Jedi Insurgency 185

During the fight, Yon had been sitting down in a meditative posture, feeding Master Corvus his energy. The black haired, short teen pulled upon every conceptual teaching he had ever learned from his holocron, and directed it outward. 

Breath in. 

Out. 

In.

Out. 

The flow of the universe, Light & Dark entered his veins at a rate his teacher in the holocron had deemed unsafe. And yet, he had to. 

His Master, the only person in the galaxy who really cared if he lived or died-Jax didn't count-was fighting for his life. A scenario like this had occurred down in the research facility deep within Naboo. Yon had given a portion of himself then, and it almost wasn't enough. This time, he had come prepared. 

Black veins coated his temple, his hair was messy with sweat stained grease, and a dash of blood dripped down his nostrils, yet his grin was feral. 

His Master, the man he admired most, was thrashing the big bad Sith. The slug had met its end with a flash frying of totally cool lightning hands, and that tattooed freak could only dodge left and right as he was absolutely bodied. Yon imagined himself in his Master's shoes, and shifted his body back and forth in anticipation every time a hit narrowly missed, or a glancing blow didn't quite land. 

Adrenaline pulsed through Yon's veins, as he rooted for him. Despite the grievous wounds pouring thick neon colored glowing blood out of his wounds, Yon never once doubted that his Master would emerge victorious. Instead, the shadow stitched form was everything he ever wanted in life. 

One day, he would be able to teleport around a room, and have a cloak of shadow like that. One day, he would shoot out a web of darkness that would eat away at a foe's attack. One day, he would have students of his own, and pass down his Master's skills, immortalizing him for all time. 

Whether it be the Revan of the past, or the Corvus of the present, Yon would extol his Master's accomplishments, and make everyone understand his greatness! Escaping the Temple under siege, saving the sorry excuses of the CIS, tricking those idiots above Kamino, outmaneuvering an entire fleet at Malastare, tricking more people again and again as Bond. Master Corvus's feats of trickery and skill were legendary! The stuff he had only dreamed of doing as a kid! 

And now he was! No stinky old code to hold him back, and now that he had an understanding Master, he was finally free to do to others what they had done to the less fortunate! Yon once envied people like Obi-Wan Kenobi or Anakin Skywalker, thinking their fame was what every Jedi should aspire towards! 

How wrong he was! Master Corvus, now that was a real Jedi! The Order of Jedi Shadows was one much greater than those idiot saber monkeys. His Master was a genius who enacted plans with far reaching consequences. Millions of loyal clones brainwashed to their cause, a hundred million Eriaduan's tricked through miraculous healing, the respect of other Jedi due to strength, the promises of Senators due to value, and loyal cultists sworn to follow until death! 

Master Corvus had proven without a shadow of a doubt, that strength was the key to everything. Without strength, and the will to use it, then your fate was to be used! 

And Yon would only ever be used by those who deserved his loyalty! 

It was with such a mindset that he poured every breath, every iota of his being into his Master. 

‘Kill them! Avenge our comrades! You can do it, Master, I believe in you!’ Yon desperately thought to himself with grit teeth, and clenched fists. ‘...because without you-and maybe that idiot Jax-...who else will I bake cookies for?’ 

Whilst Yon was having his internal monologue, Jax-who was sitting beside him-was having one of his own. 

The moment the battle began, Jax had found himself supporting his Master. 

When that sickly green lightning threatened to overwhelm him, he stepped forward, lending himself, body and soul. The majestic roar of a Zilo beast had been unleashed. Pulling deeply upon his spirit, he shared everything he had to offer. 

Ever since the attack on the Temple, Jax had followed behind the mysterious man he now called Master. Corvus, Revan, he knew neither of these names belonged to him. An anomaly born through the Force, the man wore many masks, and hid his pain behind laughter, sarcastic remarks, and banal humor. 

Jax knew that he was not from this era, or perhaps even this universe. Technology that was easily understood by any child had confused his Master at first glance. He often said terms that didn't fit in with modern slang, and was quite awkward. For a time, Jax really, truly suspected that he might be the fabled Revan, displaced through time. Perhaps there truly was some relation between them, but the way history described Revan was different from what his Master presented himself as. 

Kind: unlike a Jedi, he was not blind to the plight of the people. 

Stern: he was specific with his orders, and expected his command to be followed. 

Fair: he tried not to treat Jax better than everyone else, even though he was clearly the favorite. Jax couldn't help but smile at the thought of revealing such information to Yon. 

