Mission: Your Supplies Belong to Us

[Kel Dor]

There was a light breeze. The air was cool. Kast found Dubrillon to be a rather agreeable planet. If it wasn't for the coup d'etat, he might even consider an assignment on the planet to be an insult - what, could he not handle some rough scenery? As it were, his first mission felt like a suitably dangerous one for a Jedi of his talents. On the one hand, Nalro did not expect to be encountering any Sith Lords either in the forest or at the spaceport a few miles north of his current position. The idea of a heated lightsaber battle with a servant of the Dark side kept him awake at night, much to his shame.

On the other, his task required a certain bit of subterfuge and cunning. Kast was intelligent enough to handle the job, though he knew that wasn't always enough. Would he see his first battle that day? Take his first life? The prospect was not an encouraging one to the young Kel Dor. He hoped, as he had always hoped since his first days of training, that no one had to die today. Still, odds were it had to happen eventually.

Kast Nalro was all too aware of the tempt of the Dark Side. He had tasted it, slightly, before - the desire for power, for victory, even in his training. He had no knowledge of what the taking of a life would bring to him, but he was confident in his ability to withstand the taint. He had been taught well how to handle the onslaught of the Dark Side. Even then, alone among the silent trees of the forest, he found himself begin to slip into a trance state. He was aware of the Force moving all around him, through him. It comforted him and reminded him that he was never truly alone. He felt it moving throughout his body, swimming through his veins. He felt the force in his bones, as he always had. It kept him calm.


Kast was awaiting his partner, whom he had never met - another Jedi Knight assigned to deal with this rebel spaceport- at a rally point which Kast had been told about in his briefing. He knew nothing about the man - or was it the woman? What was the name...Maksem? Targo, Tarelk, Tarek? Tarek. He knew nothing about this Maksem Tarek but already considered it to be his superior. It was Kast's first mission, after all, and this Maksem was likely a seasoned veteran warrior. The Kel Dor found himself day dreaming about a towering Jedi warrior wielding two double bladed lightsabers at once, slicing through whole armies like so many flowers in a green field. The image, strangely enough, was comforting.

Kast ran a leathery, clawed finger down the bark of one of the trees, his mind toying with the possibilities which this day held.

 

[Dawyn]

Maksem’s arrival on Dubrillion was comparatively lackluster and uneventful, coming not by any Army-marked or his own ship but a public transport, since he did not like to openly announce himself as being fairly wealthy or a Jedi. Stepping out onto the lush world, he found it easier to breathe-which might have been more due to the fact that he had spent quite a large portion of his life living in moderately to highly polluted slums than the air being particularly fresh. His hair was ruffled from the long, cramped journey (The Force forbid the Army paying for anything more than economy class), his already well-worn robes now stained and smelling faintly of alcohol, with whatever drink the flight attendant had dropped on him mixing with the odors of the countless cantinas he had visited. The moment he had garnered a bit of privacy in the rather dingy starport bathroom, he threw up a light concealment shield, one that made any who looked at him without the Force have a hard time making out any distinct features and have a strong compulsion to slide their eyes away. It was far easier to maintain for long periods compared to making himself entirely invisible, and the likelihood of a Sith lowering his or herself enough to work as a mercenary for some minor Outer Rim nobility was little to none (only Jedi like him and his unfortunate partner did that), so he did not need to hide himself in the Force as well. Although he been assured the capital city was “””safe””” and he took pains to not announce himself as a Jedi, one could never be too certain.

He was on this mission chiefly because he (1) needed to get away from the depressing drudgery of Tython for at least and bit and (2) he had convinced the Drayen family that, in exchange for him risking his life so that they would not be violently murdered in a terrorist attack and/or public execution after being overthrown, they would grant him a certain personal concession in addition to being grateful to the Army. Some of his comrades might raise their eyebrows at this request or scoff, claiming it was not the way a proper Jedi should behave, but he did not feel like potentially getting shot in the chest and having a slow, painful end for one group of rich snobs so another group who was functionally identical and who were only the “worse option” because Vosrik or one of the higher ups had determined they would be less likely to comply with Jedi “advice” solely out of the goodness of his heart. This concession was twofold, one, they would treat him to an all-expenses-paid vacation to Tyrena, and two, they would make a sizeable donation to an offworld charity for slum children.

He had done a little research on his assigned partner, asking around Tython like he did before every mission, to assess the chances of him or her being a prick or the likelihood that they would do something foolish that would get them both killed. He was absolutely thrilled to have a Padawan right out of training as his partner, AND one who was marked as just barely competent with a lightsaber in the event their cover was blown and they had to fight. He was even a Kel’Dor! Perfect...so long as his partner didn’t get tired or started taking hits, forcing him to do the majority of the heavy lifting with Soresu. Truly, absolutely wonderful. No wonder they would soon win the war against the Sith and restore peace and order to the galaxy. Any day now. As for the prick part, he was uncertain, but green knights tended to be irritating for a wide variety of reasons.

As he approached the assigned location, he reached out with the Force, sensing no one in the immediate vicinity but the one who he assumed was his partner. It did not appear that he had been tracked-he just hoped his partner had not been either. He let the light shield fade away, feeling a slight relief as the strain faded quickly. The weather-worn Jedi nodded at his accomplice for the mission and gave him a slight smile. It was honest, yet somewhat fatalistic. He knew he would have to kill today, and likely quite a few. It wasn’t written in the mission parameters, no, the Army still pretended it held on to high principles, but if a large amount of those mercenaries manage to survive, they would still cause major problems for the world. And turning them over to the loyalist forces would result in the same thing, with the added benefit of torture by those who were not too fond of seeing their comrades killed.

“Kast, is it? Looks like we’ll be working together.” he said gruffly. “We have a bit to hike, so let’s discuss our plan on the way there.”
(Edited for SPAG, apologies, was in a bit of a hurry when I posted it!)

 

[Kel Dor]

Kast followed beside his Maksem. The human's "introduction" was enough for Kast, who moved on to the discussion of strategy. He had spent his time on the planet so far thinking about the best way to handle this situation, and thought he had a good plan in mind.

"Well," His voice was deep and rich, though his mask distorted it and caused it to be more robotic than reality. "Considering the objective of this mission is intelligence gathering and sabotage - and I would assume this has been your thinking as well - it seems as though stealth is our only real option. It is not
inconceivable that we could destroy the port's operation capacity in a matter of minutes and without being seen. However," Nalro kept his fingers locked together as the pair traveled, gesturing slightly with his head as he spoke.

"It is also conceivable that the rebels will discover us and force us into a confrontation. In which case it goes without saying we should follow the protocol. Offer them surrender, and defend ourselves with necessary force if they give us no other option."

