Location: Junction Plaza, Between Districts Eleven and Twelve.
Objective: Protect the Innocent.
Allies: Unknown. (The Galactic Republic Armed Forces and the Jedi Order.)
Enemies: The Yuuzhan Vong.
With a clenched fist, drawn forth from the advantageous blanket of surprise, Vor'en struck out at the Invader, catching him unawares and in the throat as he turned towards the sudden appearance of the Jedi. His windpipe would recover, but it would deny him the chance to alert his brothers in arms. The amphistaff hissed in his hands, coiling about the Yuuzhan Vong's wrist to strike, as its Master had brought his hands up to guard his wounded flesh. Bereft of the lethargic talons of hesitation, the Kel Dor lashed out before the amphistaff had gathered the strength to attack, catching the coiling serpent beneath its fanged maw, just like the ones he had dealt with moments prior. It would've been a simple matter for him to snap the organic weapon's neck, and leave it attached to its master so that it may recover in due time. However, there was a certain voice that lingered in the back of his thoughts. The ever-present whispers of his demons and the darkness they represented, that wished for him to meet out his own brand of vigilante Justice. There was nothing anyone could do to stop him from acting out in vengeance. These vile creatures had slain countless thousands over the years, who was to say that they didn't deserve a fraction of what they dished out? Even as tempting as the thought was, the Kel Dor looked back onto how he had dealt with the seemingly mindless Chazrach, and how Hollow their deaths had left him. He didn't want to feel that way again, not anytime soon at least.
As yet another Sentry had joined the rising pile of disabled guards, the Jedi moved towards the gaping maw of the crimson-hewn portal that would admit him into the Slave ship proper. A blood-curdling shriek had halted him in his track, forcing his gaze towards its point of origin. When he had laid his silvered eyes upon the source of the howl, his heart had sunk ever so slightly. It was the warrior that he had dismembered and left alive. How could he have been so blind? He should've taken him out like the rest. A swift kick to the throat whilst he was down would've ensured his silence, yet the mere thought of striking someone when they were down was abhorrent to the Kel Dor. Now, the entire makeshift compound had known there was an intruder, and his timeframe had become infinitely smaller than he had hoped. It was likely that the vessel would lift off and flee the surface before he had the chance to board the craft. That couldn't happen. Once that Slave Ship was airborne, everyone that was forced into its hold would be as good as dead - and Vor'en couldn't live with such a sinful stain marring his conscious. Thus, with the sensation of determination steeling his resolve, and preparing him for what he may have to do, the Jedi rushed towards the fangless maw of the coral-studded Detention Vessel.
It was at that yawning egress that the young Padawan had found himself beset on all sides by the sounds of torment echoing from within. He could feel their agony resonating through the Force, leaving the Jedi with the hoar of frost icing the fringes of his ethereal perception. It spread across his spiritual being and assaulted his metaphysical defences in the hopes of worming past into the supple matter beneath. Vor'en breathed out and willed himself to calm, banishing the talons of raw emotions clawing at the surface of his mind with a thought. That was something he had learned from his former Master, to aid his feeble mind in dealing with the raw and empathic attunement with the Force that the Kel Dor had displayed in his formative years. Having overcome the transcendental rime that assaulted his guarded intellect, Vor'en's focus snapped back into reality - only to find that he now stood before a hulking slab of pallid flesh and obsidian carapace. The massive figure stood on a small mound of formed Yorik-coral with his arms held wide open.
In one enormous fist, he held the undulating form of an Amphistaff, which in turn had lovingly wrapped around his sloping musculature of his arm. Within the embrace of his other hand, undoubtedly his dominant by the Kel Dor's guess, there was a wickedly curved and brutally spiked blade. The surface of the sword was polished ivory, akin to the freshly scoured bone of some poor creature, and was utterly porous in its aesthetic. And the way it shimmered in the bioluminescent light suggested that something coated the weapon, a paralytic toxin perhaps? Nevertheless, Vor'en knew that if he was cut by that poisoned edge, he was as good as dead.
"I am called Yammah Q'aah, Jeedai, and across hundreds of worlds and thousands of battles, many of your Kind hath fallen prey beneath my blade's deadly smile. You shall join them, as one of the reviled dead."
