Jedi Insurgency 096

The air reeked of scorched durasteel, melted plastoid, and the metallic tang of blood.

Eriadu’s skyline once shone with industrial ambition. Now jagged, broken skyscrapers dotted the landscape, and resembled snapped branches or broken bones. Black smoke wound through gaps in the concrete carcasses, and exhaled upon the cracked land. 

Eriadu City was a megastructure, one that somewhat resembled Coruscant, and was composed of hundreds of different levels. Its shield generator was hidden deep beneath the crust, and was the target of these Imperials. The nature of the shield prevented hovering vehicles or fast moving objects to pass through. 

Hence the need for ground troops in an age where a single Star Destroyer could ordinarily glass a city by itself. As such, Imperial walkers thundered in the distance, their steps were measured and unrelenting as they entered the city proper. Thousands of LAAT's landed outside of the transparent barrier, and released their troops before climbing the skies for more men. Heavy artillery walkers breached the shield's perimeter, and began blasting upon structures indiscriminately. 

Chaos ensued as the men of the Republic, those sworn to the Starcrusher Corp held fortified bunkers, and returned fire. Artillery pierced the air with high shrieks, and men died left and right as fighting took to the streets. 

In the shadows of the inner sector, the Imperials had found a gap, and a strike force battalion was making fierce headway towards the shield generator's location. 

Observing the enemy from upclose, within the auspices of stealth, Jax moved like a ghost.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His breath was calm, heart slow, and his mind quiet like the still surface of a lake on a moonless night. His white hair was dusted with ash, yet his face was pale, and free of any blemish. Blue eyes scanned the ruined intersection ahead, they saw burned-out speeders, and a fallen utility pole sparking. Bodies were sprawled out upon the cooling rubble, their uniforms marked them as Eriaduan militiamen. 

To his right, Tech signaled a halt, two fingers up, rifle low. Crosshair had already vanished into a ruined balcony above, his scope’s faint glow a silent watcher in the dark. Echo and Wrecker covered the flanks, while Hunter crouched beside Jax, nodding toward the collapsed stairwell ahead.

“Intel says the target’s nested in the building just ahead.” Hunter muttered. “A heavy machine gun nest is on our 2, and if I know my brothers, snipers will be on our 11.”

Jax simply nodded.

“I'm picking up something from the hacked comms. The enemy commander is being followed by an Inquisitor.” Echo spoke up. 

“The General briefed us on this possibility. Looks like a Dark Jedi might be prowling nearby. Check yourselves. If any of you feel your mind splitting, bite your tongue.” Hunter warned. 

“Let's go.” Jax whispered, and then took point. 

The Force whispered to Jax, and placed a pressure on his spine. Danger was near. Following his training, he reached out his hand, and concentrated on the darkness around him. Threads of power laced through him, weaving a shimmering veil over his form. In a blink, he vanished from sight.

He slipped through the debris-strewn street like vapor, bypassing a patrol of clone troopers, he [Mind Tricked] the squad leader to order the group to all look in a specific spot. 

When their attention was elsewhere, he unsheathed his lightsaber, and killed half of them. The remaining half were taken out by the Bad Batch with silenced weapons. This casual slaughter was hardly a footnote as he continued his trek. 

His keen observation drew his attention to a clone corpse lay half-hidden beneath a fallen awning. Wearing the vestment of a Starcrusher Corp member, the corpse had a broken visor, and a dozen other Imperial corpses surrounding him. 

Jax bowed his head, and muttered his thanks, yet he did not stop. He had a mission to accomplish, he could not disappoint his Master. 

As he advanced, he spotted the snipers and the machinegun nest. The Bad Batch-who had been wearing stealth generators-emerged from invisibility, and surgically removed their targets. 

‘Find the commander. Eliminate him. Make an exit.’ Jax thought to himself like it was a mantra. 

Their mission was to eliminate the company commander, and then devise a trap for this over extended battalion. 