Kast was almost sure that battle hardened rebels would never surrender to two Jedi, but he had his hopes. Crazier things have happened, right?
@Kiser

 

[Dawyn]

Well, Maksem thought, at least he understands the concept of stealth. Perhaps he can simply be guided into seeing the proper way of doing things, and that indeed means following protocol, simply one of a different kind. The sort that It means minimized their chances of being visitors to the new burial ground on Tython. Visitors who liked it so much that they would never leave…

“Mhmm…” Maksem replied pensively as he trudged along the path, his voice rough, “I agree that stealth is our only option. Now uh, I’m not...minimizing…your skillset, or my own, though that is more suited to stealth than open combat, but there could well be a company’s worth or more of heavily armed, crack troops in that spaceport. And that ain’t counting the reinforcements that’ll likely come out of the woodwork if we trip any alarms, and you bet this spaceport is important enough to these boys and girls that they’ll have those stationed nearby. I’m not, uh, optimistic about what’d happen to us if we are forced into a confrontation, announced ourselves like typical Jedi and demanded their surrender, and fought them in the open. Not with their current numbers and coordination. I think, if it comes to that, it might be better to immediately withdraw, and try again later, much later."

Stifling a cough and reaching into his robes, he pulled out a flask of water, and took a long, deep swig. How he wished he could drink before engaging in this sort of business, but he could not afford to lose focus. He could do that on his vacation And boy, would he run up a hell of a tab. He did not know much about Kel’Dorian biology, but he hoped they could drink alcohol. The next points he had to make were not something many Jedi could face sober.

“And even if they did decide to surrender, the Draken’s boys aren’t likely to be, how should I phrase this, sympathetic to them. Attempting to overthrow their royalty, and killing many of their friends and loved ones does not tend to engender warm feelings. And we do not have enough Jedi to make sure everything on this world is done properly for years and years. It might be ...kinder... to arrange our sabotage to ensure that they are removed from the conflict, but in a more humane way, and one that does not pass the buck along to others. Now, there’s also the question of intelligence gathering. If these mercs have been fighting the government for this long and people still don’t have conclusive proof of who they have been working for, it’s not going to be easy to coax that out of them. And your average hired gun isn’t going to be told, no, it’ll be their commander. That means we’ll have to get to him before we make our sabotage known, and make sure we’re not disturbed. And uh…”

Maksem looked directly at the Kel’Dor with a hint of tired sadness in his eyes. “He or she is not likely to be forthcoming about that information, nor have it stored in any place that’ll be easy to find. Not at all. How good at you at...persuading people to do things they might not want to do?”

Maksem took another, long swig from his flask. Damn, he really should keep at least watered down alcohol in it.

 

[Kel Dor]

He drank a lot. This surprised Kast, who had never tried alcohol and doubted very much that he ever would. Nalro had been wrong about a towering Jedi warrior being sent in to clear out the rebels with an iron fist, but the reality of his partner was far more interesting than the fantasy. Who was this human? Kast was glad that his partner at least seemed to have noble intentions behind his sort of...cynicism about the way the mission would go. Kast listened intently, eager to glean whatever lessons he could from someone who had spent so much more time in the field.

Kast was silent for a few moments after Maksem finished talking. The two walked in silence save for the quiet crunching of leaves under foot. Nalro's head tilted upwards slightly, his eyes fixed in the distance as he mused over what the Jedi had said and asked. He found himself fixated on the idea of turning the rebels in to almost certain torture. On the one hand, it seemed like justice to the young Knight. These two were visitors on this planet, and the way Kast saw it, they had no right to interfere with the planet's idea of justice. The right thing to do would be to turn these rebels in to the authorities, not to act as vigilantes, right? Kast was unconvinced by both lines of thinking.

A brief yet possibly awkward time had passed before he spoke. "With all due respect - and I am quite sure you are due a healthy amount - our objective is simply to destabilize the port and gather information. Now, I have no qualms with defending ourselves and if that means we are forced to take life, then so be it. But in the event that we should take prisoners - which you deem unlikely and with which I happen to agree - it seems to me that the correct course of action would be to turn them in to the authorities. This planet's idea of justice might just interfere with that of the Jedi, but who are we to change the customs and values of this planet? The fate of these rebels is not why we are here, correct? If the ruling powers decide that these rebels deserve torture, that blood is not on our hands. We are only responsible for their fates if it is us who spills their blood. However, we do not know for an absolute fact that torture will be applied. Now please keep in mind I speak only of the hypothetical situation in which we have prisoners in our possession. Surely you do not mean to execute unarmed and surrendering combatants?"

Kast was satisfied with his articulation of his thoughts, and moved on to the next point.

"Now, on the matter of interrogation. I consider myself to be rather adept at the art of Force Persuasion, and I am confident that there are Jedi on Tython who would agree. Unless there is a Force sensitive running around with these men and women who is teaching them to combat the Force, I am confident that I can get any necessary information out of the Commander. However, the act is an intensely discomforting one to me. It seems that the line between the Dark and the Light is extremely blurred in matters such as these, and I tremble to imagine I might one day look around and find myself on the wrong side of it." Kast inhaled, a slight pause to indicate he was still considering his next words.

"I will extract the necessary information out of the Commander as I have been strictly ordered to gather whatever information I can. I will not force him to betray his soldiers, nor will I cause him to take his own life. If a man is to die, he should die with his own mind. I do not mean to imply that you would ask me to do such things as these, but I thought it prudent to outline clearly where I stand before the issue should arise."

Nalro found himself wishing he could have a swig. It seemed to calm his fellow Jedi, or at least help him cope with the horrors of wartime. Kast wished desperately that he had been born as a peacetime Jedi. But this was war.

Still, he would not allow himself to compromise any of his morals in the name of a war effort. He hoped.

 

[Dawyn]

It took a great deal of willpower for Maksem not to openly flinch at the other Jedi’s response, but to keep walking forward as if nothing had happened. Part of this might have been due to his own shock-that a newly minted Jedi straight out of Tython was entirely fine with what was most likely the brutal torture, and then straight up execution, of up to a hundred sentient beings so long as it was not done directly done by his own hands. That, and the total, abject abandonment of responsibility for what happened to their foes, whether they took them prisoner or even if the sabotage was successful, they were indirectly responsible for what happened. Even if they let their enemies live, they would continue to participate in the conflict, continue to cause more death and suffering, fighting until they surrendered-and still be tortured, meaning they would be responsible for even more death and the same thing. And they were supposed to just walk away, as if they had no part in it, had no influence in that fate. Because there was maybe a one percent chance that none of that would happen, just like maybe one out of a hundred day’s his own father was too drunk to harass him or his mother. For the Force’s sake, even the Sith were more honest about their influence, responsibility, and what was likely to happen.

