I was getting sick of being knocked out. If I remembered right, falling unconscious too often could lead to brain damage.
And I liked my brain. It was where I kept my favorite things.
I blinked as I noticed the pain. My head was hurting again, but this time it was specifically my face. I went slightly cross-eyed as I tried to look at the source, which didn't help dull it in the slightest. My nose was bent significantly to the left.
It said something about how out of it I still was that it took me a moment to realize it wasn't supposed to do that.
Closing my eyes to block out as many distractions as possible, I applied Crucitorn. And like that, I could suddenly think much more clearly without the pain muddling my thought processes.
Opening my eyes again, I got to work before my concentration slipped. At the very least, I was getting practice.
Using Sith Alchemy, I wrenched my nose back into place and restored the connective tissues to their original states, though I had to force myself not to wince at the extremely uncomfortable-sounding crunching noises that resulted from it.
Probing at it gently with my fingers, I checked to make sure everything was where it should be and that I had not spontaneously grown a third nostril. With Sith Alchemy, you just had to make sure sometimes.
I took a deep breath in through my nose and let it out. No blockages. Good.
Wait. Why did I smell smoke?
"Now that right there is a neat little trick. Knew the bloody Sith kept the nice toys for themselves." A man's voice commented in a thick Cockney accent.
I was on my feet and crouched in less time than it took me to blink. Seated on what seemed to be the only crate in the hold, the source of the smoke smirked back at me.
He was a human with pale skin, shaggy brown hair, and unkempt stubble lining his jaw. The man's nose was noticeably crooked, indicating it had been broken multiple times.
He was dressed in the same armor I'd grown very familiar with over the last few months, though his was pitted and scarred from extensive use and unpolished. Clutched between his teeth was a cigarette, lit and filling the hold with its foul-smelling smoke.
Any officer would have tanned his hide for his unprofessional appearance. But despite that, I felt he was not to be underestimated. Not that I made a habit of underestimating any possible enemies.
Well, that and he was pointing a blaster at me. From where I was standing, I couldn't guess what setting it was on. Either way, I didn't want to be on the receiving end.
As I eyed the weapon, the soldier had immediately guessed what I was thinking, "I can pull the trigger faster than you can take it from me. Even if you manage that, I'll just punch you. I did it once, I can do it again."
He wasn't boasting. He was stating a simple fact.
I liked to think I was pretty good at reading people and trusting my instinct about them. Right now, my senses were screaming to not attack.
Slowly, I forced my muscles to relax as I resettled myself on the floor, "So you're the one that dragged me out of my dorm?"
"That's me," The soldier nodded, his blaster following me the whole time. He reached up to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, tap off the ashes, and replaced it, "Name's Jax Selvin.
Major in the Emperor's Imperial Military service. My boss' taken an interest in your progress, so he sent me to get you where you need to go."
I barely resisted the urge to raise an incredulous eyebrow.
Obviously, he wasn't here to help me. Now that my head was clearing up, I could remember that Iren had said something about my next trial, just before the gas had started pouring in.
But now, that left a new question. What kind of Sith would send a Major to serve as a courier?
Reaching out with the Force, I searched around the vessel to get an idea if there was anyone else present. Curiously, Major Selvin was the only other person on the ship. As I could feel the ship rumbling beneath me, it wasn't hard to guess that it was currently on autopilot and in hyperspace.
"So where are we going?" I asked.
If I could manage to neutralize Selvin, I could theoretically take control of the ship. I still had no idea how to actually fly it or operate a navicomputer, but I could possibly use the autopilot to leave Sith space.
The soldier shrugged, "Hell if I know. I was just given some coordinates and instructions to take you there. I don't need to know everything and I like it that way."
However, there were a few problems with that plan. Depending on where we were headed, there might not be enough fuel left to get out of Sith territory. With the hold as empty as it was, I wouldn't have the credits to pay for more if I managed to reach an inhabited planet.
