Author Note: Yo thanks for reading the new chapter! Remember to follow, favorite and review. It's gives me motivation and lets me know what I am doing right with the fic. Also, if you leave a review I will respond to it in the next chapter! Thanks again for reading this story and have a wonderful and awesome day!
- Chapter 3 -
Ben whisked the smoke free from his lips as the tree crumpled along the ashen floor, spraying the boy with fresh soot as the boy began to approach. His footsteps muffled by the drops of ash as he observed the tree for impurities.
His gloved hands running along the trunk and over the base as the boy crouched down. He spat out the smoke as the smoke clouded free his mouth. Even as Ben observed the tree, he could feel it. Ever since the bar something has slowly been rising along the island.
He could hear it, the way the other workers would bicker and argue about the fire nation. Even Though, more importantly he could feel it…through the force. Ben quickly shook the thought out of his head as he began to try and return to work.
Even after cutting himself off from the force…even after all these years. It was still yapping at him, like a rabid mutt the feeling would dig into his left thigh, painful and unwanted. Ben would only grit his teeth and just smoke more or drink harder when the feeling would come at him.
Ever since that day the recruiters were thrown out of the bar. The revolutionaries have slowly been taking a more proactive stand against the fire nation. Stands…riots…even some guards were sent to the infirmary due to getting beat during ambushes.
Ben couldn't say that he felt bad for the fire nation. They were merely conquerors and slavers, just like the Mandalorians. Ben could feel his lips curl into a smile at that thought. The feeling of smashing their heads into the dirt, ripping them limb from limb…letting the spray of blood revitalize yourself.
"Stop…" He grinded out the words at the unwanted thoughts. His eyes filled once again with sorrow and guilt, trying to push away the darker memories of his past. Even now those feelings of the dark side would sometimes leak in. He felt it when he lashed out with the force to suffocate Rin. He felt it once again when the crowd thrived off the dark side energy, he secreted.
He felt it when he launched himself off the bar stool. The tendrils of force lightning that burnt along the cloth of his chair.
Ben's nose tilted as he stuck his head into the air. He knew that the force was in all living things, and that the force in force sensitives like himself made certain senses stronger. He saw this when he was younger with his reaction time.
When he was in the academy on Dantooine he was a horrible force wielder, but his skills with a lightsaber was unmatched for his age. As time passed, he grown to accept that he couldn't use the force like the way his peers used it, that was before he learned the truth. Though, Ben couldn't pay attention to the bitter memories. Not now…
He could smell…smoke? Ben's eyes narrowed as he dropped the axe to the floor. His feet moving on his own as he felt something through the force, a strange feeling…familiar in a weird sense. His boots clumping into the ash like freshly dropped snow as he began to run towards the town.
"No…they wouldn't…" He gasped out. His free-flowing hair fighting against the wind as he began to run. He knew that his connection was incomplete, that he had chosen to abandon the force, though the force wished to not give up on him.
He could feel it…pain…
Ben knew that the fire nation was evil. He heard tales of their exploits. There prison camps, there colonies and their conquest. He also heard tales of how they would destroy villages to teach the villagers a lesson.
He never believed that last part, a place like the fire nation wouldn't be dumb enough to just randomly destroy a whole colony/village for the sole reason of disrespect. But as Ben began to run through the destroyed oak and fields of ash.
"God damn it!"
It was so close. His eyes opened, his irises dilating as he stared into nothingness. To the average person it would appear that Ben just stopped out of nowhere due to the shock of the situation. That his body refused to utter any movements due to fear or stress.
Though it was the force flowing through him, He could see it…the fire nation soldiers. He could hear the way they clamped along the dirt streets of the colony; he could see the glare of the sun reflect off of their iron visors.
Ben's eyes widened as he realized the answer. 'A force vision!' Sometimes some force sensitives would be plagued by such things. The vision was so powerful that he could even smell the burning buildings, even the flesh getting baked.