Now, he himself wasn’t opposed to forced mental persuasion, or even torture, if it was the only way to gain crucial information that could save others. Just like he was not opposed to killing if it avoided a greater suffering.But he refused to take pleasure in it, refused to sit by and let it happen simply for the sake of revenge or hatred. And, most importantly, he never, ever denied responsibility for it. All the blood-it was on his hands at the end of the day, to remind him that he was not infallible, that he was not perfect, that he could not solve every problem in the galaxy or have all the correct answers. He didn’t sleep well at night, not without alcohol, and in his opinion, no Jedi should. They should always feel the burden of what they had done or failed to do-it was only by that could they avoid self-aggrandizement and pride, the surest ways to the Dark Side.

Thus it give him sad amusement to see the Kel’Dor, with his belief in the complete abandonment of responsibility for their foes and nonchalance toward their fate, however grim it would be, be afraid that a little rough interrogation with their commander would be the thing that would turn him to the Dark Side. Spast, he really regretted not bringing alcohol with him.

"No,” Maksem said softly, giving an almost pitying, grave look towards the Kel’Dor “I do not intend to murder unarmed and surrendering combatants, for the chance of that is slim. If they die, they will die on their own two feet, doing what they choose to do.”

But I am not going to let them be captured and tortured, nor am I going to let them do anything that will cause more death and suffering. If they have to die, they will do so as painlessly and quickly as possible. Something I will ensure if I have to.

“And good. He should remain his own self, of course. Since you are more skilled at doing that with the Force than I am, here is what I think would work best. I will will assist you in reaching the commander’s quarters and ensuring you are not disturbed. You can then take the time you need to extract whatever information we need from him, hopefully by normal persuasion first. Meanwhile, I will utilize my own abilities to sabotage this place without raising the alarm. Then we’ll make a quiet extraction, watch the effects of the sabotage, and return back to our merry benefactors and report a successful mission. Simple, right?”

Maksem gave him a wan grin, realizing another contradiction of the Kel’Dors-he seemed awfully concerned with keeping the mind of the commander intact, only to condone turning him over to authorities who would break his mind later with torture with much more cruel and physical forms of torment. But he would not point that out, no, it would do no good. The Kel’Dor would have to realize the price of indifference, of neutrality, one day on his own. Nothing he could say would change his mind.

And the scary thing is, he is still better than your average Sith. What is it about the Force that leads to us all being so broken? Gods, I need that vacation, I need it badly.

 

[Kel Dor]

Kast could feel his fellow Jedi's disappoint with him, though he struggled to understand it. What was so bad about Kast's suggestion? They had a mission, did they not? These were combatants they were dealing with, not innocent civilians. The Kel'Dor struggled to understand Maksem. These rebels knew the risk they took. It was not as if Nalro got any sort of pleasure out of the idea of their torture, but he had never suggested going out of their way to secure these men without bloodshed. It was only important to Kast that they at least offered surrender to these men whose lives Kast was not particularly eager to take. Nalro was unsure whether his logic was flawed - whether he was flawed - or whether his skills of articulation had simply not been sufficient.

Kast was happy that the men at least agreed on how best to handle the Commander. He had a hunch that when it came down to the wire, all their talking and debating would not amount to much. Many lives would be lost that day, and very few (if any) would be by the hands of the authorities of this planet. No, these deaths would be caused by the ever extending, ever hungry hands of the Jedi. Kast Nalro found himself musing on the imperialistic nature of the Jedi Knights and their war against the Sith. What significance did this planet's little rebellion have to the battle against the Light and the Dark? There were (presumably) no Sith operating here. Why would the Jedi Knights allow themselves to get involved in the squabbles of politics? Kast was disturbed. Were the Jedi being led astray? Was there some person high up the Chain of Command whose ambition for power was muddying the waters? The Knight had no clue. All he knew was that he loved the Jedi and their ways deeply, and would do anything for the Order. Including challenge its leadership, if it was required.

At the moment, however, nothing could be done. He was on the planet, he had accepted his mission, and he intended to carry it out. However, he decided right there, as the two Jedi clambered through the forest, that he would never again agree to go on a mission that he did not believe in. He would be absolutely sure that he understood and found noble the goals outlined by his leaders. If a mission seemed pointless or, even worse, nefarious, he would refuse to participate. The Knights would have to deal with it. After all, they could almost certainly find a better soldier than himself.

"Right," Kast responded when his partner had finished speaking, "Simple. If you are discovered during your efforts, I will most likely sense that you are in danger and rush to your aid. I am sure you have seen reports of my dueling skills," The elephant in the room was being addressed. "and I have no argument against my record. However, just because I may be bested in hand-to-hand combat does not mean I am unable to handle myself. Just as some Jedi must compensate their lack of skill at articulating their knowledge of the Force in a dangerous situation, so to must I compensate my lack of skill with a lightsaber with my Force talents." Kast laughed slightly under his breath. "Of course, I'd very much appreciate it not coming to that, as I'm sure you would."

Soon, Kast began to recognize certain landmarks from his briefing. The duo were fast approaching their port. Kast silently allowed Maksem to take a slight lead, allowing Maksem's experience to lead them into the situation. He took a deep breath. It was about to begin.

 

[Dawyn]

I hope those talents include something to withstand three to four squads of mercenaries with heavy weaponry Maksem thought morbidly as he skulked otherwise he’s likely to be more of a liability to me than an asset in the event I run into trouble. Better make sure I minimize the chances of that happening.

Outwardly, he simply gave a nod to the Kel’Dor as the pair skulked through the forest. The light continued to fade as they continued their journey, plunging their surroundings into darkness as night fell. He deftly navigated through various brush and detritus, reaching out to the Force to guide him, thankful that his childhood and his study at the Temple had sharpened his senses to a razor’s edge. When they reached the outer edge of the picket line, he motioned for Kast to hit the dirt alongside him. They would have to crawl until they passed the last of the sentries.

I could ask him to try using his powers of persuasion on some of them, but I would rather not risk that. If one of them is particularly intelligent or has a strong will, that could be our undoing. Besides, I suspect he will need to save his strength to handle what is to come.

“We’ll have to evade them all.” He whispered to Kast “I’m certain that they have regular check-ins, and if even one misses it, they’ll lock down the spaceport hard and fast and start sweeping the woods. I hope you aren’t afraid of bugs.”

Without further comment, Maksem began the slow and arduous journey forward, his robes becoming stained with grime, leaves, and the occasional patch of mud. More than a few insects scurried across him, and he swore he felt some sort of centipede crawl over his leg. Although their target was visible to them through the trees and tall grass, being perhaps a quarter mile away, the journey past the perimeter patrols took nearly two hours. Stopping, waiting, observing shifts in the patrols, calculating when the best time to move would be. Maksem felt almost at home, as he had to do that many a time on his missions with Evanova over the years, and, indeed, as a child trying to avoid the muggers and drug dealers that lined the path to his home.