And that was a big if. I wasn't entirely confident that I would be able to get the ship's computer to do what I wanted in the way that I wanted, or if my powers would have side effects. So far, I had only used it on droids and for very simple, straightforward purposes.
For all I knew, I could accidentally disable the failsafes on the hyperdrive that kept the ship from plowing into a planet while in hyperspace.
The most prominent issue was Selvin himself. Though he didn't look like much, I was well-aware of how that was far from an indicator of danger. The fact that he had already managed to get me here in the first place was evidence of that.
I wasn't part of the school of thought that Force Users stomp no matter what. The existence of the Imperial Agent and other highly skilled combatants and assassins discouraged that idea very thoroughly. It was simply a rare occurrence.
The fact that a Sith Lord apparently had decided that Major Selvin would be able to get me to my destination against my will spoke of either how skilled he was…or how expendable he was.
Just because I could use the Force, that did not mean I was omnipotent or invulnerable. For instance, I was still very much not blaster-proof. The armor helped, but it wouldn't stop him from just stunning me and putting a lethal bolt through my forehead.
I didn't particularly want to gamble on whether or not he could pull it off or if he or his "Boss" were smart enough to set up contingencies.
"I wasn't told anything about what you're doing, only what I'm supposed to do," Selvin helpfully informed me. With his empty hand, he patted the crate he was sitting on.
"In here's about a week of supplies. Maybe two if you ration right. Most of it's food an' water, but there's a few other odds and ends. Think there's a new helmet in there too."
A chime echoed through the ship. I glanced around trying to find the source, "The hell was that?"
I heard the soldier's boots hit the ground before I turned back to face him. Now that I was looking at the ground, I could see that the crate was actually bolted to the floor.
"That was the two-minute warning. We're about to come out of hyperspace," Still keeping the blaster pointed at me, Selvin started walking slowly towards the only door, "Which means I need to get back to the cockpit and get ready for atmospheric entry."
As the door shut behind him, I was left alone again.
Soon, the shuttle shuddered under me as it transitioned back to realspace. As things calmed down, Silven's voice came over the ship's internal speakers.
"Alright, we are about thirty seconds from atmospheric entry," He said. The shuddering returned suddenly, prompting a sheepish sounding reply, "…Uh…Make that right now, actually. Math was never my strong suit."
I stared at the source of his voice and said nothing.
"Anyways…When you get to the ground, there's a comm unit in the crate. Use it and you'll get your instructions."
"What do you mean "when I get to the ground?"" I asked suspiciously a pool of dread in my gut.
"Well…let me put it this way…"
It clicked in my head before he could finish the sentence. Unfortunately, I couldn't reach out in time. I heard the sound of a lever being pulled.
"Bombs away!"
There was a series of loud clangs and suddenly my stomach found itself lodged in my throat as gravity pressed against me, cutting off any obscenities that had been about to pour from my mouth.
The pressure increased by the millisecond and before I could do anything, I was trapped against the ceiling. I then realized what Selvin had done.
That son of a bitch had just dropped the entire cargo bay of the shuttle from the upper atmosphere. I would have shaken my head to dismiss the thought if I could move it.
Right, cuss him out later. Now, figure out how not to die!
I didn't have a lightsaber or power tools to cut myself out with, though that method would take too long anyways. However, I did have the Force.
Squashing the fear and rage that threatened to leave me a babbling idiot and casting aside the feeling of being crushed, I closed my eyes, forcibly slowed my breathing, and reached out with my will.
The cargo bay was in free fall, with me inside of it. I needed it not to be in free fall, but I didn't want to suspend it in mid-air either.
Though I couldn't see the outside of the cargo bay, I didn't need to. With probing touches of the Force, I felt around the edges of the container until I had identified the four corners. Once found, I formed panes of telekinetic force, each sticking out over the edges.
Immediately, I felt the harsh winds buffet against them.
My aim wasn't to suddenly stop as that would just cause me to pancake against the floor. The impact would leave me dazed and unable to keep maintaining it. Instead, I wanted to create drag, slow down the container as it fell.