'Flesh getting baked?' Ben's eyes widened once again. He could see corpses decorate the streets, the fire piercing through the people's clothes. He could see a building collapsed in on itself due to the raging fires. A lone figure placed underneath a wooden beam. Ben already knew who it was.
"Bill!" Ben's eyes returned to normal. His legs pounding quicker along the ashen road as he felt the force flow through his core. Though, as Ben broke through the forest line. The line where the ash stopped and the dirt road began back to town, Ben realized something.
The fire nation from the vision were not interested in taking prisoners. This was murder…a slaughter of all the occupants of the island. Maybe the threat of revolution got so bad to the point where the fire nation wanted to eliminate all of them?
Ben stopped running until he fell into a measly walk, his eyes scanning the trees as he began to walk off the path. If the fire nation was killing others, this was another war. Ben's eyes traced along the trees trying to find the sign.
It took a couple of minutes, but his gloved hands glossed over. Faint cuts from an axe, dented into a tree. Small enough to catch the eye, though only if one was looking for it. Ben dropped to his knees in front of the tree, the upturned dirt with barely any shrubbery growing over it.
Ben didn't have a shovel. So, he opted out for the next best thing…his hands. His gloved hands made their way through the dirt. Throwing them to the sides as he began to rush through it. His hands combing through the earth.
It didn't take long…
He felt the tension of plasteel along his fingertips, he could see the red outlines of the box along the dirt. His fingers looped along the buckles of the box as he ripped it free from the earth's grasp. Planting it alongside the hole he had created.
Ben inched closer to the box. The blanket of dirt covering it completely, his gloved hands wiping through the remaining dirt. The insignia of the box clear to see, pellets of brown dirt now removed. Ben's right hand outstretched over it, his fingers carefully glossing over the emblem. Like a painter trying to not press the brush to hard in fear of ruining the painting.
The insignia…of Revan's Sith Empire. Ben's fingers shakingly made their way over the latches of the crate. His breathing hitched as his fingers felt clammy, his eyes shaking and scanning solely on the box. It felt like eternity until he unlatched the golden clamps.
As the gears of the box grinded it open. Ben's fingers began to search along the box. His hands connecting with the strange fabric outlier. Onderonian red silk covered the insides of it. It felt familiar…the call of home.
After him and the jedi crusaders helped the onderonians royals with the Mandalorian threat. The royal family gifted each Jedi with such things for their accomplishments. It was a weapon that radiated power, strange for a blaster. It was of Mandalorian design, strangely created out of Onderonian gold.
The one who once wielded this blaster must have had been vain. Ben didn't realize it being an apprentice of twelve or thirteen. Though, he could feel it…power. Ancient power, power that the Jedi would have had never allowed him to wield.
Maybe due to being shellshocked from the recent battle or feeling the tint of death along the force and from his lightsaber. Maybe he didn't realize the darkness that surrounded that weapon, though it didn't stop him from using it.
Through all the battles of the Mandalorian wars…and the Jedi Civil war. That blaster had ended the lives of many Mandalorians…and many Jedi and Sith. He could feel it in the pores of his body, of the dreams he had.
Of the face he refused to look at in the mirror, he could remember the exhilaration of cutting the Mandalorians down with his double-bladed lightsaber, the humming of the twin blades. The kick of the blaster as the bronze bolt would rip through his enemies.
The feeling of happiness…the bloodlust that would further pump more adrenaline through his veins. Maybe, that was it. The feeling of cutting down the Mandalorian threat, labeling them as the true monsters of this story, though could he had used that same excuse against the Jedi?
Maybe this was just him…he wasn't a jedi. Maybe he was a monster…a conqueror…a slaver…a murderer. Maybe he enjoyed killing, though he already knew a solid truth in this world.
'If you take out a debt, it's only a matter of time before someone comes collecting.'