Jax entered the building through a maintenance duct, and men ran by just beneath him as they rushed to investigate a nearby explosion. He froze in the tunnel, his heart slowed, and his breaths came out steadily as he waited for the unit to pass. 

Stillness. Patience. He embodied everything his Master had taught him. The essence of the Shadow enveloped his form, and dominated his psyche. From the darkness of the maintenance shaft, shadowy tentacles caressed his form as if he were a long lost lover. Jax, focused on his mission, didn't notice this at all.

He slipped into the main chamber, and scanned his surroundings. 

The commander was there, as was a masked figure in obsidian robes, their physique marked them as a woman. She was the Inquisitor that Tech had warned about. Jax could feel the cold bite of their presence like frost on his bones. Yet he was unafraid. 

He remained unseen.

Silently, he crouched in the rafters overhead, watching. Studying. The officer barked orders, unaware. The Inquisitor tilted her head, sensing something, but she seemed unaware. 

Jax inhaled slowly, calling the Force inward. Healing energy steadied his mind, dulled the ache in his muscles. He reached for his belt. The lightsaber remained unlit as he prepared to act. 

‘I am the blade of the Jedi. I am the keeper of the dark. I am the watcher of watchmen.’ Jax mentally reviewed a mantra his Master had imparted. His thoughts became clear, his focus sharp. 

An explosion rocked the building, forcing the Dark Adept to turn away, and the commander to cover his face as smoke rushed in. 

Jax took that as his cue, and he dropped to the floor. 

The Force cushioned his fall, hiding his presence. Silent as a ghost, he landed behind his target. The saber snapped to life, and cut an arc of brilliance through the uniformed man. One down. The Dark Adept-already on edge-swiped her red lightsaber at him, but Jax was already moving, and had jumped out the window. 

All this took no more than 10 seconds to execute. 

Jax rolled low as bolts of blue laserfire striking his shimmering [Energy Resistance] shield like rain on glass. He winced as the impact of the attacks made his weak shield to ripple, and a small scorching blow glanced off his ribs, charring them slightly. 

The act of killing the commander had broken his invisibility, and now the remainder of the battalion was beginning to close on this position. 

Gasping in slight pain, Jax lamented that he did not have more time to study under his Master. ‘If only I had met Master Corvus as a youngling initiate.’ 

“You’re not Revan.” the Inquisitor sneered as she jumped down from the building. “Just some dog.” 

He said nothing, and clutching his side, knew he could either heal or turn invisible. He chose to vanish. 

Hunter’s voice came over the comms:  “Target eliminated?”

“Confirmed.” Jax replied softly.

“Good. That Inquisitor looked mighty pissed. I suggest we evac, Commander.” Hunter said as he grimly looked on at the advancing enemy battalion. 

They took out the head of the snake, now they just had to lure the rest of the beasts into the cage. 

“Make it so.” Jax whispered. 

“Hahaha, those chrome brains gonna go boom!” Wrecker jeered. 

The building detonated behind them, courtesy of Wrecker's explosive charges. Crosshair picked off the advancing Imperials from three blocks away. Tech took point, and used his helmet's HUD to guide them towards the ambush sight. 

Jax brought up the rear, unseen. Unharmed.

He looked back once, at the flame-wreathed skyline of Eriadu, at the corpses of traitors and the men he had once more decided to place his trust in. 

In his silence, there was a vow.

They would hold. 

The shadows surrounding his feet trembled with an unknown glee, as if they had a life of their own, and anticipated the white haired teen's next move. 

Boots thundered down the shattered streets of Eriadu City, to the sound of thousands of Imperial clone troopers marching. Their white armor was stained gray with ash and blood. Alarms wailed in the distance, and the air shook as artillery thumped all around them. 

