Author's Note: Hello everyone, happy Thanksgiving first and foremost. I hope you all have a wonderful time surrounded by loved ones and the like. This chapter was one that I took extra time to make sure was up to standard so I hope it is to your liking. Enjoy!
Amidst the perilous spires of Ord Mantell City, Jedi Master Kyle Katarn has seen his new Jedi apprentice, Polina, taken by the clutches of the criminal underworld. Goro's Hand tightens its grip, ensnaring Polina and attempting to use Kyle for its sinister plots. As Kyle races against shadows to rescue her, Polina descends into a realm of despair...
The cacophony of anguish and despair, the relentless symphony of tormented souls, echoed through the sinister realm where Polina found herself. She recoiled in terror, her very essence quivering as she nestled within the frigid embrace of a steel cage. Her senses were engulfed by a suffocating dread, shrouded in the enigma of this grim incarceration, an abyss where hope had long abandoned its perch.
Within the confinements of her meager prison, there was scant room to move, leaving her clutching her own legs in a futile attempt to console her racing thoughts. She pondered, "What would Kyle do, what would a Jedi do?" Regret gnawed at her, for her inattentiveness and lack of focus had sealed her fate, perhaps forever. She feared she might never again feel the soothing caress of flowing river waters or bask in the warmth of temperate suns. She felt like a failure, she had failed in the most basic of tasks, failing her master and dooming any dreams of becoming a Jedi to oblivion.
"I am nothing," she whispered, tears falling silently, as the anguished chorus of her fellow captives reverberated around her. In the heart of this malevolent place, a wooden table served as a grim focal point, surrounded by figures all in varied attires and clearly armed, the obvious guards of this prison. They conversed animatedly, heedless of the desperate cries for mercy emanating from the multitude of incarcerated souls. At their table was an amalgamation of credits and other valuables they were using for their game, as well as a holoprojector emanating the image of a Twi'lek girl dancing exotically with music to accompany it.
"Release me from this wretched purgatory!" a large imprisoned Dowutin shrieked, his voice a desperate plea, as he assaulted the door of his cage. The subsequent violent impact caused the entire chamber to shudder and sway, as if the very fabric of their misery trembled in response.
"Rego," intoned one of the men seated at the table, his words dripping with casual indifference.
Comprehending the unspoken command, Rego, one of the guards of this place who wore a simple attire of dark pants, boots, a plain blue long shirt with a belt carrying several pockets and other gear nonchalantly cast his cards onto the table and rose with an irritated stretch, a palpable annoyance etched across his features.
"I'm out of creds anyway," Rego declared, seizing a lengthy metallic pole. He advanced towards the cage, where a ruckus of protests erupted from the imprisoned Dowutin, vehement in his defiance.
"You low-scums had better release me! You have no idea of the forces you're contending with! I am Gruner of the Constancia Council, and I shall see your heads laid out before me, relea-!" Gruner's tirade was abruptly halted by a surge of violet current coursing through his body. He convulsed in pain, collapsing to the ground, wisps of smoke rising from his singed garments.
"And I'm the Queen of Naboo," Rego retorted, sarcasm lacing his words. "Shut your damn chops. Your ransom should arrive soon, unless the Council deems you worthless." A smirk played on Rego's lips as he strolled leisurely past rows of cages, each containing unfortunate souls ensnared by the deceitful tendrils of the Goro Hand's abduction network.
"No force in this system or elsewhere will find you here," Rego proclaimed to the prisoners, punctuating his words by jabbing the tip of his electric staff into the damp ground, sending sparks flying and eliciting fear from the captives.
"You can only hope that your loved ones and whomever the bosses contact with the ransoms value you enough to pay, after that you'll be on your merry way out!"
Taunting each cage with the menacing threat of his staff, Rego finally halted at Polina's cage. The young girl cowered in the farthest corner, visibly frightened.
"Well, at least most of you have a way out. Can't say the same for you. But you'll fetch a good price with that slaver," Rego remarked with a twisted smile, before continuing his patrol. However, Polina noticed a detail—a door handler pad dangled from the man's belt, a slim, squared gray device adorned with buttons and attached to chains. Polina had seen similar ones in Jakku's markets; they had the power to open multiple doors simultaneously. She surmised that the one hanging from Rego's belt could potentially unlock not just her cage but others as well.
"Come on, Polina. Can't give up now," she whispered to herself, inching towards the main door. Her gaze fixed on the automated lock, then flickered to Rego as he continued his ominous circuit, toying with the frightened victims.