When the creature spoke in his guttural butchery of the Basic tongue, small trails of spittle stippled across his heavily scarred cheeks. That was an unsurprising attribute, as upon closer inspection, much of the musculature that formed the interconnected weave of flesh was missing. A grisly wound that still marked him to this day, and from how it had healed - it was likely inflicted by a plasmatic weapon.
"If I am to die, then that is the Will of the Force. Nothing is certain, no matter how much we wish it to be. Violence begets only Violence, and I shall not fight you."
The Warrior smiled, darkly.
"The Path I walk, Jeedai, is to be one with the Yun'O once more. Why do you think that the Children of Yun-Yuuzhan have purged themselves of Sekot's heresy and vanished from your Unholy sight once more? Violence is our way of life, Jeedai. So if you won't fight me, then you'll die. Slowly."
That was a curious statement, one that caused the Jedi to probe more. There was a chance, no matter how slim it might be, that he could divine the reasoning behind why these Yuuzhan Vong had once again been separated from the Force. He had to take it, and hopefully in the process, dissuade the imposing Warrior of resorting to violence.
"I'll admit, I was curious how your bonds had been severed. Have the Sith done something to you and your kind, or have the Shapers finally pushed themselves beyond the scope of imagination and somehow managed to manipulate life itself?"
Yammah laughed, then. It's boisterous echo reverberated throughout the studded coral corridor and filled his surface thoughts with the impression of arrogance and sarcasm coating each thunderous guffaw.
"That is an answer; I'm afraid your Infidel mind could not comprehend."
Evidently annoyed by the Kel Dor's plan to distract him into having a lengthy conversation about the recent history's of the Yuuzhan Vong, Yammah readied his blade by bringing it closer towards his exposed core. Forming a semblance of a guarded stance that would be able to react to whatever the Padawan followed through with, the Warrior held his Amphistaff in reserve, should the Jeedai somehow manage to breach through his defenses.
"Enough talk, Jeedai. I know why you have come here. You have come from my Slaves, no? So take them, if you can."
Yammah had tried to bait the young Jedi into acting first, but alas, Vor'en knew better and held his ground.
"I already told you. I don't want to fight."
The Kel Dor intoned, every facet of his expressions had been hidden behind his filtration mask and spectacles, denying his enemy the chance to see the fires of determination flickering within his silvered irises.
"But you will, for there is no other way this can end."
The arrogance flowing through the Warrior's veins had swarmed towards his lips, twisting his ruined face into a mocking snarl. Vor'en's shoulder slumped ever so slightly, as he telegraphed his disappointment. He didn't want to fight. He didn't even want to disable the Sentries outside. However, innocent lives were in danger, and he had to do something to save them from a fate worse than death.
So this is how it starts.
"There is always another way."
The battle began in the blink of an eye. For all of his bulk, and for all of his strength, the Yuuzhan Vong Warrior swept his wickedly curved blade in a deadly arc, one that was intent on cleaving the Kel Dor Jedi in two. Melting underneath the sword's killing smile, the Jedi readied himself for the next attack. If he were not to fight this Imposing Warrior, then he'd tire him out as quickly as possible and subdue him thereafter. That was the only path where he could see himself walking away from this encounter, with his dignity intact. Every mighty sweep of the Vongformed Blade had sliced through nothing but stale air, as the Jedi wove himself under and beside every killing blow. He did his best to utilize the perfect economy of movement, expending the least amount of energy to deny his foe of the desired result. Every slash, Every riposte, Vor'en had bent and swayed - like a leaf on the wind. He could see beads of sweat begun to run down the length of the man's pallid and hairless skull, showing the Exemplar that the Warrior had started to tire, and that he was but one step closer to his goal. Keep it up; He told himself as he ducked under yet another vicious strike. As the Jedi righted himself, the Amphistaff shot forward, snake fast, and had nearly torn his anti-tox mask from his face. That, He thought as he held the Organic weapon beneath its bulbous head, Was close. In the seconds, before the angered Warrior had severed the Kel Dor's arm, the Amphistaff was cast back towards his Master, and a disengaging step was taken backward.
"I know there is no way to turn you from this zealous path, but let the Denonites go," Vor'en had said, before following it up moments later with an alternative that had crossed his mind. "And take me in their stead."
