With lightning speed, Ahsoka blocked the Sith's strike and attempted to counter with a Sai Cha thrust to his neck. He evaded the blow with ease and retaliated at once—but the red blade was intercepted by an orange one. Her Master had arrived just in time, attempting in turn to strike Vos with a classic Sai Tok. The traitor answered with a Force Push, hurling the man backward.
Thank you, Master.
No need… careful, on your right.
Yes.
As they continued fencing and deflecting the Kiffar's attacks, they exchanged brief messages.
He's strong, Master.
Yes. We need a decisive strike.
We need to— Now!
Ahsoka thrust her hand forward simultaneously with her Master, channeling telekinesis and flinging Quinlan back a dozen meters. He landed gracefully on the stony surface of the wasteland and began walking toward them at a measured pace.
Master?
Yes. We won't last long, so we must act decisively. I'll lock his blade—while you strike.
How will you manage that? He's quick.
I'll separate the sabers.
Understood.
Her Master did exactly as he had said. His two blades crossed and firmly pinned the Sith's crimson saber in place.
Now!
Ahsoka surged forward, accelerating with the Force. She literally flowed around her Master's body and struck with both blades. Vos narrowly avoided her Cho Mok at the last instant, but the Togruta's shoto found its mark, executing Sun Djem—the Sith's blade was cleaved clean in half. Two jagged fragments of lightsaber hilt hissed and died in the sand.
Snarling, the Kiffar leapt back a full thirty meters, using Sai—a variant of the Force Jump.
The girl and her Master advanced toward him slowly.
"It's over, Vos. You've lost. Surrender, and we will spare your life. The Jedi Council will decide your fate. And you know as well as I do—they are renowned for their mercy. Surrender." Her Master fixed Quinlan Vos with a steady gaze.
Ahsoka watched him too—and began to notice… no, she began to feel that something bad was happening. Something terrible. And then she saw it.
The Kiffar's eyes were turning yellow, and she felt that same sensation that had surrounded Asajj Ventress… and Zule Xiss.
The dark side of the Force.
"You think you've defeated me, don't you? You're mistaken! I will show you the power of the Dark Side!"
Master?
He won't surrender. We'll have to kill him.
Ten steps separated them—only ten—and when she and her master took two more, intending to strike, Vos threw up his hands.
A jolt of danger shot through her nerves, but neither she nor her Master reacted in time. Blue-white lightning erupted from the Sith's hands and struck them.
Then came the pain. Wild, unbearable pain that tore through every cell in her body.
The girl dropped her sabers and tried to raise a Force Barrier. She even managed it—for a few seconds she held back the torrent of energy, so saturated with Darkness it was terrifying. But… through the bond she shared with her Master, she felt his pain, his suffering—and that only made it worse. The Togruta was exhausted from the battle and could not sustain the barrier for more than two seconds.
And she would have been better off not trying to use it at all: when it fell, a massive wave of energy slammed into her and hurled her backward. Ahsoka lost her footing at the crest of the hill and tumbled down the slope.
The lightning ceased—but along with the pain, as she reached the foot of the ridge and collapsed face-first into the sand, her consciousness slipped away.
***
Pain.
Savage pain that darkened my vision and forced my heart to pound as it never had before. I felt my veins bulging throughout my body, my muscles twisting in violent spasms.
Good…
Good that Ahsoka is out of the fight—and all the pain is mine alone.
But… it hurts. It hurts so much!
I am here.
Hutt-spawned Force lightning! I tried to raise my blade as Obi-Wan had during his duel with Dooku—but the lightning pierced through it and struck me anyway. I had to deactivate it to avoid injuring myself. It seemed Kenobi had relied on something more than his lightsaber alone.
Hutt-spawned lightning… I hadn't even known Vos could wield it…
Dropping to my knees, I raised my hands in a defensive gesture. It was all I could manage.
Through the agony, I felt the Kiffar's joy and euphoria—he was literally reveling in my suffering.
I am here. I am within you.
Lower the right hand. The left still grips the hilt—the brunt of the lightning crashing into it.
You feel my power. You know you can claim it.