The dreams…the nightmares…the guilt and paranoia. To Ben, they were just his sins catching up to him. It wouldn't be long before the death that has long hounded him shall eventually follow, either by another's hand…or by his own. There were days where it would get too rough, where the light would be far too dim.
Maybe that's why he kept the blaster out all the way here. Though, it was still here. He vowed never to take another's life and resigned himself from war, so what was the purpose of having a weapon? Ten minutes away from his apartment, if everything just got too out of control and Ben couldn't do it anymore…
What was driving him anymore? He held no allegiances, no enemies…he renounced war and conflict, ensnaring himself with the life of a drunk. Waging war against the past, but one can never win such a war.
Maybe it was the self-loathing that squirms within him that provides a curious strength. His spirit as diseased as it is, refuses to allow himself to give up. No matter what threats he faces… and whatever wreckage he leaves behind.
Though, this wasn't the time for such thoughts. Ben looped his hand along the blaster. For a weapon made of ornate design it was strikingly effective. He pulled out the light brown bandoleer, putting the holster against his right thigh as he strapped it properly.
He embarked down onto that path. The town getting closer and closer into view, but the first thing Ben noticed was the heat. It was so intense that it stung his eyes shut, like getting hit in the face by a star fighter.
He scanned the building of the colony. The apartment complexes that would drearily blend together were constructed out of wood and stone. Some of the buildings collapsing on top of one another, the distinct smell of ash and flame clinging to him
The smoke was borderline touching the sun. Though, it wasn't the fires or the destruction that caught his attention. The streets were lined with people, there clothes in tatters as their bodies were crumpled along the roads.
Their skin were horrifically burnt to a crisp, the black outlines visible to see. For some corpses the fire nearly enveloped them. Ben stood in the center of the street, his footsteps clamping along the dirt path as his eyes observed the colonist.
They were butchered…Ben was disturbed but he had already seen such cruelties before during the wars. That part of him also scared him, how in such chaos and in such cruelties that he would have the strength to keep on moving forward. A normal person would have had thrown up, some maybe even had cried from the loss of life.
Though, Ben just walked away. Solely moving forward, he knew that he was broken, that the innocence he once had was stripped away from him due to the Mandalorian Wars and that part of him will forever be broken. Until he stopped in front of the bar, or rather what remained of it.
Ben coughed into his fist as he made his way through the destroyed bar. The ceiling caved in on itself, and the only thing still standing was two out of the four walls, the chairs and cheap booze decorated the floor.
Though, it took Ben another second until he realize who was there. "Bill!" He screamed as he made his way towards the old man. He kneeled as he began to observe what was happening, he couldn't panic right now.
Bill was pinned down under debris. The old man's bearded head leaking strands of crimson as his eyes began to part open. Ben was already overhead, kneeling as he tried to lift the beam. "Benji…"
"Don't worry old man." Benjamin cocked his head back. His muscles tensing as he braced his legs into position, though the beam was hardly budging. "I'll get you out of this!"
Bill's head slammed into the wooden floor. One eye closed from the blood going into it, as the other stood half open. His left hand, the only hand not stuck underneath the rubble. "Ben…run."
Ben's eyes went to the old man's own. Ben shook his head, there was no point for such an answer. Ben had been running for years, from everything. Guilt…regret…fear…he was already running, but now he decided to hold his ground.
"There slaughtering all of us, the revolutionaries acted too soon. Damn fools…" Bill's eyes went towards the sky. His hand reaching towards the mid-morning sun set. "Damn fools…should've known better than killing a fire nation generals' son."
That was when it all came together for Ben, and he finally understood what happened. After everything occurred in the bar, whether it was the dark side energy at play or it was simply the hearts of the revolutionaries calling for blood, a fire nation generals' son was killed.
Killing a citizen of the fire nation was a major crime that would lead to one's execution. Though, killing a noble's son was a different crime in general. That was why they were getting purged, solely for revenge.
Ben could hear the pounding of footsteps approach. No…he couldn't. They were too far away, the fire nation guards were stepping over corpses, there iron visors hiding behind there expressions.