Biased; a contradiction to the last thought, but it was true. His Master had an unhealthy obsession with Mandalorians, and what he liked, he pursued like a man possessed. What he disliked…Jar Jar was an example of that. 

Understanding: He gave Jax the space he needed to grieve, and provided support at all the right times. Although they didn't speak much-as neither of them was much of a talker-his presence had always been one that commanded respect, strength, and a quiet resolve that most other Jedi lacked. 

Fluid: he worked with some of the worst people in the galaxy, such as Xizor or Hondo Ohnaka. His Master insisted that they ally with the clones mere weeks after Order 66…Jax had been worried many a time as his Master made a new decision on the fly. Even today, he felt like he'd have a migraine when he decided to take Omega & Triss along on a whim. 

If his Master had been the Grandmaster, then this war never would have happened. His insight, foresight, and wisdom would have destroyed the Separatist movement before it even began. Disregarding his knowledge regarding the Sith, Jax was certain that his proactive approach to solving problems would have cut corruption in the Senate, and resolved any trade disputes as they occurred. 

Every fight they engaged in, his Master attempted to mitigate collateral damage, and did not waste time attempting to hog fame or glory. Everywhere he went, people cheered him on, praising him for his generous healing. The Force sang when his Master brought peace to the thirsty. 

He might not be like any Jedi before or since. He might be a maverick, a tyrant by some metrics, or even a war criminal. He might even be lovers with a Sith! 

None of that mattered to Jax, because at the end of the day, he had sworn an oath! 

The bond between a master and his disciple was sacred. Jax had internally sworn that he would follow him to the gates of Hell if need be. 

Corvus. Revan. Those were masks. 

Teacher. Master. Sensei. Father. 

These were truths. 

Balling his mechanical fingers into fists, he rode the wave that was supplying Corvus with energy. He had called upon their Force Bond, and Jax had gladly answered. 

For saving his life. 

For rescuing the Jedi. 

For freeing the slaves. 

For the future of the galaxy, Jax would place his trust in this man, and give everything! 

His aura flared in the Force, and although his eyes were closed in meditation, he knew that the fight was progressing at an intense tempo. 

The pain radiating from his Master shook his heart, yet the resolve Master Corvus pushed into the Force with his every attack emboldened Jax's resolve as well. Forming a triangle link with Yon, and the added support from the Ongree, a delicate balance had been formed. 

Once the palace began to fall apart, and the duel reached a climax, Jax heard a line that sent chills up his spine. 

“Now, Beldorion! Whilst he is distracted, strike his students down and end this farce!” Maul screeched. 

Rising from the floor, the badly wounded, lightning scarred Hutt limped his way towards them. One arm missing, the other dangling by a thread, the muscular Dark Jedi ever so slowly advanced. 

Ever so slowly, his icy blue eyes opened. A wintery aura coated his psyche, preparing to counter a mental assault, as the Hutt had shown himself to be quite potent regarding this method of attack. 

“Yon.” Jax seriously intoned. 

“I see him…but any movement will interrupt the channeling technique. Master is nearly out of energy, but also close to victory.” Yon spoke between deep, Force infused breaths. 

Jax furrowed his brow as he struggled to come up with a solution. 

Yon didn't wait for any further discussion, and pulled a thermal detonator out of a pocket. He then hurled it at the Hutt without a second thought. 

Beldorion held out a hand, and the beeping device flew back towards them. 

Jax narrowed his eyes, and pressed his will down. The small orb twisted, and exploded between the two groups. Super heated plasma erupted outward, blowing hot air, and dust everywhere. Glaring at Yon, Jax then turned his attention back towards the slug. 

The muscular slime emerged from the debris with a leer. His large eyes narrowed in dark amusement, and a deep laugh left his lips. 

“Oh hoh hoh. An admirable last stand, young Jedi. But this day is your last.” Beldorion declared, igniting his lightsaber, and slithering forward. 

Jax wanted to launch a retaliatory attack, certain that between both himself, and Yon, they could take this heavily injured Dark Jedi on. However…as this thought came to mind, he sensed that his Master was on the verge of collapse. That if even one of them stopped supplying Master Corvus…he would fall apart. Not simply die, no, his intuition, and the Force were warning him. If this supply was cut off in the next minute…his Master would break into tiny pieces, and then scatter into nothing. 

His heart raced, and for a moment, fear, panic, and doubt clutched at his heart. Glancing at his trembling mechanical limbs, Jax recalled everything that had been gifted to him, and then smiled. 

“Take care of Master.” Jax said behind his back with a serene smile. 

“Oi, Jax, don't do something stupid!” Yon roared, taking a step forward, only to sit back down a second later to continue channeling energy, as their Master roared in pain. 