"Time to use it, use the Force!" Polina urged herself, newfound determination bubbling within her. She reached out with an open palm toward the door handler, desperately trying to channel the powers that Kyle so casually made use of. But her efforts yielded nothing. Trembling, she redoubled her efforts, yet the handler remained obstinately at Rego's belt. Rego, spotting her, approached with a scowl, clashing his staff onto the ground once more and unleashing sparks in her direction. A burning sensation on her exposed arm caused her to draw back in fear.
"Do that again, and I'll break your little arm!" Rego threatened, brandishing the electric staff. After a brief, tense moment, he scoffed and moved on to torment other captives.
Polina's heart raced, fear coursing through her. She wasn't Kyle; she couldn't wield the Force effortlessly. But she couldn't surrender; she had to try again, and again, her only glimmer of hope.
Once more, Polina crawled toward the door, closing her eyes. She sought to block out the cries for mercy, the sobs, the pain—everything within this wretched prison. Focusing on the tingling sensation in her chest, she zeroed in on the door handler dangling from Rego's belt. Chains jingled, metal clashed against cloth. Opening her hand this time, she reached out with her thoughts, every fiber of her being summoning the handler.
"Boys," a voice, loud and unmistakable, shattered Polina's concentration. Her gaze shifted, unable to discern the speaker as the various scoundrels turned their heads from their card game toward the door in the room's far corner. A solitary figure emerged from the shadows, prompting the men to rise, one of them switching off the holoprojector on the table, the rest standing at attention.
"Yes, boss!" a man spoke, a faint tremor in his voice betraying a sense of fear.
Goro revealed himself, stepping into the dim light. Despite his lean frame, his footsteps resonated heavily. The lights on the device protruding from his neck emitted an unmistakable and unsettling hue, accentuating his otherwise empty crimson eyes beneath the arrow pattern on his face. Goro surveyed the room briefly, arms concealed behind his coat, a hint of scrutiny in his demeanor.
"Is this the same batch?" he inquired.
"Yes, boss," a man affirmed. "We haven't moved any out yet. That slaver from Zygeria is still waiting at the han-"
"Forget him," Goro dismissed with a wave of his hand. The Sakiyan scrutinized the captives before fixing his gaze on Polina's cage. The girl met his gaze without flinching, and a smirk played across Goro's face.
"That one, bring her out."
Without hesitation, Rego approached Polina's cage, electro staff in hand. With a few button presses on the door handler from his belt, the cage opened with a beep. Rego signaled for Polina to exit, using his staff as a clear indicator to which Polina quickly obeyed and she soon found herself face to face with the towering Goro.
"Watch out for this one, boss. She's a trouble seeker," Rego sneered at Polina.
"I think I'll be quite fine," Goro responded with a dismissive scoff, directing his attention to the girl. "What is your name, young one?"
Polina remained silent, defiantly crossing her arms. She refused to reveal any fear; after all, she aspired to be a Jedi, and Jedi showed no fear even in the darkest of times.
"The boss is asking you a question," Rego prodded, activating his staff to release more violet sparks near Polina.
"Polina," she finally acquiesced.
Goro scratched his chin, momentarily impressed by the girl's attempted defiance. However, admiration was not his purpose.
"Come with me, Polina," the enigmatic Goro said, gesturing for her to follow. With little choice, she walked at a slow pace behind the long-coated Sakiyan. Rego continued to regard her with disdain before turning his attention to the other prisoners who all seemed to have been watching the scene with curiosity.
"What are you lot looking at!?" Rego barked at them, activating his staff. Polina could hear the screams of terror once more as she followed Goro, her skin crawling, and her heart heavy with impotence.
As they ascended stairs and traversed a long hallway, Polina fidgeted with her hands, torn between the impulse to confront Goro and the overpowering grip of fear and uncertainty.
"You have very good friends, Miss Polina," Goro remarked with an oddly sing-song tone, confusing Polina. "Be thankful for that. Not many people have that privilege." They turned a corner and approached a large metallic sliding door. Goro pressed a button on the device at his neck, and the door opened. As Polina caught a glimpse past Goro, her eyes widened.
"Kyle!" she exclaimed with evident joy, sprinting across the room and into the arms of her Jedi master. Kyle Katarn felt the force of her embrace, and despite the surprise, he welcomed her into a brief, tender reunion. Tears pressed against his neck as Polina clung to him.
