"A shrink might be concerned at how little I care about risks."
The glowing blue blade had made a bit of a mess of Darth Angral's face when it had activated behind his head. Positioned just above the base of the skull, the plasma blade had skewered through the middle of his brain and through his nose, reducing it to a molten and misshapen mess.
The damage to his brain, if not the surprise, had made him twitch.
That twitch had moved his body while my lightsaber cut everything around it, further destroying his brain.
When he fell to the rubble pile, my lightsaber did not move, merely cutting a sizeable gash through the Sith Lord's head. The ruined and scorched stone and brick shifted and rustled as the body seized and twitched as his synapses fired their last desperate signals. The sight made my stomach turn, but I knew there was nothing I could do to spare him or put him out of his misery.
I had felt him die before he even hit the ground.
Anything I would do would only be for my sake.
Reaching out with the Force, I grabbed a smoldering fragment of my mask. The bolt of lightning had turned my suit ragged and burned away my mask, and the fragments that were trapped in my shirt collar still bore the remnants of fire. I freed one of the fragments and revived its fire, before tossing the fire onto Darth Angral corpse.
Respectful cremation, this was not. A proper Sith burial, it was not. But it was as close to it as I could manage. Especially since there were more important things at hand. Like how I was feeling more than a little bit woozy. And that my torso appeared to be covered in something warm and slick that past experience on Chembau told me was my own blood.
And most importantly of all, my team.
"How about that," a familiar and reassuring voice said. The Little Jedi, skidding to a halt in front of me, looking reasonably fine. A few scrapes and scorchmarks, but otherwise fine. God, I was the luckiest man in the galaxy to have her on my side; to face a Darth and be damn near fine on no less than two occasions on my behalf? It was almost worrying how much she had done for me. "You actually did it."
"You sound disappointed," I joked. I knew the Little Jedi was fine, her injuries superficial. How I knew that, however… how odd. Why did I know that? And where was that feeling of smug satisfaction coming from? "Look, if it makes you feel better, you can have the next Sith Lord who wants a piece of me."
"Little Sith, your gift-giving skills need work," she joked. As tempting as it was to engage in some light banter, I had more important things to do.
"Status report?" I called out, shouting so as to be heard by the rest of my group.
"Levin and Bybon need a medical droid," Natia reported from somewhere out of my field of view. I stumbled in the direction of her voice, meeting her halfway. The apprentice was wounded, sporting a collection of smoldering wounds across her arms, shoulders, and torso. Still, she was walking. That was good. "They need new limbs or extensive surgery. Loa will be fine."
Succinct and professional. From a Sith, that was a miracle.
"They need more than just a medical droid, they need one now," Loa's voice spat. We hurried over the next mound of rubble and found her kneeling over Levin. For once, the man looked incredibly calm despite my proximity. At least, until I got a look at his face and recognized the vacant stare for what it was: trauma. The pale, sweat-covered skin and ragged breathing combined were probably indicative of shock. Especially since both of his arms ended with smoking and charred stumps. The rest of his body looked much better, though only because a ragged bodysuit covered it.
Reaching out with the Force, I focused on those stumps. I could not heal him, at least not in a way that he would appreciate. But I could do something else.
One of the embers flaking from the charred wound broke off and floated away. Instead of just disappearing and being forgotten, as one would reasonably expect, the little ember grew brighter and brighter as I used the Force to fuel its dormant fire.
Within a second, a small flame blazed in the air between us, and I moved it closer to Levin. Close enough that it would keep him toasty, but far enough away that he wouldn't burn to a crisp.
"Loa, keep that fire going," I ordered. The tall apprentice looked at me, her features confused before growing resolute, and the fire grew stronger as she figured out how to manipulate flames on the fly. It would do.
The warmth would keep Levin from going into shock. His life was in her hands, and she had screwed up once before. She would succeed in this, I knew.
"Jedi, call your ship," I ordered. "It's the best hope we've got for getting everyone medical treatment. Bybon? How're you holding up?"
"I'll live," the bulky man hissed, clutching at his arm above the elbow. Below, the limb had been cut in two, still smoking and steaming from what had presumably been a lightsaber blow. "You killed Angral?"
"I did," I confirmed. My first kill… I was expecting it to feel… weightier. Like it had had more meaning. Like there was an indelible mark placed upon my soul, or a weight off my shoulders. But it was just another moment in my life. Nothing had changed.
That, I did not like.
Death was final. Killing should be momentous. For it to just… be something was anticlimactic. Like killing was uneventful. Like the removal of life from the galaxy was something that did not deserve greater mention.
I could meditate on this later. There were other things to handle right now.
"Good," Bybon said, relaxing a bit into the pile of rubble he was using as a seat. "You're good for something after all, eh?"
"Get yourself to the fire, Bybon," I said, using the Force to pull him to the blazing ball of flame that Loa was sustaining in front of Levin. The apprentice, for his part, did not resist. Even if he was hiding it better than his peer, there was a chance he was going into shock, too. Best not to let that happen.
"Jedi? Padawan Karsen? How are you holding up?" I asked.
"I'll live," the padawan answered. She, much like her master, was covered in a smattering of surface-level injuries.
"As will I," the Jedi Knight, confirmed. In his hand was a commlink that he calmly stored in his belt. "T7 should be here in a minute or so. Apparently, he is taking the credit for bringing down the shuttle that had carried Darth Angral."
"He is welcome to it," I said, rolling my shoulders. For once, no pain accompanied the motion. Yeah, the bugs were gone. Good. Now, if only I could tell why it felt like someone was staring at me…
No, silly question. If it ever felt like someone was staring at me, that meant someone was staring at me.
Glancing to the left, I met the Little Jedi's gaze. Even though her expression was studiously neutral, there was concern there. Worry.
Like she was asking if I doing alright.
Honestly… no, I wasn't. I was feeling more than a bit woozy, though whether that was due to ebbing adrenaline, blood loss, or whatever junk from the bugs still lingered in my system that my constant blood cleansing wasn't quite catching, I had no clue. The fatigue of the past week was being kept at bay only through the Force. My first kill had come and gone, and that needed pondering…
I was not looking forward to that inevitable train of thought.
But the fact that she was worried about me was reassuring. It brought a smile to my face, knowing that even though the Little Jedi had every reason to cut me down, or to cut me out of her life for being yet another Sith corrupted by the Dark Side, she was willing to take the time to wonder if I was doing alright.
And I appreciated it.
I appreciated her.
...
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