Igniting his lightsabers, Jax stood tall. Illuminated by the azure glow, his white hair, and pale skin took on an icy hue. 

His heart filled with the majesty of the Zilo beast, and yearned to protect that which could not save itself. 

For the Republic. 

For the Jedi. 

For his fallen comrades. 

For Yon. 

For his Master. 

Do not lose yourself to depression now, son. A voice seemed to echo in his heart. 

A tear trailed down his eye, and warmth spread across his often too cold face. 

‘Yes, Master.’ 

He would do this not only for others, but also:

For himself. 

“My name is Jax, a Jedi Knight of the Republic, protector of the innocent, just, & weak. I will not let you harm my friends.” 

Beldorion paused in his gait, and came to his full height. His eyes became unfocused, and he reached out slowly in Jax's direction. 

“You are most admirable for holding to your convictions.” Beldorion spoke in a low, almost sad, longing tone. 

Jax stood tall, and met Beldorion’s gaze, neither shirking, or turning away from the heavily damaged, gruesome looking slug. 

“Once upon a time, you believed such things too. I sense good in you, Beldorion. My Master is a merciful man, he can bring you to do good once more.” Jax spoke sincerely, speaking deeply from the bottom of his heart. 

“Hoh. Hoh…” Beldorion mockingly chuckled at himself, and hung his head low. “After I so viciously struck down his comrades? Who would forgive a creature like me? It is because of this killing, that he has entered the state that consumes him even now.” 

The Hutt reluctantly lifted his massive head, and leveled his lightsaber at Jax. 

“A Je'daii would forgive you, if only you worked to save ten times as many souls as you had ruined, you might find redemption.” Jax pressed once more, attempting to sway the muscular Hutt. 

Beldorion laughed once more, this time uproariously. “Oh hoh! You remind me of my own student. He was loyal, forthcoming, and dedicated to the very end. When he passed, I wept for days, before finally succumbing to the darkness slumbering within my heart. I can see the same light in your eyes that were in his. You know that you have given all your energy to your Master. You know that this is nothing but a bluff, that my constitution is greater than you might ever possibly imagine!” 

At the end of his statement, Beldorion roared, and by some miracle of Dark Jedi artes, and Hutt physiology, he regrew his other arm. Bursting out of his side, the freshly grown arm was covered in green juices, and absolutely brimming with power. The lightning scar on his back then fell away, like the flakes of an old scab. 

“Hoh hoh hoh! Are you so confident now?!” Beldorion bellowed, jeering at Jax. 

Jax closed his eyes. It was true. He had put everything he had into supporting his Master. At this point, he could barely move, much less stand. 

The Revanites had turned to dust by now, having sacrificed their lives. It was only himself and Yon supporting their Master. These last few seconds, he had been determined to stall Beldorion, but it seemed the Hutt had seen through his gambit. Even so, he refused to yield, and refused to show his hand until the bitter end. 

Flourishing his lightsabers, Jax tightly grinned, and matched the Hutt's bravado. 

“Try me.” 

Beldorion assumed a striking position, and then slithered towards Jax like a grav train. 

Jax-fully prepared to die-swung his sabers in an X pattern. A cry deep from in his soul rang out. The last of the Zilo beasts tried to hold on, and bolster him from half a galaxy away, and he mustered what little strength he could bare for one final strike. 

Twin blades of azure rushed forward to meet a slab of red, only for the Hutt to disable his blade at the last second, and collapse to Jax's side. Large gashes coated the Hutt, and all of his previous wounds-the lightning and destroyed arm-reappeared. 

“...a [Mind Trick], but why?” Jax asked, realizing that the ‘healing’ from earlier had been nothing more than an illusion. 

Kneeling at the Hutt's side, he looked down in confusion. 

Gasping deeply, Beldorion weakly chuckled. “You are children…and you resemble my apprentice, Koty, so much. I do not deserve to be redeemed, but your words have…moved me. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself, was not, in vain.” 

Beldorion then closed his eyes, and joined in on the flow feeding Corvus energy. A massive stream of power rapidly left the Hutt, and he rapidly aged, and began to transform into dust. 

“When you restore the Temple, leave a memento for Koty, would you? This was…his appearance.” Beldorion gasped, and passed a dataslate-no larger than a usb-to Jax. “I. S..ry.” 

Turning into dust, and fading into nothingness, the Dark Jedi disappeared as if he had never existed. 

Jax folded his arms within his robe, pocketing the usb, and bowed his head. 

“May the Force be with you…always.”