"Sorry about taking so long, kid," Kyle said, patting her on the head. Tears flowed down Polina's rosy cheeks as she held onto her protector.
"You came for me, Kyle! You came for me!" she cried, her relief palpable. Kyle chuckled, "next time let's make sure you got a harness on," he said with a hint of jeast.
"Apologies for interrupting such a lovely reunion, Mr. Kyle," Goro interjected, approaching from the door, which closed behind him. "But I believe you and I have business to attend to now."
Kyle's gaze locked with the Sakiyan, a fleeting tension rising between them before the Jedi gently distanced himself from the still-distressed Polina. Rising to his feet, Kyle now towered over Goro, his stare a formidable force. Goro, however, seemed unfazed, surrounded by a cadre of armed henchmen ready to spring into action if the Jedi made a hostile move—though Goro doubted he would.
"I shall consider that look a 'thank you, Goro; yes, we do,'" Goro quipped, advancing past Kyle toward another set of stairs revealed by a sliding door.
"Stick close," Kyle instructed Polina, gripping her hand. "Don't wander off this time, got it?" he added sternly. Polina nodded.
Ascending more stairs, each floor unveiled a life of increasing comfort, evolving from simple relaxation rooms to pure luxury. As they ascended, they entered a vast and opulent reception area, filled with beings in presentable attire but bearing mean countenances, akin to Goro. Polina clung to Kyle, her grip tightening, while he surveyed the surroundings with caution.
Goro guided them past an open doorway marked by golden strings, entering a larger, even more lavish penthouse. A panoramic window displayed the city's night view, a bar occupied one corner, a holonet screen showcased programs in another, and a hexagon-shaped table with three individuals took center stage. Polina glanced at the table, reminiscent of the cage scene but now elevated in luxury.
"Wait here; I'll inform my boss of your arrival," Goro said to Kyle as he approached a large silver-plated door.
"Hold on a second," Kyle cautioned. "This was a matter between you and me, Goro. We talk now. I'm not waiting here for an ambush..." His hand hovered near his holster, the room's occupants glancing at the brewing tension.
"If I wanted you dead, it would've happened by now. I returned the girl in good faith. Don't insult my hospitality and wait. Jee-jee agree?" Goro sighed.
Left with little choice, Kyle withdrew his hand, raising it visibly in acknowledgment. Goro entered the room behind the silver door before Kyle could protest further.
"Why's his boss want to talk to you?" Polina asked, her curiosity tinged with concern.
Kyle hesitated, scanning the room and attempting to sense any danger. "I tracked you down. I had to make a deal so you wouldn't be harmed," he admitted. "But don't worry, we'll be out of here soon. I promise," he reassured her, though uncertainty lingered in his own mind.
As they stood and waited, the men at the hexagon-shaped table continued their card game, one of them leisurely smoking from a water pipe. The dim lighting cast shadows on the cards as the game unfolded.
"Hey, Goro's guy," one of the men called to Kyle, attempting to draw his attention.
"Come on, Goro's guy," the man insisted. "Like he said, if we wanted you riddled with blaster fire, it would've happened by now. Come over here. We're missing a fourth. Better than standing there like some schutta."
Kyle, still unsure, shifted his attention to the table. "Whatchu playing for?" he asked.
"We'll make it a friendly match for now. Come and sit..." the man replied, shuffling some cards.
Kyle approached, Polina walking with him.
"Kid can go watch the holonet. Don't worry, only appropriate channels," the three of them chuckled. Kyle glanced at Polina, giving her a small nod.
"Go, I'll keep watch on you."
"O-okay..." Polina said nervously as she moved to the other side of the room, where a promotional holonet program was playing.
"With Ohnaka Transport Solutions, your most valuable assets, be they of verified providence or otherwise, are all guaranteed to arrive at their desired destination. Our pilots are certified and trustworthy, and we have plenty of ships, as I, Hondo Ohnaka, always say, 'customer satisfaction will yield the best reactions,' only with Ohnaka Transport Solutions!"
Polina chuckled at the screen, settling down on the couch. Kyle kept a sharp eye on her while finally taking a seat across from the three shady individuals at the table. Neon lights cast a glow, creating shadows on the table.
"You can call me Kyle," he said with a confident smirk.
The player at the center shuffled the cards and dealt the first hand. "So, Kyle, you reckon you've got the skill for a game of Sabbac?" one of them sneered, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Let's find out," Kyle replied, narrowing his eyes as he examined his cards. The banter flowed along with the cards.
