The ship carrying its occupants lurched.
Once. Twice. It couldn’t be a mere bit of turbulence. Anger rose in the Sith’s throat as the doors were torn open in rage. He was apprenticed to the Dark Lord of the Sith, he did not like to be interrupted.
Voices of concern lifted, mentions of fighting, of damage.
CRUNCH
CRACK
Suddenly the air was gone from the interior, but they were still flying.
No. That’s not quite right.
They were falling.
Sucked out of the innards of the ship, the depressurizing wind was enough to forcefully eject the bodies contained within. A human wasn’t made to endure the speed of a declining vessel, worse still her vision was going white, she didn’t know where she was or anything else. She was falling hard. And fast.
When pain finally awoke her a great irony greeted her vision along with a terrible sight. The scent of smoke and ash, grand trees and homes nestled within were alight with the fire of the battle around them. The bindings that had her wrists managed to snag onto a branch. Sith craft crashed into another tree as her body flinched from the impact, the explosion, debris, and heat lighting up the night of battle. In its wake was a Mandalorian vessel. They’d been shot down by Mandalorians who were fighting back against the Empire, the actions taken thus far had rallied some defiance, it seemed to be her salvation now.
Which clan… no wait… can’t think of that now…
The cuffs had saved her, but how her arms and wrists ached. Her body had already been so badly and grievously weakened.
Is this it… do I give up… are you done?
Breath and muscle quaked, she had to get down somehow, and there was a platform at least. But she had to move. Shimmying her body with a raw agony with each inch she sought to free herself.
But as she neared the edge the branch began to bend, began to bow, and then…
CRUNCH
CRACK
Nearby a resident being saw her and was ready to catch her before she fell beyond reach to the forest however deep and far below. With its strength she was lifted, brought up and away from the abyss. Only when her feet touched a solid surface could some sense return to her, the wookie breaking off the cuffs quickly to free her before going back to try and save their home that was presently alight. The thanks was feeble compared to what they’d done for her, but the situation was too rapid and chaotic for appreciation to set in. Things were bad.
Voiding the contents of her stomach it allowed some relief to wash through her, temporarily at least. Her steps and movements were a weary aching clawing along the railings of the tree platforms, making her way into the village itself.
Half stumbling she was still too weak to even help put out the damage that was raging around them, walking up as she was greeted by another wookie bearing a hat of some local station. She could understand them at least even in this fragile state.
"Who-" His words would not last at all.
Through the center of the wookie’s chest came a saber’s snap and hiss. Pierced and felled within a moment the body fell away as his assailant stood no longer eclipsed by the other.
Bandon was holding her saber still and used it to kill without remorse or hesitation. And now his lethal attention fell onto her. Without anything to defend herself with, her body needed so badly to heal. Weak. There was no way to fight back.
"Why won’t you just die…" He growled, steps closing in.
It’s over now… there’s no chance… are you done?
A singular note, the defiance welled up within her. How many times had she told the others in moments far more soft and gentle than these.
I will never stop fighting. Not until I am dead.
Something silent came to her side, a grasp not of hostility but of warmth, familiar. An oasis from this moment of calamity.
Argus.
A healing washed over her as the weakness and injuries ebbed away within a fraction of a second. Breathing in once slowly, she’d let the Force flow through her. She was not alone.
A thrum came from the weapon he held, her saber remade from the remains of the fallen Jedi Master. Reforged with elements she’d been granted by her allies, every detail an expression she could hold, to carry them with her always.
Powered by the kyber granted to her from the great shift in her path forward, the bond of adoration and service, igniting with that lust for life and defiant hope. Her hand reached out instinctively, reaching unto the Force, calling her weapon home.
The strength summoned was enough to overpower Bandon’s, revealing a faint but quickly fading surprise as his own weapon ignited. Two blades of crimson against her own green edge. No surrender would be acceptable, the contest beginning as Kashyyyk burned around them.
"Just. DIE!"
Driven by duty and purpose their strikes were expertly placed, Kathea was forced to adapt to his weapon. Where he could hit harder and faster she knew there would be openings if she remained patient enough, careful enough. Her own form was far smaller, but she could be faster, more nimble.
Kicking, sliding, the sabers would meet and strikes would land while their flurries played out. Two experts at the height of their respective powers colliding in this moment. He’d try and destroy the elements around them to facilitate further destruction and fuel himself in that expression of control and dominance. Forced to defend and blockade she’d focus on surviving the displacement by drawing in the reach of the branches to dampen the fall.
Down they both went as the first level and bridge gave way, but she kept her footing. The fires continuing to rage around them as she came again. She couldn’t let him keep his confidence and she would not hesitate for even a breath as her own reach was far shorter than his own. She had to reduce the angles and hunt after him with every breath. Using the crumbling elements Kathea would launch herself through the air and between his twin blade to close the gap.
