyclopedia, and saw that some Sith purebloods in that game have both facial spikes AND facial tendrils. Thanks, BioWare, for making me sound like an idiot. I'm going to wiggle out of this one by pointing out that Sith "purebloods" are actually hybrids with a fair amount of human blood as well, while genuinely pure Sith like Sek'nos Rath don't exhibit this trait.)