'Did they even care? Do they even realized what they have done…they killed innocents? Murdered them all, they exterminated them!'
Ben's eyes widened…Malachor V, the mass shadow generator. The weapon that won the war…ten million Mandalorian ships, the whole Mandalorian race being destroyed in a second. Mandalorian and Jedi ships still float along that dead world.
Ben could feel it. Guilt…squirming inside of him like a hungry rat, feasting along anything it can find within his soul. Though, Ben didn't allow it. His hatred and anger surged through him. His feelings…his passion sending waves of hate and anger spewing from the destruction.
His breathing began to distort. The wooden fragments, the destroyed chairs began to hover…some even began to be crushed from the pressure the dark jedi exhausted. Bill's lone eye wandered, the boy's left-hand crackling with electricity, dark purple sparks forming along his fingers. The tendrils so erratic that they were nearly jutting out.
'The Mandalorians got what they fucking deserved…I am glad that I got to see it. We are nothing alike, I did what Meetra failed to do and exterminated them. I am proud…that I was the one that destroyed them. Millions of ships on fire, all those that followed Mandalore were wiped out…all those wiped out in one second. I watched it happen…I MADE IT HAPPEN!'
The death and suffering caused here on the colony. Ben could feel it…no not just from today. From the many years the colonist had been working here, the years spent toiling on land that used to be theirs. The years and years of hatred that began to bloom like a flower sprouted from hate and rage.
It fueled him…it rejuvenated his body. Though, it was still there. Words cupped from years past…from a person that he wanted to forget, the words that saved him…the words that reminded him of what he once was.
"You are…free. Your destiny, your path…is yours to forge. Whether light or dark, know this…Jedi or Sith…Hero or Conqueror…Crusader or Villain…I give you this gift exile."
Ben's fist began to untwine. The anger leaving him as he heard the thumping of objects clatter along the floor as all that remained now…was guilt.
He owed that person his life…they saved him from himself. He owes them, to at least make that decision of who he wants to become when he is ready. Both mentally and emotionally ready to decide who he was.
Though, right now was not the time. It was time to deal with the waves of fire nation soldiers slowly. Ben's right hand pulled out the blaster from his holster, the weapon resting comfortably in his own hand.
'My breathing stilled as I gazed down it. My left index finger, slowly placing the blaster on stun. "Don't want any more added to the body count, right?" A shudder ran through my body from the poorly timed joke. The words did not do anything for me. A false promise, what is a few more bodies for a murderer like myself. A butcher, I am no Jedi.'
Ben's thoughts slammed into his core. His feet paced to the outside as he walked into the middle of the street. Close enough to see the fire nation soldiers break through the cloud of smoke. There red robes blended with their iron armor.
Ben leveled the weapon in front of him. The kick of the blaster shocked him and for a second felt unfamiliar, the stun bolt struck the fire nation soldier in his face. His form slamming into the street as Ben's aim went to the next guard.
This one was quicker. The guard dropping into a combat stance, his bending throwing off a projected fireball towards the boy. Though, the bender didn't have what the exile had. Force sensitivity…
The boy dodged the fireball. Leaping away from the other barrages as he quickly shot from his hip. With the precognition of the force flowing through him, his shots rarely even missed.
Though, as he pulled the trigger, the once lively bronze bolts stopped firing from its golden barrel. "Shit!" Ben screamed. The gun overheated, it's been a while ever since he cleaned or oiled up the blaster.
The blaster even though it was old and held a strange ornate design…it was still very powerful and reliable. The simmering barrel was placed back into Ben's holster as his eyes widened, a blast of heat nearly slamming him in his face.
Though right before. His hands looped along the edges of one of the bar chairs. His fingers digging into the wood as he threw it over his shoulder. The well-placed fireball which would have had erupted along his face was instead blocked by the thrown chair.
The fire ball was still strong. Exploding the chair into tendrils of wood, splintering all over Ben like a flock of snakes.