Within Bandon came a rage but also an uncertainty that started to bleed through.
"You couldn’t even pick a side!"
Between deflections and brief sparks that ignited between his face could be seen twisting in anger, a flash of his teeth. Her own expression grim but focused, having known the flow of the fight. Built from the early days to kill and tempered down into this refined, balanced warrior.
"What is this strength!?"
Utilizing the dwindling terrain as they fell from one platform to the next, he landed hard enough for her to drive his weapon back. Everything on the battlefield was an element to be exploited, her saber wasn’t the only weapon she carried.
"Never AGAIN will I bow! Never AGAIN will I hide or sulk or quiver… I am no one’s shadow…"
Answering each blow the wounds incurred thus far seemed to fade from thought. The countless hours sparring with those of the Sith, those of the Jedi, and Mandalorian had driven her body to a new height. Fueled by the Force, feeling the memory of her experiences building in her heart and mind.
This man was a foe, the Sith, the brutal beast.
And here was she, once Sith herself having walked in the wake of Revan, carrying the fighting spirit of a Mando’ade, the clarity of the Jedi.
She was all these things…
"I AM KATHEA SINRAE"
The words came from her like a roar. This once Sith, this former bitter creature that had yearned so deeply to be heard, to be witnessed, to fight for the great things of this life gave a cry like never before. This was a sound without fear and anguish, without rage or woe. A challenging fury of one who refused to be broken, facing him.
And when it sounded, Lord Bandon’s eyes went wide as something shifted. That teetering dynamic had been pushed cut by cut back. The woman was no longer afraid, no longer confused, or left in hapless disarray. No.
He was afraid.
The strikes came quicker, her own single blade appearing within his vision faster and with a distressing precision. There was the battle they were in, and the battle of the mind. With his sudden retreat she couldn’t hesitate, striking with the demands of Makashi’s determined quality. The strike along his wrist, it was time to end this.
Subdued, disarmed, the saber’s grasp was removed. The Sith found himself looking up without a weapon, without a will. Stunned, too stunned to fight back.
The Jedi of such small stature, of such a strange and ongoing path approached close to the man she’d suffered for so long. Even after the exertions of combat there was something determined and quiet about her.
One hand brought her own saber, now unlit to his chest. Her other hand reached for the man who stared back at her in abject horror and broken confusion, cupping his cheek with no harmful intent in her heart. An embrace like that she had wished for from special hearts in her life, she held Bandon’s face delicately as her amber eyes beheld his own that were twisted from the corruption of the dark.
Her words were few, sincere, and serene. Brushing through the air with the softness of a falling leaf.
"Lord Bandon… I forgive you."
What passed through the expression of the terrible apprentice was a deep rapture of utter confusion. How in a world of harshness could this prevail. How with all he’d done for power have fallen short to this.
Kathea could see that struggle within, and she did not move. Not until he had time to consider and process. In fairness it had vexed her considerably for some time as well, but training with the Jedi, seeking the aid she had in the past few days now… everything had aligned.
"And now… I grant you peace."
The saber in her palm, carrying the core and memory of her connection to Valerius came to life.
Enough was enough, there was no room to hesitate further. The weapon awakening against his form with lethal and merciful intent. Plasma met armor, met flesh, met blood, met bone. All the way through.
At that moment the platform that had endured the battle raging around it gave way in an instant, Bandon’s body falling away with the debris as his wound was dealt. Plummeting, wide eyed into the forest below, who knows how far his limp remains went until they reached the ground.
Finally, the howl of countless hours and days of this wretched agony were suddenly silenced. A moment of sublimation, where the wrongs and weights all lifted. Even if he somehow survived this the man would never be the same again. She had defeated him killing the memory, the man, the terrible burden and piece of the dark from her life.
Until finally her body succumbed to the wounds and fell forth. The emerald shine of noble’s light quieting as she collapsed next to the crumbled platform where her foe no longer stood. A gentle force pulling her away from the edge, away from danger.
Darkness… Quiet…
Peace.
There was a grasp again, warm, welcome once more. In recognition she murmured out the word to greet him, "Master"
Her head lulling back, turned over where she lay, she saw Argus again bathed in tender light. She’d not realize how her eyes wept, but then again with such a release, after such a battle it was only fair her body finally let herself feel.
The man was in no pain as he was one with the Force now, but instead looked to her, proud. Tender. His message was for her alone.
"There will always be shadows, but you’ll be the light… that brushes them away… my dear padawan… rest now… you did your best."
Closing her eyes, she heard someone coming, reaching for her, lifting her. That was okay. She had done enough for today.
A call came through on the interior of the Viscaran temple, her name was on their lips. A sudden rush to depart, to act as their footfalls hurriedly reached transport… they had to find her.