As the game progressed, Kyle engaged in casual conversation, probing for information. "So, you gentlemen heard about any Yuuzhan Vong meddling on the outer rim?" he asked, his tone seemingly casual.
A player chuckled, another glanced at Kyle with slight confusion while the other kept smoking from his pipe.
"Never heard about whatever that is," the player right across Kyle said as he looked through his own cards, "but I did hear that the 'Reformed' Republic finally broke apart just this last week, good riddance I'd say."
The men all snickered at the news, Kyle remaining silent as he looked at his cards. The news seemed to hit him with a mix of shock while not quite surprised at the revelation. At this point, it was all what he had come to expect, yet he also tried not to take whatever these people were saying at face value.
The casual game continued for only a few minutes before the silver-colored door opened up, Goro emerging. He looked over to Kyle.
"Kord wants a word now," he called out, interrupting the game.
The players exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. Kyle pushed back his chair, subtly indicating that the game was over for now.
"Polina," he called for the girl, who quickly rose from her seat and approached the Jedi master, standing next to him now in the blink of an eye.
"She stays with me," Kyle said to Goro, who merely had a blank expression as he gestured with his head for Kyle to enter.
Kyle stepped into the room, the air thick with the foreboding scent of danger. The atmosphere transformed into a darker, more sinister tone as both he and Polina ventured into a space that emanated authority and malevolence. The walls were draped in ominous shadows, and the concealed ventilation system hummed softly, contributing to the eerie background noise.
Seated on a raised platform at the room's center was Kord, a Harch mob boss infamous across the galaxy. Kyle had heard tales of these beings but had never encountered one in the flesh. Kord's large, spider-like form, adorned with grayish hair, occupied a massive chair that resembled a throne, its legs twisted into arachnid limbs. Crimson eyes gleamed in the dim light, assessing Kyle with predatory intelligence. Despite the absence of one arm, evidence of battles in the galaxy's underbelly, Kord exuded an undeniable air of authority and dominance.
His dark coat, adorned with intricate patterns, draped over his arachnid body, and his remaining arms boasted golden rings and ostentatious jewelry, symbols of wealth and power within the criminal underworld.
As Kyle approached, Polina lingered nervously behind him, her heart pounding with fear. Kord's henchmen, a diverse mix of humans, Weequay, and various other aliens, stood guard around their boss, creating an imposing presence. The room fell silent, interrupted only by the occasional creak of the throne's legs.
"You must be the one who tracked down one of my operations," Kord spoke with a voice seasoned by years of orchestrating illicit activities, punctuating his words with a distinctive clicking noise from his fanged mouth. His eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and menace as he observed Kyle.
"Kyle, isn't it?" Kord continued, his tone dripping with a blend of derision and interest, followed by a click. "If I have it correctly, you are a Jedi. What brings you into my domain?"
Maintaining a composed demeanor, Kyle met Kord's gaze. "I'm no Jedi," he replied with a firmness that resonated through the room. "Just a guy with a lightsaber and in need of some transport off-world."
Kord chuckled, the sound reverberating in the confined space. "Well then, we may just be in good business. I had not worked with one of your type for quite some time; I was under the impression you had been wiped out."
"You could say we've been busy…" Kyle said with a calm expression.
Leaning forward, a glint of delight in his eyes, Kord clicked and said, "Indeed. Now, let's discuss how you plan to settle this debt you have with my organization, since if I have it correctly, Goro here was very fair with you."
"I'd hardly call it a debt, a mere exchange," Kyle said, crossing his arms, showing no fear at Kord's attempt to extort him.
Releasing a few clicking noises, Kord caressed the fur around his jowls.
"Even if that were so, you find yourself under my discretion now," Kord said, followed by clicking.
Kyle chuckled, "I don't feel keen on a fight right now, Kord," he pronounced the name with sarcastic dignity.
"So how about we do this: Goro mentioned a job. You tell me what this job is about, and I just might be interested in helping you out. For a fee…"
Kord eyed the supposed non-Jedi for a moment, examining him with his pulsating three pairs of eyes. For a second, it seemed that the crime boss was displeased with Kyle's perceived indolence, but Kord's subtle chuckle followed by a bellow of laughter betrayed that appearance, for the most part.
"I do enjoy a good negotiation, but you're in no position to make demands," Kord stood up, his figure imposing.