The pain intensified beyond endurance: the prosthetic served as a kind of conduit, the arcs of energy ravaging my body through it. Still, I could move my right arm—unlike the prosthesis, which was on the verge of locking up despite its simplicity. I had no margin for error. Slowly dropping to one knee, I angled my right side away from Quinlan.
Only a rasp tore from my throat—there was no strength left to scream. Vos's laughter rang in my ears.
It hurts!
My right hand crept slowly toward my belt.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!!!
Toward the place where the blaster holster rests.
Pain… I could only breathe by force of will. It felt as if not only my heart were about to burst from my chest, but my skull might split apart from the pressure in my mind.
Moments passed before I managed to snap open the holster clasp and wrap my trembling fingers around the blaster's grip.
How easy it had been to let my hand fall—and how impossibly hard to lift it again!
My vision doubles, but I have no need to aim. The enemy stands directly before me. He is literally savoring what he does.
Raise the blaster. Gather what little strength remains—and squeeze the trigger. Once. Twice. Three times.
The lightning stopped tearing through my body, but I kept pulling the trigger as long as I had the strength.
I felt… death?
Did I get him? I got him!!!
I defeated him, ha-ha-ha!
Exhausted, I collapsed onto my side, the pistol slipping from my grasp. For a brief moment my vision cleared—and I saw millions of stars overhead. How clear the nights are here. And cold…
I felt no pain. Only… cold.
Ahsoka? Is she alive? Yes… alive…
Cold…
Darkness flooded everything around me…
Cold… Force, it's so cold…
***
Ahsoka jolted awake and immediately began coughing—sand had filled her mouth and eyes. Of course it had; she had fallen face-first into it. Blinking furiously, she took in the looming hills and the star-strewn sky above. Grimacing, she tried to stand. Not on the first attempt—but she managed. It hurt. So much…
Pain!
The enemy!
Master!
Ahsoka felt no presence.
Despising the pain and forcing it deep inside herself, the girl sprinted up the slope.
When she reached the crest, she froze.
Quinlan Vos and her Master lay eight paces apart. The Kiffar froze on his knees—he looked almost alive in that position—but she felt that he was dead. His cloak was burned through by three blaster bolts in the chest, and a fourth had pierced his neck. It was clearly visible—his head was thrown back.
Her Master lay on his back and… was smiling. A blaster pistol lay beside him.
Rushing to him, Ahsoka fell against his body. Listening closely, she felt horror seize her.
The Jedi's heart was not beating.
Terror began to seize the girl, yet she mastered herself. With a frantic tug she tore the field kit from her belt and ripped open the fastenings of the man's sleeveless tunic… and gasped. Now, fully blinking away the sand, she saw everything in dreadful clarity.
The Jedi's body from his left shoulder—where the prosthetic met the skin—down across half his torso ran black-and-red marks, as though the flesh had been scorched and charred. Similar burns marred his left side and neck, creeping up onto his cheek and even across his brow.
Frozen for two seconds, the girl shook her lekku sharply and began to act.
Snatching out a pair of injectors, she administered several doses of bacta—everything she had—along with a couple of stimulants, all while reaching out through the Force in an attempt to heal him.
However, it yielded no result.
Desperate, she extended her hand and, using telekinesis, began to massage her Master's heart directly.
After a few seconds—seconds that felt like eternity—his body jerked violently. He coughed, then drew in a ragged breath and opened his eyes.
"Master!" Ahsoka collapsed against his chest, drained. The steel cable of composure that had bound her snapped, and she burst into tears.
"I'm glad to see you too, Ahsoka."
"Idiot! Don't you ever scare me like that again!" the girl cried, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.
"I won't," the Jedi whispered. Then he carefully slipped an arm around her waist. They lay there, unmoving.
"I think… someone's flying in…" he murmured—and lost consciousness again.
Ahsoka stirred and looked to the sky. Several shuttles, gunships, and fighters were approaching.
They were their own.
Springing to her feet, she searched for a way to draw their attention. Finally, she found it. Pulling a flare from her pouch, the Togruta twisted the base and began waving the brilliant red torch of sparks and fire.
One of the shuttles dipped its wings and dove sharply downward, a searchlight flooding them in white brilliance.
"Hold on, Master! Help is almost here!" Notes:P@treon: SadRaven
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