Republic ARC-170'S and LAAT's-ships that had been deployed from inside the city-wide shield-constantly harassed the Imperials, and pressed them into a certain location. If the commander had been alive, he would have known this was a trap. However, with an Inquisitor at the helm, retreat was not an option. 

The Inquisitor moved with relentless hunger, her red lightsaber constantly moved as she reflected blasterbolts, and used her own troopers as meat shields for those attacks she couldn't block. Her mask only covered the lower half of her face, meanwhile, her eyes glowed yellow, and were full of hate. 

She snarled when she realized he was going to get away. 

“Faster, faster! We must kill the Jedi! Emperor Palpatine demands it!” She urged the clone troopers at her side to move forward with a reckless abandon that no military commander would ever condone. 

Jax turned a corner and slowed. The alley ahead was long, narrow, choked in debris and flanked by the leaning corpses of fallen buildings. The sky overhead flared with distant fire, and the wind ruffled his hair. 

At the alley's end, he turned deliberately,  dropped the veil of invisibility, and flared his presence in the Force. 

There he stood, silent and still, his cortosis-weave robes singed were reforged by Master Corvus, and his mechanical hands gripped his lightsaber tightly. As he waited for the Inquisitor, he regarded these gifts left to him by the man he recognized as the hope of the Order. One day, he would surpass his Master in the healing artes, and recreate his missing limbs. Only then would he feel as if he had lived up to Master Corvus's care and expectations. 

After some time had passed, the Inquisitor emerged from the gloom cast by the shade of nearby skyscrapers, and skidded to a halt twenty meters away. Her boots splashed in a puddle of ash and oil, and her eyes narrowed as something didn't seem quite right. Behind her, a white flood of clone troopers poured into the alley, blasters raised, their rifles gleamed with the promise of death.

She lifted her saber but did not charge.

“Finally.” She breathed, voice laced with amusement and venom. “You crawl out from the shadows to die in the light. Brave. Or foolish. You Jedi rejected me, claiming I did not possess the gift. If you beg in the mud, I might just spare you.”

Jax said nothing. At that moment, the wind in the city street moved around him as if afraid to touch him.

The Inquisitor tilted her head. “What are you supposed to be? A Padawan with delusions of grandeur? You think silence makes you strong?”

Still, he did not speak.

And then a roar seemed to hum in the air. 

It was not a sound one heard with their  ears, but it was a presence. One felt by the body. By the soul. 

Something vast, ancient and primal entered the imaginations of all those present. 

The Force twisted.

And they all felt it.

From somewhere unseen, from some depth inside Jax that even he did not fully understand, he reached. Dredging up the memory of something titanic, something old and beyond understanding, Jax pulled upon the echo of a beast that refused to die quietly. 

The aura of the Zilo Beast-a monster born in the heart of Malastare’s cataclysm, impervious to fire, to blades, to the wear of time, answered his call.

The Force bent around him, shaking the ground, and an invisible pressure pressed down upon the minds of the Imperial battalion. 

Experiencing this tyranny, this aura of majesty, the Imperial clone troopers hesitated. Fingers on triggers faltered. Heart rates accelerated. A few in the front rank dropped their weapons, their minds overwhelmed by an animal terror, the kind no training or time spent in the simulator could prepare a man for. 

Jax’s eyes blazed white, glowing like glacial suns, twin shards of winter in a burning world.

The Inquisitor took a step forward, a scowl was beneath her mask as she raised her lightsaber high. 

But when she met his eyes-truly met them-her breath hitched, and her body shook all over. 

The fury in her hand dimmed, her saber clattered to the ground, and the hunger for revenge gave way for confusion. Her muscles refused her command, and her feet were rooted to the duracrete.

“No…” She whispered, voice cracking.

Behind her, the stormtroopers didn’t advance. They couldn’t. 

That oily substance that coated the street had slowly been building up this entire time, unnoticed seemingly by all. 

Jax, however, held a lighter in his hand. His eyes were cold and unblinking as he stared the Inquisitor down. Feeling the strain of this technique build within his body, he could barely move as he lifted his arm. 