Ben fell to the floor in a steady roll. His legs and arm flailing around from the explosion knocking him over. "Motherfucker!" He screamed out; his eyes connected to his bleeding wound.
His left arm was filled with tendrils of wooden chips, two of the larger pieces breaking through his jacket and implanting themselves into his skin like wooden arrows, some even visible to see from the other side of his flesh. The pain shotting through his body as spit flew free from his mouth.
'Fucking…shit!' He thought. His good hand ripping off his belt, he slammed it along his left arm so hard he could feel the hairs stand straight up as he wrapped it along his left arm, the makeshift torniquet stopping the profuse bleeding.
His eyes…they felt wobbly. Like he was grabbed by a kath hound and took a three-hour joy ride within its jaw. His head banging and ears ringing like a shockwave from where he hit his head.
The soldiers were now starting to slowly surround him. Ben could feel it, there emotions. Uneasiness…worry…fear. They feared him…the boy being of either fifteen or sixteen taking out their men with that strange weapon.
Even being able to stop a fireball midflight with a well-placed throw. Instead of dodging opting out for a near death maneuver that could of gotten him killed.
Ben's spit flew free from his mouth as his free hand went to his blaster. The barrel still smoldering hot to the point Ben quickly drew his fingers away from it. 'Damn it…what now?' Ben thought as he observed the squadron of fire nation warriors approaching.
He tried to think of a plan…anything. 'I abandoned the force fully…those times I acted on emotion don't count. Even if I established a connection to the force and used the dark side or took any lives…that could very well send me back onto that path which I escaped from. Maybe if I drag Bill…No, that wouldn't work. There already so close and there is no way to get that thing off of Bill…but maybe if I…'
"No!" Ben shouted. His thoughts silencing at the very command as he watched the gleam of fire reflect off the fire nation iron mask. "I refuse…I reject that desire…"
He wouldn't leave Bill behind. If this was it then this was it, if he was going to die here he would die fighting, he would die on his feet. Ben's eyes scanned the area, his eyes widening as he glossed over a body on the floor.
Bright yellow curls, and a young face. The boy that he stopped the recruiter from taking was right there. His corpse in the middle of the road. Ben's chest heaved, his two feet forcing himself up as his vision was still seeing doubles.
'A kid…he was maybe thirteen years old. This was an extermination…did I forget? They were killing everyone here on this colony for resistance against the fire nation. They even killed the woman and children…' Ben's breathing rose as his heart began to pump and fuel with adrenaline, the pain in his arm starting too slowly numb. Even with his double vision…he could still see. He could see them like objects, there true area and their numbers visible like white highlights.
It was like a whisper…or a beat of a heartbeat, or the warmth of the sun without the glare. The power soared through him as he struggled to even breath, the smoke clouding his lungs.
'I was a fool…the biggest fool, to let them have mercy. They are animals the fire nation, each one of them. There just like the Mandalorians, taking prisoners and slaves…slaughtering innocents. The only solution to deal with the fire nation is the same with the Mandalorians…EXTERMINATION!'
The death…the destruction…the fear…the horror…and the regret. The island secreted it all from the lives snuffed far too early in this world. The Jedi would have had forbid Ben to take in the pain, to avoid it to shun it out.
Though, they were gone…exterminated during the jedi civil war due to their weakness. He was far more than an apprentice, and he rejected their desire.
Rage exploded from inside Ben. A burst of fiery passion rid him free of exhaustion and fatigue. The dark side numbing the pain in his arm, and the hate recentering himself on the enemies ahead. His body felt strong and his mind free.
His right hand rested in front of him. A powerful wave of dark side energy welling in his right hand, the fire nation soldiers felt it. Instinct, telling them to run away or to hide, but it was far too late.
The wave of dark side force energy ripped through their ranks. Their bodies flung away as the powerful wave even was able to uplift a massive chunk of the dirt road, there weapons clamored to the floor as a resounding echo flew through the destroyed town.