I could feel it working as the pressure on my body lessened enough for me to no longer be pinned, leaving me to drop to the floor. I wasn't safe yet as I was still falling, but now there was one less distraction.
That trick by itself would only work to a point, but it definitely helped. Now that I was slowed, I used a burst of power to shove the container horizontally. I nearly staggered as the jolt hit and a wall dented in slightly.
However, I was now falling in exactly the way I wanted.
Instead of dropping straight down and smashing to pieces, I should now be on course to hit the ground at an angle, which should encourage the container to roll and bleed off momentum.
Of course, the initial hit was still going to be rough, so I'd be trying to continue slowing down as much as I was able.
When I had done what I could with the Force, I wrapped my arms and legs around the crate and held on for dear life so I wouldn't get thrown around the compartment and risk breaking something.
The ground hit harder than I would have liked as a loud crash echoed inside the container. But I didn't have time to think about it before the spinning started.
The centrifugal force nearly caused me to lose my grip on the crate, but I drew on the Force to increase my strength to the point where I could almost feel the metal in my grip begin to warp. I also didn't care to count how many times my face smacked against it, though I was very sure I'd have a few new bruises.
Thankfully, the wild ride finally came to an end after a minute with another loud crash. Presumeably it was from hitting something, but I could have cared less at the moment as I discovered both the crate and me were now on the "ceiling."
Unfortunately, the world was still spinning and I quickly lost my grip and flopped down to "floor" like an dead fish, landing with a series of clangs as my armor met the metal beneath me. I would have stayed there, but my stomach chose that moment to tell me it had not appreciated my landing strategy.
I managed to roll over just before my stomach responded in the only way it knew how.
"Urp…"
...
After I stopped decorating the "floor" with the contents of my digestive tract, I finally managed to gather up the will to pry open the crate, catching the contents with the Force before they could all crash to the ground.
As I was promised, there was food and water, along with a new helmet, a bedroll, and a pack to carry it all with. There was also the comm unit, likely keyed to whoever was actually briefing me on what I was doing.
I thought about setting up inside the container, but the smell of my own vomit was more than a bit overpowering and making my stomach churn again. Instead, I pushed open the door and went outside.
What I found was a landscape not too different from Korriban at a glance. However, in place of red sands was cold, hard brown earth, long dead. In the skies over head, barely any sunlight pierced through the thick, dark clouds, giving the planet a dark, gloomy feeling not too different from one of the tombs.
In the distance, flat ground was broken up by sharp crags as numerous hills jutted out of the dirt.
As soon as I set foot on the dead earth, a sharp spike of pain lanced into my head. Wincing, I rubbed my temples and tried to push it away. In the end, all I could do was reduce it to a dull throb.
With nothing else, I set about assembling the comm unit. Thankfully, instructions had been provided.
As the small power generator hummed, the device crackled to life, though it did not project an image.
"Ah, good. You survived your landing," A voice immediately answered. It was a man's voice, deep and with a cold, eerie monotone, distorted slightly by the comm.
"I was wondering if that was part of the trial," I replied glibly.
"Partially. The world upon which you now stand is incredibly dangerous. Even descending into the lower atmosphere risked the loss of the shuttle."
"So he didn't launch the cargo hold from the upper atmosphere just for fun then?" I asked dubiously.
"I did not say that." I couldn't see his face, but I could just imagine an amused smirk, "Still, however much enjoyment he took from…dispensing you from the shuttle, his actions were correct in this instance."
I would take great joy in repaying the favor. Unfortunately, I'd have to save it for later as there were more important things to take care of, "So, where exactly am I? And what am I here for?"
"Straight to business, then. An attitude I can appreciate," The man commented approvingly, "You stand upon the world of Corbos. Your task, your Third Trial, is to hunt a Leviathan."
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The first book of this fanfic has been completed on Patreon, you can look it up in the collection alongside the second book. You can visit Patreon if you want to read in Advance.
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