The hulking warrior withdrew his blade. Breathing heavily, it seemed like he was considering the offer. That was before he started to laugh once again, this time - it was far from haughty. In fact, it almost sounded like Yammah was amused.
"No. They were - are weak, and thus by that right alone, they have become enslaved to my Brothers and I. Their fate, like yours, is sealed. No matter what the future holds, you will die in the end." He spat a gobbet of muscus filled saliva onto the ground and adorned his face once more with that wicked grin. "Enough Prattle! Face me Cur, or flee forever shamed in the face of whatever gods you hold true!"
The man was blinded by faith and had resolved to kill the Jedi by any means necessary. If the others were anything like him, and with the recorded past of the Yuuzhan Vong having passed into Legends, it was most likely that they were just as zealous in their praise of the Yun'O - if not more. When the Kel Dor had spoken, his voice was flecked with sorrow and cast outwards in that sonorous monotone provided by his mask.
"Very well."
Withdrawing his Master's weapon, and igniting the ochre plasmatic edge, the Jedi prepared himself for another assault. It came in the blink of an eye, and porous Vongformed enamel had crashed into a bright beam of topaz light. Again and again, the two blades met, carving intricate patterns in the still air as they kissed with the clash of energy and bone. His organic sword held out well against the contained flare of superheated plasma, leaving the Jedi to think that something had grown within the heart of that weapon to make it an equivalent to machined Cortosis. Perhaps if they had met under different circumstances, he could've learned how such a magnificent blade had come into being. Instead, he melted underneath another horizontal slash and brought his saber up to bear. Had he been intent on slaying the man, and if his torso hadn't been protected by the Obsidian Carapace of the Vonduun Crab, the hulking Warrior would've been dead. There were several points amidst their deadly duel that he could've exploited. However, Vor'en refused to take another life and thus let such opportunities pass him by.
The Jedi became blind to all that occurred around him. His life was now in the moment. Every sweeping strike was easily parried, and every killing blow had been swiftly deflected. Nothing could break his guard, or so he had thought. As his lightsaber had swept low to counter his foe, the Amphistaff struck out, seeking to envenom its Master's prey so that the final blow to end the duel could be struck. The Jedi reacted with his off-hand, channeling his will through his taloned fingers and denying the creature of its prize. With the unseen wind casting the genetically engineered snake back, it's poisoned fangs sunk into the vulnerable flesh of the hulking warrior and dropped him to his knees in the blink of an eye.
Sapped of the will to fight, the Amphistaff withdrew its curved barbs from the Yuuzhan Vong's flesh and retreated into the shadows. While the Jedi couldn't read what the creature had felt, just by sight alone, Vor'en knew that it shared his sorrow. Extinguishing his plasmatic weapon and affixing it to his belt, the Jedi knelt down beside the fallen warrior and grasped the man's hand.
"I told you that I didn't wish to fight." He paused to look down the length of the man's figure, all the while wishing there was something he could do to remove the venom and save the man's life. But, alas, he had been forcibly removed from the benevolence of the Force, and when the Kel Dor had peered beyond that veil, he saw only darkness residing before him. "I am truly sorry that this has come to pass. Please forgive me."
Yammah managed to spit out a choking laugh, as his eyes stared into the featureless slits of the Exemplar's protective spectacles. Swallowing his distaste for the technological abominations he had worn across his face, the wounded and dying warrior managed to smile. This time, it wasn't amused or cavalier.
"You bested me when hundreds of your misbegotten Kind have fallen. I - I die knowing this, and my Pantheon is equally pleased that I passed in battle. Farewell, Master Jeedai."
The Kel Dor sighed.
"I'm no Master. Merely a Padawan, an Apprentice."
With the light of strength fading from Yammah's gaze, his last act is to laugh. That laughter was caught in his throat as the poison had finally seized the man's roaring heart, effectively ending his life - right before the Jedi's eyes.
"Be at peace, Brave Warrior."