"However, I do respect a fellow man of business," his mouth clicked once more as he took steps down from his chair and approached Kyle with a calm pace.
"I will keep it simple: a former associate of mine took something quite valuable from my organization. I need that back and him disposed of."
"Ah," Kyle smiled, "so liquidation huh. Can't any of your goons here do that?"
Kord tilted his head with amusement, "Perhaps, but I know this former associate is ready for me and my associates, and I much prefer the use of a man of your skill to take care of him. Recently we managed to locate him; he seems to have fetched himself a nice little home…"
Kyle's smile slowly began to fade as he listened to the crime boss' words. Kord then pulled out a holo-projector, activating it to reveal the blue image of a Gotal, none other than Senth, the farmer whom Kyle and Polina had met before. Though internally concerned, Kyle remained unfazed, looking to the projected image with a blank stare.
"This associate's name is Aresenthanel. He might be going by a different name now, but my sources recently located his possible location here…" Kord pressed a button at his wrist collar. A large screen activated, shining a green light across the room and revealing a map which showed a mark on a location. Kyle immediately knew where this was, unbeknownst to Kord. Polina, meanwhile, tried to keep quiet, her mind riddled with just the same kind of realization as Kyle's.
Kord's eyes gleamed with a predatory intelligence as he studied Kyle's reaction to the revelation of Aresenthanel's identity. The crime boss's voice resonated through the dimly lit room, accompanied by the rhythmic clicking of his mouth.
"Now, Kyle, I am a reasonable being," Kord began, his tone adopting a veneer of congeniality. "I understand the weight of such a task, and I acknowledge your skills. How about we sweeten the deal?"
Kord gestured toward the expansive chamber, and with a subtle motion of his remaining arms, he summoned his henchmen. A silver-colored female Twi'lek in a dark glittery dress approached, carrying a data pad and a secure-looking case. Kord's crimson eyes remained fixed on Kyle as the Twi'lek presented the items.
"In exchange for your services in dealing with Aresenthanel, I offer you a starship, top-of-the-line, equipped for your travels across the galaxy," Kord declared, the words hanging in the air with the allure of opportunity.
The Twi'lek opened the secure case, revealing a stack of credit chips, the glint of their metallic surface catching the ambient light. Kord continued, "And, of course, a generous sum of credits to ensure your future endeavors go smoothly. Consider it a gesture of goodwill between business associates."
Kyle maintained a guarded expression, the wheels of caution turning in his mind. The prospect of a starship and a considerable sum of credits was undoubtedly tempting, but the nature of the task gave him pause, especially given who the task was about. Kord observed Kyle's contemplation, his clicking sounds punctuating the silence.
"Think it over, Kyle," Kord suggested with a tone of understanding. "I understand the gravity of the situation. You and the girl must be tired. I can offer you lodgings within my establishment, a place to rest and consider my proposal."
The crime boss inclined his head toward a doorway, leading to a private area of his complex. "Take your time. Discuss it with your young companion. I trust you'll find the accommodations to your liking."
As if on cue, the Twi'lek handed the data pad to Kyle, displaying the details of the starship and the credited sum. "You'll find everything you need there," Kord added, his eyes still fixed on Kyle.
Kyle took the data pad, his expression a mix of skepticism and consideration. Glancing down at Polina, who stood silently beside him, he nodded in acknowledgment.
"We'll need some time to think it through," Kyle stated, his words carrying a tone of caution.
"Of course," Kord responded, his demeanor retaining a tone of courtesy. "Rest assured, I value the art of negotiation. Take all the time you need, my friends. The galaxy can be a dangerous place, and I believe in mutually beneficial arrangements."
With that, Kord motioned for his henchmen to guide Kyle and Polina to the designated lodgings, leaving the room with the scent of intrigue and potential danger lingering in the air.
The room provided by Kord was dimly lit, adorned with lavish decorations that clashed with the atmosphere of uncertainty that enveloped it. Polina paced back and forth, her small figure silhouetted by the faint glow of a holo-lamp. Her eyes betrayed the worry that weighed heavily on her.
"Kyle, we can't do this! We can't help that mob boss, and we definitely can't hurt Senth," Polina exclaimed, her voice fraught with distress.
Kyle sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the decision bearing down on him. He ran his fingers through his beard, contemplating the dilemma that had been thrust upon them. The data pad lay on the bedside table, its holographic display casting a soft glow in the room.
