Shortly after the events of Blackest Night...
Starlin was surprised the lift was still working while the facility around it was burning. The Mawite raid on the no-longer-so-secret Jakku Jedi Enclave had taken a turn for the worse, and it was now clear to the young Knight that they weren’t going to be able to hold off the Sith attack. Starlin himself had narrowly escaped a duel to the death against a twisted shapeshifter in the lower levels. His body ached with ionization burns from the Sith’s lightning and other wounds she had dealt him.
Leaning against the wall of the elevator, he waited impatiently for the doors to open, lurching forward as soon as the gap was wide enough for him to fit through. An explosion down the corridor to the left had his ears ringing, while flashes of red in his right periphery warned of a firefight. Injured and weakened, every instinct screamed at him to avoid these dangers. But his self-preservation was overcome by the desire to help.
He charged in, lightsaber and shoto blazing. Six Mawite soldiers accompanying two Sith Knights greeted him with a fanfare of blaster fire. Calling upon the Force for strength, Starlin made short work of the troops, deflecting their shots back at them and lopping off arms, legs, and heads.
In the meantime, the two Sith were locked in battle against a lone Padawan. While he had his lightsaber drawn, the Padawan wasn’t using it much. Instead he battered his foes with the Force, creating whirlwinds that picked them up and tossed them around and icing the floor to cause them to slip and fall. These tricks, while creative, would only delay the inevitable.
Starlin telekinetically seized one of the Sith, a blonde woman, and dragged her away in hopes of taking some of the pressure off the Padawan. He had learned very quickly just how vicious these Mawite Sith were—one was more than enough to give you a run for your money. Enraged, the blonde lunged at him, slamming her blade into his with such force and speed he barely had a chance to parry. But he matched her blow for blow until he finally turned the tables, gaining the upper hand. The fight was over in less than a minute.
Maybe not quite fast enough. As Starlin plunged his lightsaber through her heart, he heard a cry of pain from the Padawan. The stench of burning flesh reached his nostrils as he charged at the remaining Sith, impaling him through the back.
The Padawan was lying on the ground, clutching his middle. “Aw, chit.” Starlin deactivated his blades in order to examine him. A nasty gash had sliced open the Padawan’s abdomen. Though it had the distinctive charred and bloodless appearance of a lightsaber wound, it had cut deep.
“He got me,” the Padawan whimpered. “He got me…”
“Hey, hey, you’re not dead yet.” Luckily Starlin had picked up a medkit along the way, for all the good it would do. He quickly dressed the Padawan’s wound, trying to at least prevent his guts from spilling out. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Exit’s just down the hall. What’s your name?”
“Oukranos,” the Padawan mumbled. “Why are you dressed like that?”
Starlin glanced down at his scorched blue pajamas and filthy white socks. “It’s what I was wearing when the alarms went off. I’m Starlin. Starlin Rand.” Having done what he could, he reached down and helped Oukranos to his feet. “Can you walk? Who am I kidding, hell no you can’t. Hang on to me.”
Starlin was already lightheaded again, but if he stopped now, they’d both be dead. So he drew upon the Force one last time and staggered out of the room. From there his memory got a little foggy. He remembered making his way down the smoke-filled corridor toward the exit. Hot dry air hit his scorched flesh as the doors slid open, along with screams of pain and shouted orders across the courtyard, which had been transformed into a battlefield strewn with corpses. Spindly black silhouettes darted in the darkness. Sithspawn monstrosities were terrorizing the reinforcements that had come to help defend the Enclave.
Spells spilled from Starlin’s lips, wards against the Dark Side and other protections. It was probably the only thing that kept them from being killed instantly by the monstrous creatures. But the strain on Starlin’s body was getting to be too much as his injuries caught up with him. “Medic!” he croaked, stumbling and finally falling to his knees in the dust. “Feth…”
Then hands were touching him, prying Oukranos from his grasp. Disoriented, he tried to fight to keep him, but he had nothing left in the tank. Starlin himself was hauled up and away by strong arms. Distantly he heard the rumble of engines and saw the bright lights of a starship, before his vision clouded over and he slipped into unconsciousness.
