A/N: Decided to start posting my stories here as well as on AO3, so here's the first SWTOR fic I wrote, over a year ago. I've definitely improved since then, but I'm still very fond of this and other earlier fics. There'll be more to come with Caspian and Scourge!
The Price of Mercy
"That was a foolish decision," says Scourge critically, watching as Master Kiwiiks slowly makes her way out of the wreckage of the star cruiser.
Stowing his lightsaber on his belt again, Caspian frowns at the Sith.
"You saw her. If I send her out into the field again the only thing she'll accomplish is getting herself killed."
"Allowing her to stay behind is futile," ripostes Scourge. "I remind you, we have a single goal - to prevent the Emperor from enacting his plans. In the face of that, one life - a dozen lives, a hundred, a thousand - they do not matter." He gestures towards the corpses nearby. "You have seen how many Sith are being sent here. Every Jedi fighting this battle raises our chances of success. If we fail, it will be of little consequence that you spared your fellow this time. She will die just as inevitably amongst the wounded as she will on the front lines."
"So I should just order her out there again, knowing all she's doing is dying for a few extra moments?" Anger stirs inside Cas, restless, unsettled. If only the Council knew how often it was surfacing these days, perhaps they might have reconsidered this assignment.
"Yes," Scourge answers, calm as ever. "A few moments could be the weight that tips the scales in our favour."
Cas' jaw tightens. "How is that any better than the Empire? Than the Sith?" he demands. His shoulders lift, then drop again with a loud breath before he continues, "Scourge, you're the one who's always telling me I shouldn't be anybody's puppet. I can't do that and then just turn around and start being the one controlling the lives around me."
Scourge shrugs, spreads a hand. It's a gesture that Cas has come to recognise as far more stubborn than it appears, and inevitably leads to teeth-grinding. "Better to be pulling the strings than letting your potential wither away under the orders of someone weaker. Even your Council can recognise this. Is that not why they put you in command here? To control the Jedi forces on Corellia?"
Cas grinds his teeth together. He swipes a hand back through his silver hair where it's come undone after the fight with the Sith assassins.
"Yes, but - not to simply hurl them to their deaths!" he retorts. He glances around, his eyes hovering over the black-robed bodies, sprawled and still warm on the durasteel floor. "Stopping the Emperor isn't going to mean a thing if we all die trying to make it happen! We end up in the same place just as if he'd done it himself!"
"No. The Emperor would still be denied the power he seeks -"
"Oh, so it's fine if we all die, so long as we're not sacrificed to some insane dark side ritual that'll fuel him." He can't keep the sardonic twist from his voice, or the slightly grotesque parody of a laugh that follows.
There is a pause, but even in silence Cas feels his neck prickle beneath the weight of Scourge's unrelenting scrutiny.
"You are young, Caspian, and still shackled by the narrow views of your order," says Scourge then, almost patiently. (It's easy to be patient, thinks Cas, after three hundred years of it.) "You are losing perspective -"
"No, Scourge, you know what - I think you're the one losing perspective." Cas rounds on him again, glares at him, jabs a finger into Scourge's chest. It rebounds off his metal chestplate, but it's still hard enough to bring the faintest twitch of surprise to the Sith's impassive face as Cas continues emphatically, "The point is to save the galaxy. To stop billions of innocent people from being murdered. The Emperor's trying to commit genocide and I am not going to make it easier for him by killing my own people."
"You make it easier for him each time you hold yourself back. Each time you make a decision to coddle a single life instead of striking for the greater good." Scourge straightens himself as he stares down at Cas, as though he doesn't already have an intimidating advantage in that department. His tone is sharper now, rebuking, yet still infuriatingly even as he goes on.
"Compassion, mercy - you have shown me that these traits can be useful, even admirable, under the right circumstances. But they have no place in the fight against the Emperor. He will exploit these weaknesses - he expects them. If we are to succeed, you must not fall to his expectations."
Cas is too surprised by the first part of this to do anything but flounder. It takes him several moments to gather his senses again; he gives a brusque shake of his head, trying to get a hold of his roiling emotions.
"I don't want to fight with you about this, Scourge, not now. We've got enough on our plates here." He turns to head for the exit, but Scourge's next comment brings him up short after only a few steps.
"That is understandable. You are already too busy fighting with yourself."
Cas blinks, and his brow knits as a feeling of disquiet rises within him. He directs a look back over his shoulder. "…what are you talking about?" he ventures carefully.
"You think I haven't noticed? That I haven't seen what you are doing?" Scourge tilts his head, a movement that echoes a predator assessing his prey. It's not altogether comfortable - and not altogether off-putting.
Cas swallows. "Go on, then. What am I doing that's got you so attentive?" he prompts, slightly brusque.
Scourge closes in. "Listen to me, Caspian," he urges, and Cas turns towards him again, automatically. In spite of all their differences, he can't help but want to listen whenever the Sith speaks. There's an allure in the way Scourge seems to taste each word as he utters it, the sounds precise yet just alien enough to catch the listener off guard.
"The Emperor held you in his sway, and that is not something easily cast aside." Scourge's voice is lower now, intent. It makes Cas' neck prickle again, and his gut flurry. "You are still touched by the dark side, even now. You can feel the whisper of it crawling through your very core. And every day I see you struggling against it. You go to such great lengths to spurn it - to the detriment of your own purpose. You weigh your actions down with mercy, with light, simply to defy the dark, never stopping to consider if you are truly making the right choice."
Cas stares at him, and his face scrunches as he tries to process Scourge's point. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demands, attempting to ignore the unease coiling through him. "Look, you may see showing compassion and sparing someone's life as weakness, but the Jedi don't. Jedi give people a second chance, they do not murder the helpless -"
"And what about you?" Scourge interrupts.
"What - what about me?" Cas is taken aback. "I'm a Jedi, remember?"
"And as a Jedi, did you agree with the foolish plan your fellows conceived, to capture and redeem the Emperor, rather than killing him?" Scourge is relentless, each word like a strike of his saber, driving Cas back step by step from his position of security. "If the Emperor were here before you, defeated, helpless, at your mercy - would you spare him, as well?"
Cas opens his mouth, then - stops. Stares. Stricken by hidden doubts that have been abruptly dredged to the surface. He still has few memories of his time as the Emperor's pawn, but he knows - as Scourge evidently does - that the taint of it runs far deeper than he cares to face.
"The Emperor… is a special case," he manages to push out, hoarsely, after a very lengthy pause.
"One you will have to deal with." Scourge reins himself in, folding his arms matter-of-factly. "Whether you wish it or not, the time will come when you must face him again. I suggest you decide what you will do, before that moment arrives."
Cas is breathing very shallowly now, and feeling horribly exposed. Scourge's red eyes keep him pinned there for a few moments longer, and then the Sith rolls his shoulders in a brisk motion and looks away.
"We should go. We have lingered here too long." But he waits, as always, for Cas to take the lead.
It takes Cas a few moments, but he wrenches himself from his overshadowing thoughts and back to the present of battle-scarred Corellia. He shakes away the shiver that frolicks down his spine, and nods.
"Right. Let's get back to base and regroup. We've got a war to fight."
Scourge dips his head. "As you wish," he says.