"I know, Polina," Kyle responded, his tone calm yet tinged with a somber resolve. "But we can't ignore the opportunity Kord is offering. A ship like that and a substantial sum of credits—it's our ticket out of here, away from this mess."
Polina halted her pacing, her eyes locking onto Kyle's. "But what about Senth? We can't just abandon him. He helped us."
Kyle sighed, recognizing the moral dilemma that lingered in the air. "I won't help Kord. But I've made up my mind about the ship. We'll take it and use it to get as far away from this place as possible."
Polina's eyes widened in a mix of relief and trepidation. "But what if Kord comes after us? What if he hurts Senth because we refused?"
Kyle reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Polina's shoulder. "We'll find a way to help Senth, but we can't play into Kord's game. We'll be smart about it, stay under the radar, and figure things out. This ship—it's a tool, not a pact with Kord."
Polina nodded, her worry not completely assuaged but tempered by Kyle's assurance. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt because of us."
"We'll do what we can to minimize the harm," Kyle said, his gaze determined. "But our first priority is getting out of this situation. Once we're in the ship, we'll decide our next move. Deal?"
Polina hesitated for a moment before nodding reluctantly. "Deal."
As the room fell into a heavy silence, the distant hum of the city outside seemed to echo the uncertainty that now enveloped Kyle and Polina. They knew they were treading a precarious path, but the galaxy had a way of presenting choices that were seldom black and white. The data pad, still displaying the details of the starship, served as a silent reminder of the complex web they found themselves entangled in.
The nights in Ord Mantell City teemed with clandestine transactions, revelry in the opulent heights, and the predictable undercurrent of petty crime. For Rego, a callous guardian of the depths beneath Kord's luxurious domain, it was a routine of grime for meager compensation. In a system like this, options for those at the bottom were scarce.
Exiting the cage-riddled confines, a lone guard found himself in the hanger bay, tasked with overseeing a concealed ship. Goro had mentioned a pickup for the next day, and standing vigilant in a desolate hanger seemed a mundane duty. Kord's reputation for merciless retribution against troublemakers lingered like a looming shadow over Ord Mantell, discouraging anyone from crossing him.
Yet, the man was indifferent to such concerns, engulfed in boredom. Suddenly the slide door adjacent to him rumbled open and another guard, a counterpart in monotony, strolled in. Both companions exchanged glances that spoke volumes about their shared ennui. The dimly lit hanger echoed with the distant hum of starships passing through the above skies.
With a knowing look, the other guard produced a small container of death sticks. The first guards eyes glinted with a spark of anticipation as the illicit items changed hands. They made their way towards the tarped ship for seclusion. Soon enough the pair began indulging in the deadly drug, exhaling tendrils of yellow and red liquid into the cold hanger air.
Little did they know that in the shadows lurked an unseen force, a presence that thrived in the art of anticipation and subversion. Kyle, wielding his lightsaber not yet activated, approached with silent precision. In the midst of their indulgence, the guards were oblivious to the impending disturbance.
As the death stick haze enveloped them, Kyle struck. His lightsaber ignited with a vibrant blue hum, slicing through the air in a swift arc. The element of surprise worked in the Jedi's favor as he effortlessly dispatched the guards before they could react.
The hanger now devoid of their sluggish presence, Kyle moved purposefully into the heart of the building, guided by an unrelenting determination to rescue those ensnared by Kord's malevolence.
Swiftly navigating the labyrinthine corridors, Kyle reached the destination Polina had divulged—the cage room. A symphony of despair echoed within as desperate pleas and cries reverberated off the cold metal walls. Undeterred, Kyle, a luminous figure in the darkness, entered with unwavering resolve. His lightsaber, a beacon of hope, materialized in his hand as he confronted a quartet of thugs, they all sat around a run down table at the center of the room. The element of surprise was his ally, yet he also wanted to give them a chance to reconsider their allegiances.
"Game's over fellas, how about you all go home!?" His voice spoke casually.
Ignoring Kyle's words the thugs began to clumsily pull out their weapons and a volley of blaster fire soon erupted. Kyle, a seasoned dancer in the art of combat, deftly deflected the incoming blaster bolts, orchestrating a mesmerizing dance of light within the shadows.
Two of the assailants unwittingly became victims of their own aggression as their blaster bolts rebounded, finding lethal purchase in their chests. With a seamless leap, Kyle advanced upon the remaining guards, driving his saber into one's chest and swiftly severing the arm of another followed by another slice at his chest to finish him off. Retreating into a defensive stance, he surveyed his surroundings, vigilant for any lingering threats.