Finally, they arrived at the back of the spaceport, in a thicket of bushes near the edge of a haphazard cargo depot. Maksem drew himself into a squatting position, observing the myriad number of large crates and stacked boxes in between them and their objective. As far as he could tell with his senses, there were only two guards protecting the service entrance, holding some kind of smaller weapons-maybe blaster pistols or carbines. He wasn’t quite sure, as he had focused on sensing the physical more than the mental so far in his training, but they seemed bored and relaxed. He did not really blame them-few could penetrate their extensive picket line undetected, and they likely knew the Drayen family either had no special forces, or were keeping them in reserve for their own defense.

Gesturing for Kast to follow him once more, he nimbly stood and sprinted to the cover of the crates, quickly maneuvering his way to their center so as to hide their presence from the pickets behind or the guards in front. Unhooking his lightsaber from his belt and placing it in his right hand, he gave a quick nod to his companion.

“There are two guards in front of us. I’m going to grab you one and bring him right back here, since we don’t have the time to search the entire spaceport for the commander’s office. You’ll need to get that information out of him, and fast. I don’t think they will be missed as soon as their pickets, but they will eventually, so we cannot afford to waste time. Hopefully, his office will have a decent diagram of this place, so I can best determine where to sabotage it and how.”

Giving a nod to the Kel’Dor, Maksem moved slowly and quietly to the front of the depot, weaving in and out of various cargo containers. He waited until he had crept to the very edge of the depot, getting a visual confirmation on the two guards. One was a young human armed with a blaster pistol, and the other a grizzled Bothan with a blaster carbine. He decided that the younger one would live-veteran mercenaries were harder to interrogate, they knew that if they squealed on a commander or employer, they’d never find work again.

Holding his breath and concentrating, Maksem prepared himself and drew heavily on the Force, bending both light and sound around himself in a full concealment shield. No doubt it would appear to Kast as if someone had suddenly ignited a massive pyre in the Force right next to him. He could immediately feel the strain upon his mind and the beginnings of physical fatigue, but it was thankfully not quite as awful as when his master had forced him to hold that and conceal himself from her in the Force. That kind of complete invisibility tended to burn him out quite quickly. He knew that he would have to practice with that more when he had time-if he survived this mission.

Wasting no time, he sprinted over to the Bothan, waiting until the very last moment to drop his concealment. Igniting his aquamarine blade with an hiss, he slashed across the seasoned mercenary’s throat with a swift one-handed cut, ending any scream before it could even begin and sending a ripple of death through that which connected all living things. Pirouetting toward his younger foe, he reached out with his free hand and drew the startled youth to him with a powerful telekinetic pull before he could even draw his pistol, gripping the soldier's throat firmly with his hand.

“One word and you’ll lose your head just as quickly as your friend.” Maksem hissed, more than a few beads of sweat now dripping down his brow. It would have been much less taxing if he had been able to simply cut both down with his saber after dropping the concealment, he hated immediately switching to another use of the Force straight after. Another thing he needed to improve on. Seeing the youth nod, he quickly spun him around and turned off his saber, holding it to the youth’s back. Quickly marching him to where Kast was waiting, he threw him down roughly.

“Get acquainted with our guest here. I have something to hide.” He not-quite-ordered, voice slightly ragged from his burst of exertion. Hurriedly slipping back to the service entrance, he went to work dragging the headless Bothan’s corpse into the concealment of the cargo depot, then his head. Thankfully, no one had stumbled upon it in his brief absence. After he was satisfied that it was well out of sight, he rested for a little bit, giving Kast a decent amount of time to interrogate the boy, and himself time to recover. He would need all the strength he could get. Once he felt sufficiently rested, he returned to the spot he had left the Kel’Dor, curious as to what he had found out.

 

[Kel Dor]

Kel'Dor were more physically durable than several races, including humans. So the problem Kast had with their efforts of getting into the spaceport were not physical, but rather entirely mental. It was a grueling effort to move so slowly, so deliberately, for so long. He found himself completely impressed - blown away, even - by the apparent ease with which Maksem lead the duo through the defenses of the spaceport. Clearly, Nalro had a lot to learn that could not be taught to him in an archive.

After one hell of a long time, the two of them arrived in the bushes. Maksem let his intentions be known, then approached the duo. Kast was confused by what Maksem had said to him - only bringing one of the guards? What of the other?

He got his answer very quickly. Kast felt the sudden stab of life being stolen from the world even as the Bothan head hit the floor. It took a lot of effort not to cry out, to curse Maksem for not even making an effort of trying to contain them both. He would eventually realize that his expectations of Maksem were grossly naive, but at the moment he pushed his feelings down. He had a job to do, and the life of a fellow Jedi depended on his ability to do it.

Kast was down on one knee when Maksem brought the guard over. "I wish I could be nice about this, but we don't have the time. Please forgive me." Kast held his hand in front of the human's forehead and closed his eyes, using his other hand to cover the man's mouth. He knew there would be screams. The Kel'Dor would certainly have preferred to avoid delving into the man's mind - it would leave him permanently scarred - but there was no time. At least he wasn't dead like the Bothan.

Kast Nalro dove into the mind in front of him. The young human was mentally weak, not to mention scared out of his wits. Kast could feel the energy he was expounding, but it was nowhere near his limit. Kast searched the guard's memories - routes, rations, unimportant things. Eventually he stumbled upon exactly what they were looking for. Commander's office, luckily near the very same cargo port at which the Jedi found themselves. Code to enter the room. The Commander's name, unimportant. Later, Kast would wish desperately that he had stopped searching the guard's mind when he had the opportunity. But he didn't, and he discovered that the Commander had children. Two daughters, young. And a wife. The information had seemed of very little importance to Kast at the time, but that would change.

When Maksem returned, Kast looked up at him.

"I got what we need." Kast turned back to the guard. "You have the sudden urge to return to your quarters and sleep. If anyone asks, you will tell them you feel desperately sick."

"I have the sudden urge to return to my quarters and sleep. If anyone asks, I will them I feel desperately sick."

With that, the guard was up and gone. The duo wasted no time in moving on. Maksem lead the way yet again, expertly leading Kast through the port undiscovered. They waited behind corners, Fairly soon, they were outside the Commander's office. Kast closed his eyes and felt for any presence inside the office; there was one. Their luck was running high, so far.

"Keep watch out here. I'll be as quick as I can."