Several times he clicked his thumb along the lighter, trying to build a flame. Each click made the Inquisitor flinch. Blood was dripping down her chin, as she had bit her tongue off and was using pain to mask her fear. Yet it was too late. Jax had levitated the lighter into the puddle of oil. 

The ensuing explosions weren’t elegant. They were from Wrecker’s design and were brutal, overwhelming, and left nothing behind. The supports beneath the street buckled, and fire spiraled into the sky as a chain of detonations roared outward.

Hunter’s voice snapped over the comm:

“Now, Jax. Fall back!”

But Jax didn’t move.

Not yet.

He held the Inquisitor’s gaze for one final moment.

She tried to lift her foot. Her saber. Her hand.

But her body betrayed her.

The ancient terror Jax had invoked was too heavy.

Too real. 

She was locked in place, not only by the Force alone, but by a fear etched into the core of her being. 

And then the inferno consumed her.

The alley vanished in the roar of fire and falling duracrete. The Imperial clone troopers screamed as the blast devoured them, and the advance that had found a ‘gap’ in the Republic troops’ defense had been plugged. An entire battalion of men-50,000 souls in total-had been led into an area rigged with explosives, and any shellshocked stragglers were being decimated by overwhelming air superiority. 

Jax emerged from the far side of the wreckage, his robes were pristine, and he appeared the very image of a saint. 

Several nearby Starcrusher Corpsmen saluted, their backs were rimrod straight. If one could see the expressions underneath their helmets, one might catch a glimpse of fleeting fear. 

Wrecker whooped. “That was a good one!”

Tech adjusted his visor, and added in a clinical tone: “Seismic readings indicate a structural collapse over three city blocks. Effective.”

“Inquisitor’s gone.” Crosshair muttered. 

Echo reached a hand toward Jax for a high-five, but paused when he saw the look in his eyes.

Hunter stepped forward, voice low. “You alright, Ghost?”

Jax finally spoke-his voice barely above a whisper. 

“What's next?” 

Hunter studied him, searching for any mental flaws or deficiencies. Finding none, he nodded. “For now, sleep. A good soldier knows when to get some shut eye. Follow me Commander.”