Ben's knee collapsed to the floor. His breathing hard and course as he felt the sting of his dry throat along the smoke. He could feel it, the ensuing waves that were still coming. They wouldn't have stopped until the old man was dead, and the boy followed.
'At least, I fought. At least I had the courage to fight back and not run away again.' Ben thought, his eyes starting to softly close, his senses fading as he felt the force flow through him once again. Instead of the dark side it felt…strange. 'Because I fell…because I killed Jedi. Can I still become one with the force…or shall I simply become a husk in the spirit world, became a dark side remnant?'
A blast of air…
Ben's form once again collapsed to the floor. His eyes parting open as he felt the blast of heat dimmer as the boy could only watch. A young boy, maybe of thirteen or fourteen of age. He wore dark brown and yellow robes, in his right hand a strange staff held as the blast of wind sent the fire nation soldiers approaching back.
Ben noted the strange blue arrow aligned over the boy's head. The boy turning towards Ben as Ben planted both of his hands on the floor. Pushing himself off into an upright position. Ben's form trembled, his breathing ragged.
'This is strange…I'm not dead. Also, I used the force before during the wars and I was never this exhausted. Is it possible that due to cutting myself off from the force, I will have to relearn certain things?'
"Are you…alright?"
The boy's voice shook through Ben's ears. The sudden noise causing him to grasp along his right ear as he quickly nodded his head. "Never better, got a bleeding arm and took out a couple of fire nation soldiers. A real splendid day." He sarcasticly spoke.
The boy pouted as he shook his head. "Alright…I'm the avatar and I need to know what happened here."
"What happened?" Ben's gaze went over the corpses. "The fucking fire nation killed the whole colony. Where were you!"
"Aren't you the avatar the defender of the weak. Where have you been?"
Ben shook his head. border lining even thinking of how stupid of a question it was currently. What was the point of placing blame or anything like that? "Come on!" Ben screamed, shaking the avatar from his daze from his sudden stupor.
Ben led the way as he pushed past the debris caused from the force wave. Bill still slumped under all that debris as his eye focused on Ben. "I saw what you did with the air there, nothing like the command with the force, but I need you to save him."
The avatar stared at Bill, dropping into a combat stance as he tried to bend the air around him. Though, the avatar couldn't. "The air is too thick, I'm sorry but I can't save him."
Ben's eyes furrowed. His eyes going back to the old man as he grasped along the wooden pillar that was pinning him down. If the avatar couldn't do it, then he'll save him. He didn't need someone that vanished over one hundred years ago, letting the world be controlled by this filth.
"Ben, it's okay…"
Ben turned towards the floor. The old man staring up at him with his good eye. Blood seeping from the lower corner of his mouth, his eye only parted slightly a small grin plastered across his face. "No…it's not okay. I won't leave you here old man. You saved me, gave me a place to call home…you even held onto my secret. I'll be damned if I leave you…"
"My son…would have had been around your age around this time. He was quiet like you, sarcastic and quick witted. Maybe that was why he tried to fight against the fire nation to early…" Tears began to leak from the old man, his hand grabbing onto Ben's leg. "I don't have the strength, Benjamin. Though, you do. This is your life…"
Ben let the pillar go. His own tears beginning to fall off his face as he took a knee near the old man. The avatar took a couple of steps back, his own eyes turned away from the exchange. "Benjamin…" The old man grudgingly spoke. He lifted his head up higher, the crimson blood radiated along with the fire.