Kast entered the office, the door closing behind him. The commander behind a desk in the center of the room stood quickly. He was a broad man with a white beard and a shining, bald head. A long scar ran diagonally down his left eye. The name was Raften.

"The hell are you?" Raften made his quickest effort to pull a blaster pistol out of a holster on his hip, and it was an admirable effort - sadly for him, Kast had seen it coming a mile away. Kast already had his arm extended toward the man. The Force flowed through him, out of him, and tugged the blaster out of the Commander's hand. That was Kast's first application of the Force in a combat situation; he would make many milestones that day.

"Sit down, Commander." In nearly the blink of an eye, Kast unhooked his lightsaber and smashed the door controls on the wall over his left shoulder with its hilt. It prevented the Commander from being able to leave the room, but also cut Kast off from Maksem until one of them decided to cut a hole through the solid metal with their weapons. The Jedi hoped Maksem trusted him to get this done. Though he wasn't completely sure he trusted himself.

"What do you want, Jedi? There's no Sith for you to fight here, or babies to steal." Nalro considered this a gross oversimplification of the Jedi training process, but didn't see any point in wasting his time with a debate. "Commander," He spoke with a formal voice, his head high. As far as he was concerned, this was almost a neogotiation. "I feel that I owe you honesty. I don't care much for you, for this port, for your cause. But I have been ordered to walk in to this room and get information out of you. This is what I intend to do. You know what this is?" Kast held his lightsaber up for the Commander to see. He was closer to the desk now; he had walked maybe three or four feet. "Of course I do, nerfherder. It's a -"

"Yes, yes, it's a lightsaber, everyone knows what one looks like." Kast took a few steps forward and placed the weapon on the desk, in front of the Commander. "I have never used this weapon to take a life before. Actually no, I've never taken any lives before. I would very much like for that not to change. Is there a datapad in the room, something that could perhaps tell me all the required pertinent information on this port? Specifically, a location most susceptible to sabotage would be appropriate."

"You must be more stupid than you look. I'm not telling you anything, scum. Kill me if you'd like."

"Well, see, in reality you really are going to have to give me something. I have ways of extracting this information against your will - I would just very much like to avoid that and for you to give me what I need so I may be on my way."

The Commander didn't speak for a few moments. The two glared at each other over Raften's desk, the lightsaber laying neatly between them. Suddenly, though with plenty of warning to a trained Kel'Dor eye, Raften made a sudden mad grab for Kast's lightsaber. But the Jedi had been expecting this. So when it happened, Kast had already been ready to fling Raften across the room and against the back wall. Unfortunately, even though Kast had been ready to execute this plan, he had underestimated his strength and tossed Raften perhaps a little too forcefully. When Raften smashed against the far wall, the Jedi heard the telltale sound of cracked ribs. Kast was frustrated at himself for causing undue pain, but there was also something else...

Was it satisfaction? Pride? Whatever it was hit Kast like a typhoon, cascading over him and filling him with a deep desire to cause more pain, to break more bones, to prove how powerful he was to this person who was completely defenseless in the face of the Force. This feeling scared Kast like nothing else ever had, and he worked hard to bury it even as he continued his interrogation.

Taking his lightsaber from the desk, Kast walked around and approached Raften, who had managed to stand on his feet again and was coming at Kast with a right hook. Kast threw his arms forward, releasing a hard surge of Force energy which pushed Raften back into the wall. Something else snapped - more ribs, spine, maybe? With each breaking bone, a surge of pleasure ran through Kast. He did his best to ignore it - reminded himself that this was wrong, despicable even. It was a necessary evil which he must carry out for the good of, at least, a fellow Jedi who had a very dangerous job to complete.

Raften slid back to the floor, prompting Kast to drop to his knees. The commander's saliva had visible traces of blood as it ran out the side of his mouth. "I'm sorry, Commander." Kast held his hand up in front of Raften's face and began to probe his mind.

Except, there was still some fight left in the old soldier. Kast was incapable of penetrating Raften's will, prompting short laughs from the old man inbetween grunts of pain and exertion. Kast could feel his energy waning - the act of throwing a full grown human into a wall a couple of times, he figured, could do that.

"Heh. So, your mind tricks failed, eh, Jedi?" Kast let fly a hard fist at Raften's nose. The connection snapped the bone and left the Commander looking quite lopsided. "Tell me what I need to know Raften."

"You'll get nothing from me. You're worse than nothing. Scum. Self righteous scum, but when it comes down to it, none of you are any better than anyone else."

Kast knew that this was taking too long. He began to feel the throb of desperation in his heart; he feared failure above all else. He felt that he had already gone so far with Raften, had already done things he would've never imagined he'd do. But at the end of the day, this was a soldier. A rebel, who knew what risk he had undertaken. Would Kast choose this life over that of a fellow Jedi? The answer was clear.

He pointed his saber to the side and ignited it. The low hum filled the room, bathing the two of them in a faint green light. The blade was beautiful, had always been beautiful; smooth, powerful. Kast had built it nearly flawlessly - his reward for months and months spent researching and practicing the art of lightsaber construction. "Commander," his low, mechanical voice nearly whispered, "I have an ally who will die if you don't tell me what I need to know. Don't make me do this. Talk."

"You'll never make it out of this port alive. You're already dead."

He felt that he had no other choice. Kast turned the lightsaber towards the ground and eased it down through Raften's knee - slowly. Deliberately. The old commander fought hard, but Kast held him down with the Force. "Talk Raften." Kast nearly had to scream over the Commander's grunts and shrieks of pain, and did indeed scream at certain points. "You wouldn't want me meeting your two little girls."

The clear threat had come without thought to Kast, and had flown from his mouth like a flood. It had stopped everything in the room - Raften had stopped screaming, Kast had stopped sliding his lightsaber toward the ground (he had switched it off, in fact). Everything in the world seemed to end as the reality of what Kast had said seeped in. Kast felt Raften's fear, anger, and even love for his daughters. He knew that Raften hated him unlike anything in the galaxy in that moment, and Kast Nalro understood that. The Kel'Dor even hated himself for it. A threat of that nature should've been off limits to a Jedi, to anyone with honor. Only a Sith would've threatened somebody's family in such a way. But Kast had done it.

Still, there was no time to falter. Kast felt a weakness. A crack in the facade, a way in. He threw his hand up and dove inside Raften's mind, the defences of which had crumbled to dust. There was a datapad in the desk which was protected by a passcode. Good. Kast left the man's mind and stood, though for a moment he was unable to move. The man at his feet was decimated. Smoke drifted upwards from a burning hole in Raften's knee. His nose was crumpled to the side and he coughed blood every few seconds. But even through all that, the Commander was strong. He somehow found the will to tilt his head up towards the Kel'Dor Jedi.