Starlin was surprised the lift was still working while the facility around it was burning. The Mawite raid on the no-longer-so-secret Jakku Jedi Enclave had taken a turn for the worse, and it was now clear to the young Knight that they weren’t going to be able to hold off the Sith attack. Starlin himself had narrowly escaped a duel to the death against a twisted shapeshifter in the lower levels. His body ached with ionization burns from the Sith’s lightning and other wounds she had dealt him.
Leaning against the wall of the elevator, he waited impatiently for the doors to open, lurching forward as soon as the gap was wide enough for him to fit through. An explosion down the corridor to the left had his ears ringing, while flashes of red in his right periphery warned of a firefight. Injured and weakened, every instinct screamed at him to avoid these dangers. But his self-preservation was overcome by the desire to help.
He charged in, lightsaber and shoto blazing. Six Mawite soldiers accompanying two Sith Knights greeted him with a fanfare of blaster fire. Calling upon the Force for strength, Starlin made short work of the troops, deflecting their shots back at them and lopping off arms, legs, and heads.
In the meantime, the two Sith were locked in battle against a lone Padawan. While he had his lightsaber drawn, the Padawan wasn’t using it much. Instead he battered his foes with the Force, creating whirlwinds that picked them up and tossed them around and icing the floor to cause them to slip and fall. These tricks, while creative, would only delay the inevitable.
Starlin telekinetically seized one of the Sith, a blonde woman, and dragged her away in hopes of taking some of the pressure off the Padawan. He had learned very quickly just how vicious these Mawite Sith were—one was more than enough to give you a run for your money. Enraged, the blonde lunged at him, slamming her blade into his with such force and speed he barely had a chance to parry. But he matched her blow for blow until he finally turned the tables, gaining the upper hand. The fight was over in less than a minute.
Maybe not quite fast enough. As Starlin plunged his lightsaber through her heart, he heard a cry of pain from the Padawan. The stench of burning flesh reached his nostrils as he charged at the remaining Sith, impaling him through the back.
The Padawan was lying on the ground, clutching his middle. “Aw, chit.” Starlin deactivated his blades in order to examine him. A nasty gash had sliced open the Padawan’s abdomen. Though it had the distinctive charred and bloodless appearance of a lightsaber wound, it had cut deep.
“He got me,” the Padawan whimpered. “He got me…”
“Hey, hey, you’re not dead yet.” Luckily Starlin had picked up a medkit along the way, for all the good it would do. He quickly dressed the Padawan’s wound, trying to at least prevent his guts from spilling out. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Exit’s just down the hall. What’s your name?”
“Oukranos,” the Padawan mumbled. “Why are you dressed like that?”
Starlin glanced down at his scorched blue pajamas and filthy white socks. “It’s what I was wearing when the alarms went off. I’m Starlin. Starlin Rand.” Having done what he could, he reached down and helped Oukranos to his feet. “Can you walk? Who am I kidding, hell no you can’t. Hang on to me.”
Starlin was already lightheaded again, but if he stopped now, they’d both be dead. So he drew upon the Force one last time and staggered out of the room. From there his memory got a little foggy. He remembered making his way down the smoke-filled corridor toward the exit. Hot dry air hit his scorched flesh as the doors slid open, along with screams of pain and shouted orders across the courtyard, which had been transformed into a battlefield strewn with corpses. Spindly black silhouettes darted in the darkness. Sithspawn monstrosities were terrorizing the reinforcements that had come to help defend the Enclave.
Spells spilled from Starlin’s lips, wards against the Dark Side and other protections. It was probably the only thing that kept them from being killed instantly by the monstrous creatures. But the strain on Starlin’s body was getting to be too much as his injuries caught up with him. “Medic!” he croaked, stumbling and finally falling to his knees in the dust. “Feth…”
Then hands were touching him, prying Oukranos from his grasp. Disoriented, he tried to fight to keep him, but he had nothing left in the tank. Starlin himself was hauled up and away by strong arms. Distantly he heard the rumble of engines and saw the bright lights of a starship, before his vision clouded over and he slipped into unconsciousness.