Placing his hand atop the ailing Vonduun Carapace, and patting it's pallid surface with all the tenderly care of an old friend, the Son of Dorin roused himself from the Yorik-Coral deck, to see that his duel had drawn in quite the crowd. Dozens of Yuuzhan Vong Warriors stood as silent sentinels around their hulking comrade. Anger and rage filled their eyes, yet they knew that nothing but bloodshed would follow if they rushed forward. One had mouthed the word Ganner, but the Jedi could've easily mistaken it for something different. He was whispering to the man beside him after all, and the Kel Dor knew little of their alien language as it stood. Inhaling, Vor'en slowly began to turn and took in the sight of such a deadly gathering.
"I give to you the chance this Brave Warrior did not make. Lay down your arms, and let these people go. Too much blood has been spilled this day, and I do not wish for more to flow."
Every one of the gathered Warrior's grip tightens around their weapons as the Jedi had made his proclamation. They wanted to avenge their fallen comrade, and he could see it in their eyes. He was about to withdraw his weapon, to defend himself from whatever came, but the arrival of a Warrior - larger than all the rest and second only to the one that was slain - had stayed his reach. Like the one that had come before, this Child of the Yun'Yuuzhan was clad in the obsidian carapace of the Vonduun Crab and held an Amphistaff loosely in his clawed grip. His face was unmarked, save for the ritual piercings and tattoos that adorned his sloping features.
"I have seen what you have done, Jeedai. You honor our fallen with kindness and risk everything by repeating the offer you presented to our Subaltern. Tell me, before I give my answer. Why is it that you choose not to fight, as so many opted to do so before you?"
Silence hung heavily in the air as Vor'en considered the question. He wasn't entirely sure, as the exact reasoning itself seemed to be an elusive one whenever he had meditated upon the answer to this issue. What does it mean to be a Jedi, and Why do I choose not to fight when so many have quickly fallen prey to the swiftest route to a conflict's resolution? Standing before the embittered press of flesh and carapace, the Kel Dor looked towards the Warrior that had asked the question and held himself high. He knew why. It was always there, lurking on the edge of his consciousness, waiting for the right moment to be revealed.
"I decide to be different. I choose to be an Exemplar of all we can aspire to be, and not succumb to my demons. I am a Jedi, like those that come before me, and it is my duty - No - my life's work to safeguard and protect those that cannot stand for themselves - and to only resort to violence when no other path can be tread."
The nameless Warrior's lip pursed slightly, and as he approached, Vor'en could see by the subtle twitches in the man's facial features, that his answer had impressed him in some regard.
"Such a heavy burden for one so young."
Vor'en nodded.
"Yes, I carry the heavy mantle of responsibility, but in the end, I know that I don't shoulder this burden alone. Others will follow in my footsteps once the way forward had been shown."
The Warrior smiled and placed a taloned hand atop the Kel Dor's shoulder. It was an all too familiar gesture, one that he had grown accustomed to when his Master had been One with the Living, rather than One with the Force. So, as the taloned hand pressed into the fabric of his soot-stained Tunic, Vor'en had felt a flicker of joy surge through his veins.
"Well said. Were you born under a different sky and into the divine race, You would have made a fine Priest. Let us know you, Jeedai, so that we may meet again, under different circumstances."
The Jedi tilted his head to the side, ever so slightly. A universal gesture employed by those that were bereft of humanoid mouths to telegraph their pleasant, and polite mannerisms.
"Vor'en Chegor, of Dorin."
Removing his taloned hand from the Kel Dor's shoulder, the Warrior began to walk towards his comrades, though he refused to show his back to someone he had once considered an enemy.
"Ai'tanna Vor'en. The Gods smile upon you this day."
As the hulking Yuuzhan Vong had reached the circling line of Warriors, he turned to address his comrades.
"Tchurook Yun'tchilat! Sha grunnik ith-har Yun-Shuno..."
He then directs them out of the gaping maw of the Slave Ship and has them gather up their fallen. Within the span of an hour, the Yuuzhan Vong had seemingly vanished from this portion of the adjoining districts, leaving the motionless Jedi standing alone amidst the organic boarding ramp of their deserted vessel. Once he had known that he was all by himself, Vor'en crumpled to his knees and felt the agony of yet another sentient heart ceasing to beat flash through his mind like lightning.
Had he been able to weep, as Humans did, he imagined that his body would've drowned in the swirling tides of the tears that would've been shed. Instead, he gave voice to his wordless despair.