"You're a coward. You'll live a coward and you will die a coward. You can pretend to stand for whatever you like, Jedi, but you're a sick and twisted hound. You should be put down like the mutt you really are. You-"

Kast could listen to it no more. Death would be a mercy for Raften at this point. He ignited his lightsaber and, with a swift stroke, decapitated the Commander, whose head rolled a few inches before coming to a stop on its side.

He wanted to collapse to his knees and cry out, to weep, to beg for forgiveness. He had not expected that encounter to be so brutal, so barbaric. He felt guilt, sadness, regret, failure - but underneath it all, quietly waiting from the shadows, he felt happiness. Power. Glee, even. Pride. He buried it, fought it, fooled himself in to thinking it wasn't there, but it was. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Kast found the will to move. He went to the desk, took out the datapad, and accessed it. It had several important aspects about the facility, including guard movements and a layout of the entire port. Kast could guess by the density of guards in one particular area that it would probably be the place Maksem would have to access in order to properly take the port out of commission. With his task completed, Kast wasted no time in cutting a large enough hole in the door for himself to fit through.

"I've got it. Let's move." He was tired, though not yet completely exhausted. His voice was filled with sadness, with guilt. He hoped he hid the pride from his fellow Jedi.

 

[Dawyn]

Masksem felt silently judged by the Kel’Dor as they moved to their objective-he had to assume it was out of naivete. He had only decided to kill the Bothan because he had no other choice-an attempt to capture both of them might have well resulted in one being able to get a blaster shot off or yell, which would have meant the likely death of the Kast. And he had tried to make it as painless as possible, one quick, precise slash across the throat. After having to take so many lives during his time as a Jedi, he got little pleasure out of killing, only a sense of tired numbness. And that was just one of the many reasons why he drank.

He was quiet as they proceeded to the commander’s office, focusing the majority of his attention on sensing the movements of their foes. It was good that it was relatively isolated, for there were quite a few of them. Not counting the pickets, there seemed to be at least a half a company of them across the spaceport, maybe more. Perhaps they could take them in a protracted guerilla battle in the forest, but trapped in the spaceport, with Kast being unable to cloak himself? He was not optimistic. Still, it would only be a matter of time before someone would come to see the commander, and he would have to be alert when that happened.

The sound of a large thump against the wall and the use of the Force in the office, however, redirected at least some of his senses towards what was occurring inside. And what he perceived through the door disturbed him, for the commander hit the wall not once, but twice, and quite forcefully. And then, after a brief conversation, a lightsaber stabbed through the officer’s knee. Clearly, whatever the Kel’Dor had attempted failed, and he was trying out more traditional means. Means he likely had little knowledge or experience of, and which would cause unnecessary suffering.

What the Force? I’ll have to go in. If he can’t get what we need from using the Force to persuade him, I might as well handle it. He’ll just hurt the man even more, and…

A tremor of death rippled across that which bound everything together, shaking Maksem from his reverie. He had killed the man? So quickly? Why? He might have been useful.

Damn it, I hope he got everything we needed out of him. The man could have been helpful, we could have used him to lure all the mercenaries to a central location, making everything much easier.

After Kast burned a hole through the door and stepped out, Maksem glanced into the office. A clearly beaten, decapitated corpse was the only thing left of the commander. What did they teach people on Tython these days?

“You could have simply locked and then unlocked the door,” Maksem said gruffly, gesturing to the now gaping hole in it. “It would have bought us more time, for if anyone came this way, they would have seen it was locked and assumed the commander was out and about if he did not answer. Now, they will know he is dead.”

He let out a long sigh, glancing at the datapad he carried. He hoped that was not all the Kel’Dor had got out of him, for he doubted any decent mercenary leader on this kind of rebel mission would have his supplier neatly listed for any enemy forces to see on it.

“Did you get everything we needed out of him? Where best to sabotage the base? His suppliers?” Maksem continued, brown eyes locking onto Kast's with an a deep intensity “And...how do you feel? From what I know, that was your first kill, and it...did not seem pleasant.”

 

[Kel Dor]

Kast was filled with shame, nearly unable to look at his partner. He just wanted to get off this damned miserable planet. He handed the datapad to his partner.

"This has patrol routes and times, as well as a map of the port. Judging by the density of guards placed in the southern section, I'd say the best place to do some real damage would be there." Kast forced himself to look at Maksem and face his failure. "I failed to acquire the identity of his suppliers. Please forgive me. His second-in-command is stationed in that southern section as well, perhaps we can ask him. Again, I am extremely sorry for my fallibility. I know I am an inconvenience, if not a liability to you. Luckily I still have the energy to carry out whatever is required, Tarek. As for the Commander -"

He looked through the hole he had made. "It was messy. Dirtier than it had to be. How do I feel? Not well. Not well in the slightest. But that is something I must deal with on my own."

Kast felt like a monster, like the scum Raften had accused him of being. But nothing could be done about it now. It would take a lot of inner reflection and meditation for him to decide how best to handle what he had just carried out. But, for now, their lives were on the line and the body in that room had created a ticking clock.

"We should move before a patrol happens this way."

 

[Dawyn]

Maksem grew a little bit more pale at what Kast had told him, and, truth be told, irritated. Things had been going so well up to this point-and now, the virgin Jedi (in more ways than one, Maksem suspected) had done something that could easily get them both butchered if it was not managed carefully. Yet, had he not been, for the lack of a better word, something of a blockhead himself when he had first started out under Evanova, and, indeed, when he had first been allowed to roam on his own without her guidance? He sighed, and put a hand on Kast’s shoulder.

“What’s done is done. There’s no point dwelling on it now-that comes later, with alcohol, or whatever the equivalent for your species is. Lots of it. Sometimes for days. That, or whatever therapy and meditation stuff that Vosrik or the higher ups prefer we do. What is important to realize is that you’ve made a mistake, that even though you might wield the Force, you’re no different from a regular person. Just with different abilities. And a regular person isn’t perfect all the time, they screw up, sometimes badly. It’s how you pick yourself up and learn from the experience that counts. In a way, this was good for you. Maybe you won’t turn out like one of the stuck up, hypocritical little bastards that make up so many of the Sith, and indeed, our own Order.”

Maksem gave the Kel’Dor a tight smile.

“Now uh, I would say more, but we don’t have time for a pep speech, y’know? Let’s see that datapad.” Reaching for it and taking it from his comrade’s hands, he studied the map and the patrol routes carefully. After a couple of precious minutes, he nodded, straightened, and laid out his plan.