They moved into the darkness once more, vanishing into the skeletal ruins of Eriadu.

~~~~~~~

After some hours had passed, Jax found himself sitting alone beneath a collapsed service archway, knees drawn up, his eyes half-closed. A single glow rod flickered nearby, its light painted sharp lines across his pale skin. The others-Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, Echo, and Crosshair-were nearby, resting, whispering tactics, rearming themselves or catching some much needed sleep. 

As for Jax, he was deep in meditation as he tried to calm himself down after invoking the aura of the Zilo beast. 

The Force moved through him like a deep ocean current, it was slow, heavy, and cold. It dragged his psyche backward through time, into the places he didn’t dare dwell when awake. But tonight, sleep would not come.

He didn’t want this, yet the Force pressed upon him, showing him the truths he had locked away. 

He saw her again.

His best friend. 

Her laugh had been sunlight through trees, and her constant chatty nature had gone well with his silent contemplation. When he'd rather be in the training grounds, she dragged him on adventures. When he'd be studying some manuscript, she stole his books, and played hide-and seek. She’d been his best friend since they were Initiates, bold where he was quiet, bright where he was introspective.

Gone, dead in his hands. 

Shot in the back by the same clones who used to ruffle her hair and call her “Little Jedi.” She had reached for him in the Force with a final flare of panic, and then she vanished. Her presence had disappeared, just like that. 

Then there was his Master-Master Korven-the only Jedi Jax had ever truly trusted. He was a gentle man who never raised his voice and always knew when Jax was spiraling downward, and understood his silences.

Korven had died earlier in the war protecting refugee shuttles. His presence had been strong, and then his seemingly boundless strength was not enough.

Jax had wandered for days after that. Starving himself, silent to the world. But hope had forced itself upon him from the most unlikely of people. 

Master Corvus. Or depending on who asked, Revan. 

Jax had smiled again. The joy of life once more met his icy eyes. Once more, he experienced the feeling of belonging. Of brotherhood. 

Unfortunately, war was his destiny. He had learnt much from his Master, but much more than fantastical abilities, or outlandish powers, he appreciated the philosophy that Master Corvus had imparted. That embracing one's own emotions was not sinful. This paradigm shift in the way he thought had unlocked his potential. People often thought he didn't feel at all due to his desire for quiet, and the few words he spoke. In reality, he felt deeply, his silence was a defense mechanism lest he become too close to others, and encounter the pain of losing a loved one. 

Then, the Zilo Beast had ‘found’ him during his trip to Malastare. The echo of the beast, of a lost and tragic dynasty of majesty had been imparted upon him through the Force. 

It was a legacy without words or even any thoughts. Just pain. Rage. Betrayal. The memory of a creature called into war it did not start. Murdered for its power. Feared for its nearly impervious skin. He had seen through its eyes, felt the plasma bolts skitter across its tough hide, lived its highest highs, its lowest lows. And the remnant spirit of the Zilo beast-a creature born with the Force no lesser than a Master on the Jedi Council-had accepted him. 

Since then, it had never left him.

It lived in his silence. In the stillness between his thoughts. In the ice that crept through his veins when traitors and enemies wished him dead. 

He didn’t speak of it. He couldn’t describe the sensation to others, not really. 

Broken from his meditation, he sensed Hunter approaching. Crouching in the dust across from him, the long haired clone looked him in the eye. 

“You’re quiet tonight.” Hunter said gently. “Quieter than usual, I mean.”

Jax didn’t answer immediately. His eyes remained closed, his breath slow.

Then, when he was about to respond, he felt something terribly terribly wrong. Those visions of the past he had just experienced…they had been a warning. 

He reached out with the Force in desperation, trying to tug on his Bond, yet it was like trying to support a castle made of sand with his hands, and the feeling slipped through his fingers. 

‘Yon.’

The only other survivor of their clan. An annoyance and pest. His rival and brother. 

And now- 

He too was gone.

Jax’s eyes slowly opened. The cerulean light in them carried hints of frost. Something ancient and vast looked through them now, and even Hunter leaned back a step.

Tiny flakes of frost dusted the tips of Jax’s white hair, and his breath was cold. 

“He’s gone.” Jax said, voice low, almost numb. “Yon….”

Hunter frowned. “Dead?”

“Maybe…”  He answered, then paused as he considered the odd feeling he was experiencing.

Hunter’s mouth tightened. He looked down, silently processing what Jax had said. “I’m sorry.”

Jax rose to his feet. He didn’t look at Hunter when he spoke next.

“We won’t sleep tonight.”

Hunter blinked. “You sure? You haven’t rested in-”

“The Imperials don’t know what’s coming. They think we’re prey. That the Jedi are some religious cult bent on destruction. A cancer to society to be purged.” 

He finally turned, locking eyes with Hunter.

“They’re wrong.”

Hunter's mouth went dry, and for the briefest of seconds, he wondered if they were the ‘bad guys.’ He had seen a lot of things in his life. He’d stared down certain doom, watched brothers die, seen worlds fall, and been forced to retreat as Grievous almost single handedly butchered a Legion. 

But in that moment, under the cold moonlight, in the broken streets of a dying city, he felt something he hadn’t in years.

He felt small.

Jax’s next words chilled the tunnel air:

“The beast remembers, and it hungers. Come along, Hunter.”

As the smoke of war settled and the city accepted the darkness of midnight, the echo of an ancient fear lingered, haunting the edges of the Force, warning those who dared chase the Jedi that some prey is not meant to be hunted.