"Touch that lightsaber, Jedi, and my bomb will reduce the Shi'ido in front of you to bloody chunks. Same goes for your little Togruta brat, the Naboo, and the battle-droid.
One of you tries something, you'll be explaining to that wretched Council of yours how you managed to paint half a Naboo city block the color of hostage. If you survive the blast to explain anything to anyone."
...
Craning my head upward and to the right, I spotted the speaker now standing tall and confident at the edge of the Wandering Wyyyschokk's rooftop. Feeling a pained pang on Crissayel's behalf as I did, and the familiar thrill that being in danger always sent singing through my nerves.
All because I recognized the Dark Jedi from the picture I'd seen attached to her inmate dossier. Ravara Zi Venn was tall at nearly two meters, and a fit sixty-five to seventy kilos. Belonging to the Myr Rho subspecies of the feline Cathar, her attractive features contained much more subdued leonine influences than Cathar of more typical descent.
The wide, narrowing "V" of her brow drew the eye downward to large, expressively golden, slit-pupiled orbs, and from there on to her inverted "V" of a nose. It wasn't until the observer took in her high, sharply pronounced cheekbones that the half-mask colored to blend almost perfectly into her short white facial fur truly became noticeable.
Running as it did from where the snow white fur of her mane transitioned into the short fur covering her forehead, then down and to the right, before finally terminating just above the right corner of the woman's upper lip.
I knew the mask covered an absolutely ghastly "\" scar. One kept sealed beneath the mask by a mix of metallic latticework and synth-skin. The existence of that scar, and what it always portended, was a big part of why I hurt on behalf of the desperate and now increasingly frantic shapeshifter.
Leaping from the rooftop, Ravara landed with graceful ease on the walkway. Touching down perhaps ten or eleven meters behind and just to the right of her hostage, the Cathar immediately grew still as a Narglatch waiting to pounce.
Eyes like frozen chips of amber studied me with a dispassionate facade, but I could feel the rage, resentment, and cold contempt slowly rising to roil just beneath the surface like a writhing mass of vipers waking from hibernation.
When the impassive mask finally threatened to crack and reveal her true feelings, the corrupted ex-Padawan sneered derisively.
"Even a Jedi should be, if only just barely, smart enough to understand how this goes. Throw down your weapons, then get on your bellies, or we'll all get to see what interesting shapes my handiwork can shift the Shi'ido into.
I'm afraid it will be a rather more permanent configuration than broken little Crissayel is accustomed to, but we all do the best we can with the resources at our disposal. Now, move!"
Locking eyes with the deranged Dark Jedi, I managed to keep my countenance calm, even placid, as I serenely replied "I have a counter-offer in mind.
Disarm your explosive, remain where you are while Crissayel moves to a safer vantage after divesting himself of your handiwork, then you can disarm and surrender. Otherwise, as unpleasant a task as it will be to carry out in front of my apprentice and charge, I'm going to make you surrender. Now, decide!"
Staring at me with growing disbelief as I unspooled my own ultimatum, the pale alien's golden eyes narrowed to slits within slits, as she growled with unrestrained anger "You shouldn't have tested me, fool." Stabbing her thumb down on a blinking icon I could just barely see at the angle she held the data-pad with obvious satisfaction.
Crissayel, Padme, and Ahsoka all cried out in various ways over the next second or so, with the latter two hitting the deck unceremoniously, but otherwise, nothing at all happened.
Glancing down at the datapad in her hand with a look of frustrated incredulity, understanding was a second too slow in coming. Ravara's head snapped back up, but my hand was already out before me and rising, as I'd gathered my power and struck in her moment of confused inattention.
The Cathar's body was hauled in it's entirety a meter into the air. Her arms pressed tight to her sides, and the balls of both shoulders threatening to roll the inside of her arms outward, as my hand slowly closed into a tighter and tighter "C." Invisible forces snapping her head back to stare skyward, as the Dark Jedi's joints continued to strain against the pressure being exerted.
"You were saying something about Jedi stupidity, Ravara?" I inquired conversationally. Giving no sign of the way my stomach churned at the thought of what I'd just put Crissayel through, and to a lesser extent, the women it was my responsibility to protect.
Disabling the explosive with Mechu-deru had been a gamble, if an informed one, because many people knew how to make improvised explosives, but only experts were generally capable of creating the anti-tamper mechanisms standard in thermal detonators and the like. Catching Ravara out was another matter. One which had relied completely on the reactions of the others being genuine.
Out of nowhere, a blot of roiling darkness suddenly appeared well behind and to my left in Force Sense. An instant later, a low, coldly furious voice gritted out "Let. Her. Go. Jedi. Or their deaths will be on your head!"
"Anakin!" Padme called out in alarm. Causing me to whirl with my lightsaber already in hand, my concentration still full upon pinning Ravara. I took in the sight of the two white faced men, their night-black hair in rows of dreadlocks.
Each man's face covered in intersecting straight lines of black ink. Similar enough in appearance to be bookends, the pair's positioning was as much a mirror as their looks.
Behind a frightened middle-aged Naboo woman in white and turqoise, and a terrified teenage girl in a bright yellow sundress. Hands carefully positioned to snap necks with one easy twist.
Fark.
...
(Naboo, city of Moenia, 21.9BBY, 5 seconds later)
Staring impassively at the two relatively small blots of disease that happened to look like men, my reply was simple and to the point.
"No."
The Force intensified my awareness of the others' reactions to this succinct reply. They ranged from incredulous disbelief (Padme, Ahsoka), to stunned surprise and outraged fury (The Bpfasshi brothers). Crissayel had momentarily turned his attention my way, feeling a flicker of surprise at my answer, but for the most part, the shapeshifter hadn't taken his eyes off the Force-sensitive serial killer still hovering rigidly behind me.
It was the older of the two near-humans who recovered from this unexpected shock to their sensibilities first. His inky black and chalky white striped right hand tightened on the chin of the older woman, as he pressed harder with his other hand on the left side of her head.
The painful torquing movement pulled a cry of pain from his victim, despite her best effort to remain silent and unresisting, so as not to provoke her captor.
It was a move meant to remind me who held the power here, as if I needed to be reminded of something so self-evident.
Subtly moving my off-hand through a series of tiny movements at my side, as slowly as was humanly possible, I restated my position dispassionately, "I'm not going to release Ravara, Bpfasshi. She's a mad kath hound, who would kill the hostages out of spite the very instant she was free.
Obviously, you can make your hostages pay the price for my refusal, but all that will accomplish is depriving you and your kinsman of their protection. If anything should happen to either woman, I promise you this, you'll be dead before their body hits the ground."
It wasn't a very Jedi thing to say, but my Master had taught me I should speak truth whenever possible, and the truth was, these pretenders were embarrassments to the cause of Evil even when compared to the likes of Karoc and Vinoc.
A silence fell over our two groups with these words. The older Bpfasshi was studying me intently now. His cold dark eyes sweeping over me in a measuring manner, as he undoubtedly looked for any signs of weakness or doubt. The lack of fear in both Dark Siders told me this one thought I was simply bluffing, while the younger one seemed to follow his senior unquestioningly.
Something needed to happen to upend this unpleasant balance, and I had an idea what that was intended to be. Which only went to show I was actually capable of learning from experience.
...
Hey guys if you like the story please throw some power stones to Elevate the ranking.
...
if you want to read ahead of the public release you can go to p@treon :
p@treon.com/Rage_moon