“Okay, so, although he is stationed at that section of the station,every so often it seems the second-in-command comes back here to deliver a report with a squad for an escort and to sweep the whole of the facility. He’s scheduled to come back soon. What we will have to do is launch a two-pronged surprise attack on them, from the front and behind, and make sure no survivors have the time to run back to the other side of the station or to radio an alarm.”

Maksem paused to catch his breath, looking at the tired Kel’Dor with a vigilant expression.

"That means heavy use of the Force. You’ll also have to have the strength to interrogate the second-in-command, find out what we need to know, and, if you can, force him to call back all the pickets and assemble all the troops in the southern sector while I take care of the sabotage. After that, I’ll do what I must, and we can both exfiltrate, and Vosrik will no doubt be made aware of our existence and praise us for being upstanding Knights of the Ar-just kidding, at best, we’ll get a little golden star put next to our names on Tython and maybe some appreciation from the Drayen’s.”

At least, I will. Hope you made a deal with them for something more than a few words.

“Understand?”

 

[Kel Dor]

Kast nodded, shameful at his mistake but understanding of the fact that no amount of self pity could change it now. He was eager to help Maksem get out of this alive. "I understand."

The two of them basically waited around for sometime until it got appropriately near the exact moment at which the Second would 'round the corner of the hallway. Kast said nothing to Maksem as the senior Jedi took off down the hall to take his place of ambush behind the approaching patrol. For his part, Kast decided that his best option would be to wait in the corner of Raften's office to spring the ambush as soon as they walked in. He waited a few minutes more before footsteps were heard coming down the hall. They were moving quickly - not running, but with the urgency of men who knew something was going on. It sounded like seven or eight men had accompanied the Second on his patrol.

They came to the office and stopped. Not a sound was made for a few seconds, but finally a voice which Kast assumed belong to the now Acting Commander of the port swore.

"Jedi. Vathrak, Molo, cover my back. I'm going in there. The rest of you, watch this hallway."

Slow steps approached the door. Kast knew enough about basic tactics to know that the soldiers would likely check both corners upon their entrance into the room - he just had to hope he was lucky.

Apparently, he was. The first soldier that entered appeared to be the Second in Command, and he checked the corner opposite the one in which Kast was hiding. The Jedi sprung. Just as the Second was turning around, Kast used the Force to unleash a bright flash of light which (hopefully) temporarily blinded the Second in Command. His lightsaber already ignited, he turned and cut down the two soldiers who had accompanied the Second in the room using a broad diagonal slash that caught them each across the chest. The killings hurt, but it was a diluted pain.

As he spun to deal with the soldiers in the hallway, Kast made a fist with his empty hand and caught the Second across the jaw, putting him on the ground for what Kast hoped would be the duration of the fight. Immediately in front of the door stood two men, both guns aimed straight for his brain. He assumed the rest of the patrol must've been busy dealing with Maksem.

The Kel'Dor leaped high in the air just as the soldiers blasted, narrowly allowing him to dodge their lasers. He landed just behind them, crouched low, then turned and swept his lightsaber through the air. He took them just below the waists, eliciting painful shrieks and groans from each. He ending their sufferings with quick stabs through the foreheads.

Kast turned his head to see Maksem standing there. Nalro's method of dispatching the Second had left his unused hand and wrist bloodied, but other than that he seemed untouched. He switched off his lightsaber and waited for Tarek's next order.

 

[Dawyn]

Hoping his green companion was up to the task, Maksem raced off down the narrow hallway. He reached out with his senses as far as they would stretch, trying to sense the perceive the beat of every heart, the scuff of every footfall, and the click of every blaster as he tried to find an advantageous position to slip in behind the upcoming patrol without bumping into them in the tight corridor. Thankfully, he located a small alcove next to a supporting pillar, and pressed himself back as far as he could against the wall. And none too soon, as he no longer had to use the Force to hear the clank of the soldiers’ boots on the durasteel floors.

I just hope we can eliminate them without too much noise. Or injuries. Kast will need to make his interrogation quick, for if the patrol does not return from the commander’s office soon without an announcement of some sort, they’ll know something's up.

Moments before the first of the patrol stepped around the corner, Maksem threw up his full concealment shield once more, again feeling the effort that came with it. Not as bad as it could have been, as he had time to rest, but he would not want to use it for any longer than he had to. He still had to sabotage the spaceport without being seen, and, if things did not pan out correctly, might have to do so to evade the pickets on his way out.

Shadowing the heavily armed squad, he followed as a veritable ghost, waiting for Kast to make the first move. A distracted enemy is as good as a dead enemy to him. When he felt the surge of power and saw the bright light emanating from inside the deceased commander’s office, he wasted no time. Dropping the concealment shield while the squad was focused on Kast, he struck like a whirlwind, his teal blade a blaze of light as he used the Force to bolster his movements, combining the deadly, aggressive cuts of Djem So with preternatural speed. The soldiers never even had the shadow of a chance. Without a single shot being fired on his end, three men and a woman lay dead at his feet, torn apart by the vicious slashes of a lightsaber.

Spast, this is bad business.

Maksem trembled a bit from the effort, but it was worth it as he glanced up at Kast. It seemed they had killed most of the squad in the span of a few moments, and while they had not exactly been quiet, it did not seem anyone was able to raise the alarm. That bought them some time-not much.

“Get the information out of him, and make him order all the pickets and men to assemble in the southern section if you can. You have ten, fifteen minutes at most before people begin to wonder where the patrol is and check up with them on the comms.” Maksem said, slightly out of breath. Not wasting a single moment, he turned down the hallway, and began his quick trot towards the fuel lines and tankers. If he had his way, this place would turn into a fireball large enough to be seen from the Drayen’s palace.

(Edited for some SPAG).

 

[Kel Dor]

Kast noddeed an affirmation, though it seemed very much unlike Maksem had waited to see it. With his partner dashing off to complete the mission, Kast turned back in to the office to offer his support in the form of yet another interrogation...

When a swift blow caught his right hand. His lightsaber flew up towards the roof and landed with a thud upon the floor. Kast had no time to salvage it, though. The second-in-command was on top of him in a second. The man had blood streaming from a cut in his jaw, but he was very much capable of a bout. Kast raised his hands to push him back, but the Second was too quick. Kast was grabbed and thrown in to the nearest wall. The Second pounded against the side of Kast's head like a feral beast.

For a few blows, it was all Kast could do to try and keep his arms up and defend himself. He took most of the blows straight on. After three or four, he was able to wrest himself free enough to plant a foot on the Second's stomach and push him away.

The mercenary went crashing into the desk. Kast took a step forward, but stumbled back into the wall disoriented. The Second stood and charged, but Kast was able to throw a right hook just in time to catch the man in the jaw, opening up another cut on the opposite side as the last. The Second stumbled past him and into the door. The Kel'Dor jumped at the man, though he was grabbed.

