It was a massacre that was left behind his trail, his onslaught raged throughout the Imperial detention center. The Dark Empire shattered with the absence of the Emperor, though it did not break Creuat’s loyalty in the Emperor’s mission. Many doubt it, but his resurgence was inevitable and Creuat’s faith would be rewarded unlike many others. Naturally, different ambitions within the Empire’s ranks were pursued and one particular warlord had something of great interest to the Nautolan and his liege.
The Son of the Sword.
It was a bit disappointing to see Kyric captured by such…unworthy foes compared his power. Luck favored the Imperials regardless of how it came to be. Now what mattered was the present and seizing this great asset for the Emperor.
All the other prisoners would be curious to know what was the commotion, but Kyric would know. He would definitely feel the Nautolan’s presence and felt it heavier as he inched closer and closer to the boy.
This particular day in Mining Facility 36-A initially felt like any other to Kyric Karis. He awoke two hours before the other inmates and fell into his morning meditations; those being the forms of his favored combat styles. Without a saber or stand-in for the weapon, the Kid used to feel silly swinging an invisible blade through the air of his cell, but those feelings abated once visions of darker places were visited upon him in the night. The imprisoned Jedi struggled to ascertain the cause at first. He agonized over them, as if the nightmares promised him an answer to his plight.
But days turned to weeks. Weeks to months. And soon enough, Kyric accepted them for what they were: a reminder. She was still out there somewhere. Floating around from bar to bar, taking on excessively dangerous jobs for reasons alien to the kiffar. So, Kyric shifted focus. He learned not to fear the emotions that flowed through him and back from his bonded other-half. They quickly became a lifeline, his only connection to a world outside four slate-gray walls.
Once finished with forms, Kyric stepped up to the tiny hatch on the wall where the guards slipped him his food. When the hatch opened and Trooper 4387 met the kiffar's gaze, the soldier didn't even flinch. Not anymore, anyway. They abandoned trying to discern how Kyric stood there waiting for them every time. To them, he was just another prisoner with the mumbo-jumbo powers.
Kyric downed his meal in the few precious moments of peace before his shift. The cortosis mines weren't the most unpleasant experience for the kiffar. His body was well-managed, as those overseeing the facility demanded capable and efficient workers—dying men made for unskilled laborers, after all.
Midway through Kyric's shift he felt it.
Fear. Anger. Death.
A flash of crimson carving through the white-plated armor of a stormtrooper forced itself into Kyric's mind like a parasite. Another came six seconds later, accompanied by the callous smile of an old enemy.
"
Shit." Kyric turned to the nearest worker. "
Hey, Lobi," he snapped his fingers to get the bith's attention. The alien turned its big, rounded eyes on Kyric with an alien expression the kiffar couldn't ascertain.
"
What is it, kid?"
Kyric sought out the closest prison guard or site overseer. Confident neither would hear him, the Jedi leaned closer to his fellow prisoner. "
Remember when I told you the only way we'd get out of here is with the help of a Jedi Master?"
"
Uh-huh," Lobi nodded. "
You manage to call one with your force phone?"
"
What?" Kyric chuckled. "
That's no- doesn't matter. No, I didn't." The kiffar returned the tiny laser pointer he used to mark excavation points for the mining droid overhead into his miner's belt. In the same motion, he deftly slipped a code-breaker from the same thin pouch. "
This place is about to be a battlefield. There's a master of the dark side cutting his way through the perimeter guards as we spe-" Kyric's voice caught in his throat as another vision of the massacre appeared behind his eyes.
A TIE-fighter crashed into the side of a sniper's nest in a screeching-collision. All five stormtrooper's perished in the explosion, their lives disappearing like tiny blips from a radar in Kyric's minds-eye. When his vision returned to the mine, the Jedi realized he'd since fallen to his knees, a hand clutched to the side of his head where a thin stream of blood ran from his ear.
"
Feth, Kyric," Lobi dragged the smaller man up to his feet. "
You're serious."
Kyric nodded grimly and handed the device to his friend. "
When shit hits the fan—not if, Lobi. WHEN—I want you to round up as many people you think we can trust, convince 'em to follow you, and break through to the transport dock. It's the fifteenth of the standard month. There will be a ship that can get us off-world and into atmosphere."
Lobi stared incredulously at Kyric for several seconds. Kyric suspected he wanted to argue with him, but the kiffar knew his friend hadn't stepped foot outside the facility in nearly twenty years. This might've been his one and only out. And the Jedi would bet on freedom ten out of ten times.
"
Sithspit," Lobi literally spit. "
Fine. When is this gonna kick o-"
An explosion ripped through the facility. Lights flickered. Within seconds, the robotic voice of the facility's AI sounded over the speakers.
"
Attention all prisoners. Mining Facility 36-A is currently under attack. Please line up in an orderly fashion for transport back to your cells."
Kyric grinned up at his friend. "
It's Prime-Time, baby."
Bonded Force Users:
Bernard
|
Capris Halcyon
|
Lord Creuat