"You kriffin bastard!" An audacious assailant emerged from a hallway, brandishing an electro staff, he rushed at Kyle with deadly intent.
The guard unleashed a multitude of attacks in quick succession, all filled with rage. The inevitable outcome soon unfolded with Kyle effortlessly dodging and countering, a masterful parry cutting the man's weapon in half followed by a fast diagonal slice at the assailant's chest life extingued from him at that moment.
With the immediate threats neutralized, Kyle seized the door handler attached to the fallen attacker's body, a key to liberation. Activating it with a few button presses, the cages swung open, unleashing a cascade of liberated captives. Chaos ensued as the freed prisoners surged forth, all of them reveling in newfound freedom and most importantly desire for retribution.
Amid expressions of gratitude from the liberated, Kyle noticed several of them seizing blasters from the ground. Escalating the stairs at the corner of the room, the prisoners ascended the floors, engaging in a fierce exchange of blaster fire with Kord's enforcers who were caught by surprise.
"That should keep them busy," Kyle murmured to himself, seizing the opportunity to return to the hangar bay where their ticket to freedom awaited, the very ship promised by Kord. Kyle, lightsaber still activated, arrived at the hanger, momentarily disoriented.
"Polina?" he called.
"I'm here!" Polina responded, emerging from behind a barricade of containers, carrying both Kyle's backpack and a rucksack filled with essential supplies.
"Did you free them?" she inquired.
Kyle nodded, a silent affirmation sufficing, punctuated by an explosion resonating from the upper floors—a clear indication of Kord's men grappling with the chaos wrought by the escaped prisoners.
"We need to leave now, come on!" Kyle urged, taking Polina's hand as they hastened towards the tarped ship. Knowing the absence of an activation code, Kyle hoped he'd be able to hack into the ship's mechanisms, a skill acquired from Jan's tutelage yet he still wasn't very well versed in it.
Approaching the still-shrouded vessel, Kyle fastened his saber to his belt and swiftly unveiled the ship's sleek silver plating, revealing an unmistakable H-Type Nubian yacht—a remnant of a more civilized age.
"Woah!" Polina marveled at the imposing sight while Kyle, focused and urgency in his mind, activated the ramp entrance. "Come on, Polina," he urged as she hurriedly made her way, struggling with the weight of the backpack.
"Let me take that, yo-" Kyle's words were abruptly halted by crimson blaster bolts, narrowly missing his head and scorching the ship's plating. Taking cover behind a makeshift barricade, he unsheathed his Bryar pistol. Polina sought refuge inside the yacht, dropping the bag and hastening to the control cabin.
"You're a real sleemo, you know, Kyle!" A familiar accented voice, Goro's, called out. "Yeah well, I never was one for wet work..." Kyle replied, exchanging verbal volleys while Goro continued his assault.
"Yeah, but thievery is right up your alley!"
"Spare me the disappointed monologue, I'm not the one kidnapping people for profit!" Kyle retorted, keeping an eye on Polina in the cabin, uncertain of her actions. As Goro advanced, blaster shots still focused on the Jedi, Kyle stood his ground.
"It's just business, Kyle, you Jedi Mercs ought to know that very well." Goro taunted, his blaster locked onto Kyle's position.
"That's the thing, Goro. You and your boss assumed wrong. I'm not a merc at all. Jedi don't work for money!" Kyle's resolute voice echoed.
Goro, undeterred, continued his advance, seeking a strategic position. "There's not many of you left then, what's one more dead hero Jedi, huh? It's just par for the course for your type!"
As Goro flanked the scrap heap, Polina inside the cabin activated emergency flares, they flew right out of the Nubian's side and unleashed blinding lights that disoriented the Sakiyan just as he was about to fire. Seizing the opportunity, Kyle jumped high off the platform and landed right behind Goro, his blaster pressed at the gangster's head.
"And I guess this is par for the course for you?" Kyle's voice held a threatening edge. Goro chuckled nervously.
"If you're not a merc Jedi, then you won't fire on an unarmed man, will you?" Goro dropped his blaster, challenging the Jedi's principles.
"Correct." Kyle swiftly summoned the fallen blaster with a flick of his palm, emphasizing his connection to the Force. Facing Goro, their eyes locked in a tense standoff.