The two grappled at each other, threw punches, and tossed each other across the office for some time. At one point, when the Second tumbled backwards over the desk in the center of the room, a Commlink on his belt beeped in to activity.

"Pike," a stern voice came from the device, "Pike, you and your patrol are behind schedule. Has something gone wrong? Come in, Sir."

The Second's eyes lit up as he reached for his communicator. Kast reacted quickly, having a chance to throw his first Force push of the fight. The Second stumbled back, dropping the communicator on the floor. The young Jedi launched himself over the desk and threw himself on top of the Commander. He threw a punch with his right hand that smashed into the Second's jaw. He threw a left that was blocked, and then another right which connected.

"Sir, come in. Are you alright? Has something happened?" Kast grabbed the Second's head and smashed it into the floor. This disoriented the Second long enough for Kast to dive to the side and grab the communicator.

Kast held his hand over the man's face and dove desperately into his mind. There was a defense there, still. Kast forced himself harder, allowing greater surges of the Force to flow through his body.

"Sir? Sir?" The defense collapsed suddenly, allowing Kast to take control of the man. "That's it Sir, we are sounding the alarm and sending troops to your position."

"Not to me!" Kast was whispering into the Second's ear so as not to be heard by the merc on the other end of the communicator. "Not to me. Send the patrols to the southern section of the port." Kast's words were repeated by the Second. "All patrols, all guards. Sound the alarm and get every single body in this port to the south. This is an emergency."

""Sir?"

"Do it. Now!"

The communicator shut off. Kast "convinced" the Second to take a nice nap on the floor of the room before collapsing against the desk. He had exhausted himself.

He could only hope Maksem would be able to accomplish the more explosive side of the mission.

 

[Dawyn]

Maksem raced through the corridors of the starport, knowing that time was against him as he hurtled towards his objective. His legs ached as he did so, he did not dare to draw upon the Force unless it was necessary, he had to reserve his strength for what was to come. When he reached the southern sector of the spaceport, and the first patrol, he wrapped himself in his full concealment shield, and quickly moved towards the location the datapad indicated: the main fuel reserve, which was sloppily located not too far away from the main armament depot. An explosion there would set off the next one, and both would be enough to disable the starport-and take more than a few mercenaries along with it.

Not quite as professional as I thought or, they were not expecting to be attacked. Either way, I’m not complaining.

Quickly dodging another patrol, he made his way to where the large fuel tank was, and blanched. Half a squad was protecting it, spread out, and the alarm had just started to ring. He had no time. He hoped that the mantra that one’s ability in the Force grew only when one’s limits were stretched-because his were going to be.

Running over to the first guard, he did not even bother dropping his concealment as he quickly ignited his blade and shoved it through his chest, pushing him forward onto the duracrete, turning it off instantly after, and moving to the next target, who had not seen what had caused the first guard to collapse but who did not know the reason. He soon did, as his head flew off with a quick slash of the blade-the remaining four guards clearly seeing it. They began firing their blasters wildly in his general direction.

Spast.

Taking a circuitous route towards half of the remaining guards he leapt into the air and dropped his concealment as he attacked with a falling Form V strike, bisecting his first target, and quickly pirouetting to slash the second. Blaster fire began to pepper his blade, one bolt which he redirected back towards its shooters face. The last remaining guard he dealt with by a Force push into a wall, and then a saber throw to the chest. By the end of it all, he was drenched in sweat.

Not...fun.

Knowing he had a minute at best, he reached down and grabbed one of the grenades from a corpse, thanking the Force it had a timer option. Setting it for seven minutes, he carefully skimpered up to the top of the fuel tank, slashed it off with his lightsaber, dropped it in the tank, and began to run.

He figured he had two minutes remaining by the time he ran past the former commander’s office, shouting at Kast to run. Using his last remaining strength, he bolstered his speed with the Force, hurtling out through the back door and through the cargo depot to the relative safety of the forest. His eyes blurring, his body aching, and his mind fogged, he sagged into a depression, utterly burned out. He hoped Kast had been able to make it out at least half as far as him-he would be singed a bit, but not dead.

And then the explosions began.

 

[Kel Dor]

As Kast leaned against the desk trying to recover from the fight he had just survived, it suddenly occurred to him that he had once again forgotten to ask about the damned supplier. He leaned forward with a groan and crawled over to the Second's unconscious body. He lazily slammed his fist down against the man's chest. "Get up." He slammed his fist down for a second time. "Up, now!"

The Second's eyes began to ease open. "Who's your supplier?" The second spit blood on the floor and allowed his head to ease back down. The Jedi responded with a swift punch to his nose. "I really, really do not have time for this. Who is it?" Kast grabbed the man's collar and pulled him up. "I'll need to know right this second." The second whispered his answer, prompting a stab of surprise which rushed through Nalro's body. Surely he had heard that wrong. But he didn't have any time to ask further questions.

Maksem ran by the door at that exact moment, shouting with the urgency of a man who had just planted a bomb on a large and explosive military compound. Kast found energy within himself to run - parts came from physical stamina, other parts came from what little capacity for the Force he had left. He sprinted through the compound not far behind Maksem. As soon as Kast reached the edge of the forest, the explosions had begun. Kast dove other a log and took cover just as the shockwave from the explosion flew through the trees. Leaves and branches fell to the ground with large thuds as fires raged throughout the spaceport.

"Maksem!" Kast shouted, pulling himself up to his feet. He couldn't see his Jedi companion, but knew better than to assume he was dead. "Maksem, I'm not dead. Where are you?"

 

[Dawyn]

Maksem shuddered not at the force of the explosion that ripped through the forest, but at the deaths of nearly one hundred mercenaries that struck him like an icy wind through the Force. So much death, so much destruction, and much more of that would come in the following days on this Outer Rim world. And, ultimately, the galaxy would go on as usual-he doubted even the Holonews on this planet would have more than a brief article upon it, if it did at all. No, the only two who would truly know what had happened here would be he and Kast. The Jedi leadership would simply nod, smile, commend them, and check another accomplished objective off their list.

At least I managed to save them all from brutal torture. I can cling on to that when I’m drinking. They died almost instantaneously to that fuel, rather than over the course of weeks, months, or even years.

He was relieved that he could still sense Kast, albeit only in a diminished sense thanks to the exhaustion he felt. He was thankful for that. At least he was not responsible for the death of another Jedi too.

“I’m alive...whether I’m well is another matter entirely.” Maksem shouted back, stumbling through the forest until he reached the Kel’Dor. He then sat beside him, and looked towards the raging pillar of flame that was now the spaceport. Glancing at his comrade, he gave him a wan smile.

“It seems our mission is complete, I just hope it was worth it."