"Your fifteen or sixteen. You can fight good; your reaction time is pinpoint…and you have a talent for finding such things that are lost in this world. You're a soldier, I can tell…I had my suspicions, but I knew that you didn't come from this world. Your sarcastic and like to push things off. You're a smooth talker, but I can tell how you like to hide things. How you try and redirect conversations to not talk about the hurt that is within you, I hear you at night. The screaming of nightmares…you drink to forget and smoke. You can't stay sane if you try to forget the past, you can't run away…"
His gaze went back towards the setting sun, the world dipped into a vibrant orange hue. "Months ago, or maybe it's been a year. I saw your ship cut through like an asteroid through the horizon, I didn't know what there was but I thought there would be something worthwhile. I never expected to find you… Afterwards, I realized how special you were. The powers you use aren't from here, and I can't comprehend. Though, Ben, I can feel them. Your hate…. your guilt…your rage."
Ben kneeled there. Motionless as he watched the old man speak, his eyes glued to his old friend as the old man kept on talking.
"I don't know what you are running away from…though running away in hopes of forgetting the past is impossible. I've tried it, we've all tried it here and now we're all gone. We will be forgotten in the end. The thing about hatred, son. Is that it's the place people go to when they can't face their guilt…there fear. Its rusted and dulled out…the weapon will be plunged deep within and used to conquer and destroy. Repeatedly, until it will eventually destroy you. The more you plunge it, the stronger you get…though, those you love and hope to protect will be damaged by it. Until there is nothing, but scrap."
"C'mon old man, can't believe you're wasting the time I can to get you out of here…how about this. I'll get you out and we can talk more with a nice bottle of…" Ben spoke, obviously jokingly. Trying to get out of this conversation, trying to cling onto the reality that he could still save his friend. Though, he was cut off.
"I don't blame you, Benjamin. You were only a child…what else could you have done then embrace hate. You were a soldier, don't destroy yourself when you have so much to live for. Guilt…it rolls through you. I'm sorry, but you must come to te…"
"You don't know…" Ben interrupted him. "You're going to die eventually. You have no regrets and lived the way you wanted to." Ben's sweat began to prickle down his brow. His eyes quivering and erratic, both wide open as his bloodied hand went to grasp along the corners of his face, his palm outstretched. "How can anyone…any human…any person…no one in the world…no, in this universe can ever understand. There was no other option. The Mandalorians were slaughtering us in the millions…Master Surik couldn't activate it. This was the final battle, if we lost then the Mandalorians would have had concurred the republic. I didn't have an option, if Surrik couldn't activate the mass shadow generator then who could of! They died…I felt it through the force…nothing was left…suddenly there lives were snuffed out like bugs. Without understanding of anything!"
"We were all so young, the survivors would join Revan, but we couldn't forget. They could have had done something if they had lived, why did I have to live. The Mandalorians, it was their fault…I watched it happen, I MADE IT HAPPEN? Me or them…there was no other option!"
Ben's breathing was ragged. His chest rising up and down, dry tears touched his face. Both from the smoke hurting his eyes and from the pain the past caused him. "Benjamin, I know that you aren't my son. Though, wouldn't it be easier to run away from war, from hate?"
"If you intend to use your power…please Ben…use it…for good…"
Ben's eyes widened from the words. How could he use these powers…these powers that had caused him such pain and heartache? He didn't want this gift of the force; he didn't want this life. All he wanted was a quiet place to live, a life free of war.
Though, Ben could feel them. More fire nation soldiers approaching, Ben could feel there hostile auras spread along the island. They must have had not heard back from the prior squadron Ben put down. So, they were sending everything they had.
Bill smirked as he realized that Ben knew that it was time. "It's alright Ben, I think I've lived long enough." Before Ben could turn to protest his eyes went to the avatar. "Mister Avatar, take him far away from here…he's like a son to me."
"Bill!"
Though, Ben was too exhausted. His limbs ached from the pains and bruises of the fire nation fireball, and his connection to the force was strained thin from the years of trying to cut it off and finally his bleeding wound made it harder for him to concentrate.
The avatar looped his arm along Ben's waist. A blast of powerful wind shot them through the air, Ben's hand trained in front of him. His eyes getting cut up from the wind. Bill's own form being swallowed by the earth itself, a faint smile as he began to lose sight of the old man.
"Goodbye…Benjamin."