"You best hope Kord never finds you, the price to pay for your treachery will be high," Goro warned.
Kyle nodded, his stern gaze unwavering. "I think you're about to pay your own price, so I wouldn't worry too much about us."
Goro turned, confronting the liberated captives armed and ready for retribution. Panic in his eyes, he pleaded with Kyle. "Wait, wait! I have the code to the ship, take me with you and I'll tel-"
A sudden jolt of pain cut Goro's plea short as he clutched his neck, realizing his once-cyber attached device was now in Kyle's grasp. "I think this'll be good enough, thank you!" Kyle retreated toward the ship, Bryar pistol still trained on the now-shocked Goro.
Kyle, maintaining a wary eye on Goro, eventually made it to the opened entrance ramp, closing it behind him as he entered. The cyber-neck interface flickered with blue light as Kyle strode into the ship's main cabin, moving to the main controls. Polina, peering through the ship's windows, witnessed the unfolding drama.
Outside, the chaos among the liberated prisoners escalated. Goro, still recovering from the unexpected assault, found himself surrounded by figures he had once imprisoned. Angry faces and vengeance-fueled determination emanated from every corner.
Taking advantage of the bedlam, Kyle manipulated the neck device with a few deft motions connecting its cables with the ship's outlets, navigating the ship's intricate security protocols. The hum of the ship's systems began to resonate through the hangar, a sign that Kyle was making progress.
Goro, now aware of the dire predicament he was in, attempted to negotiate with his former captives. "Wait, hold on! I can help you! Let's talk about this!"
The response he received was a mix of jeers, accusations, and a vengeful anger. The freed prisoners were not interested in Goro's pleas.
Back inside the ship, Polina, her eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, held her breath as Kyle continued his hack. The ship's exterior lights flickered as the final steps were taken.
Goro, realizing that his pleas fell on deaf ears, attempted to break through the circle forming around him. The angry mob, however, closed in, and the scene outside became a chaotic melee as the formerly imprisoned Gruner was first to lodge a strike at the mobster followed by the entire mob that descended upon him.
Meanwhile, with the ship now fully under Kyle's control, he nodded with a sense of accomplishment. "We're ready to go," he called to Polina, who quickly returned from her vigil by the windows.
The ship's engines hummed to life, drowning out the clamor outside. Polina secured herself in the co-pilot seat as Kyle prepared for takeoff.
As the vessel rose from the hangar floor, the chaos in Kord's compound intensified. Blaster fire echoed, and distant shouts filled the air. Kyle piloted the ship skillfully, maneuvering it through the chaos and away from the crime lord's clutches.
Leaving the turmoil behind, the ship ascended into the dark Ord Mantell sky, carrying with it Kyle, Polina, and the echoes of their daring escape.
As the ship soared through the night sky of Ord Mantell, Polina's eyes darted between the star-studded canvas outside and the control panels within the ship. The hum of the engines created a backdrop for the conversation that was about to unfold.
"Kyle," Polina's voice cut through the ambient noise. "We have to go warn Senth. Kord knows where he is, and he saved my life. We can't just leave him to whatever fate Kord has in mind."
Kyle, focusing on the ship's controls, sighed audibly. "Polina, our priority is to get as far away from Kord as possible. We have a working ship, and we need to find a safe haven."
"But Kyle, you told me we're supposed to defend the innocent and protect the weak. Isn't that what you said?" Polina countered, her eyes searching for a connection with the Jedi's sense of duty.
Kyle, slightly annoyed, glanced at Polina. "Yes, I did, but we need to prioritize our safety first. We can't help anyone if we're caught or worse."
"But what about Senth? He risked everything to help us. We can't just abandon him, Jedi don't just run away, we're supposed to do what is right!" Polina argued, a determination in her voice that echoed Kyle's own teachings.
The Jedi, torn between duty and pragmatism, considered his options. He knew the risks of returning to warn Senth but couldn't shake the echoes of his own words and teachings he had bestowed on Polina. Part of him felt proud that she at least remembered some of it.
With a reluctant nod, Kyle adjusted the ship's course. "Alright, we'll warn Senth. But we have to be careful, and we can't stay too long. Our safety comes first."
Polina, satisfied with the compromise, smiled. "Thank you, Kyle. I know this is the right thing to do."
As the ship altered its trajectory, leaving behind the city, Kyle couldn't shake the uncertainty that lingered. The stars witnessed their journey, indifferent to the struggles of those traversing the vastness of the galaxy.