Post by Dutch on Jul 7, 2015 16:36:11 GMT -5
Twenty hours after defeat on Taris…
The light hurt his eyes.
From the second the cracked open Levin winced at it, the illumination only worsening disjointed and foggy thoughts. He breathed, and it hurt. A few sharp, hacking coughs lead spots to caper about his vision. The Jedi shifted and slid sideways against the wall he was leaned against, one arm moved to catch his fall. His numb and throbbing limb moved awkwardly, eyes opening wide as a suddenly intensifying pain shot from fingertip to shoulder. Levin gasped in agony and fell over as that arm was brought to his chest. He grunted on impact, and looked down with hollow breaths to look at his hand.
Near crumpled and twisted, blood covered them well pasted his elbows. It appeared it had been in a fist, as if Levin had punched something until his body had literally broken. A scale was stuck in between broken fingers, and the Jedi brought his other hand over to pluck the scale with the only two fingers on it that would move. Igneous pain rolled over this hand, able to move but sore as if Lev had tried to squeeze something in half. He wheezed, and made no attempt to stand. With his face against cold, damp stone he let his blood-shot eyes open a little wider.
Taris.
In the distance he immediately noted Fort Bennick, he was on the complete opposite side of the crater from where it sat. From where everything had gone wrong. The rain had stopped sometime in the span of lost time that lingered troublingly in the back of his ragged and weary mind. The smell of smokey holocaust and rain soaked stone filled his senses. The sky was a mottled cloud cover, the occasional ray of Tarisian sun penetrating to shine on the battlefield. As far as the eye could see, there were bodies. Untold thousands scattered and broken upon stone and wreckage. Too tired for surprise, he noted the pale specters of rakghouls as they wandered the slaughter. None seemed close enough to notice him, and Levin took that small knowledge as relief.
He couldn’t remember what happened. There was the fight, the hazy memory of Novus and her learner. Levin had disabled the learner, and she had acted in instinctual protection. All ice and edges, Lidah’s fury was. Levin had never been the focus of it before, and was certain he would be dead now had he not been able to heal. The Jedi groaned, and used his less damaged hand to help himself back into a sitting position. He screamed, cut short by the grit of his own teeth as Levin fought to remain silent.
Levin pulled lightly within the Force, but melt a static resistance he had never felt before. He tried again. Then again. With a frustrated growl Lev shifted to lay his head back on the ruin wall. All around he could feel the Force, could sense the life that moved all around him for miles. Yet anytime he tried to tap into it, it was like trying to push through sand. A flutter in his chest, a spike of dread settled in his core at the dire realization. Levin was very well moments from death, and unable to tap into the blanket of haze and darkness that was the Force around him.
The Jedi let his head drop, eyes hollow as they wandered over his broken and tattered self. The gauntlets at his arms had been totally shattered, mere shards of them clung to the underweave gloves. His cuirass was obscenely scoured by blaster scorching, the iridescent dark blue now matte black. To his weary approval, his legs appeared unharmed if bare without his boots. Levin couldn’t even grasp how those had disappeared, and was entirely too wasted to care. The robes that were left on him were shredded entirely, exposing pale skin marred in blood and mud. Everywhere hurt, everywhere didn’t want to budge. Instead Levin sat there, and watched the sunrise peak through the sea of clouds.
Levin thought of Lidah. Darth Novus. She had wounded him, likely ignited whatever chain of events lead him to his current state. Yet even with all that, even with the war and the Jedi. The Sith. Despite all of that, he could only think that he missed her. Levin remembered the pyramid, the way the Vendaxan sun had framed Lidah the day she awoke from the ancient Sith temple’s trap. The way her coy gaze appraised him for the first time, as vividly as it was back then. Levin squeezed his eyes shut, and let himself rest weakly against the wall. He was going to die here. It was too late for him to apologize, to admit he had been wrong this whole time. For months he had trusted the Force. Trusted that there was some great mystical reason it continually brought them to one another. That there was a quest, a mission to be carried out by them. There had to be a reason for the Force to bring together Jedi and Sith, something they needed to complete together.
Yet as residual thunder resounded distantly, a thought seeded in the back of his mind. His oversight may have reached past the true point, the true reason. A Sith and a Jedi had found some resemblance of balance. Together, they had completed impressive feats. Would he survive, they could likely affect the galaxy in ways neither could dream. Balance, that was what was important. Not the struggle for dominance light and dark had paraded on for eons.
Levin thought he could almost pick up Lidah’s scent on the wind, and he wanted nothing more than to feel her fingers at his jaw. Her lips pressed to his. His remorse was palpable through the Force, but the man was simply too drained to shield his mind.
Lidah… I was wrong…
The light hurt his eyes.
From the second the cracked open Levin winced at it, the illumination only worsening disjointed and foggy thoughts. He breathed, and it hurt. A few sharp, hacking coughs lead spots to caper about his vision. The Jedi shifted and slid sideways against the wall he was leaned against, one arm moved to catch his fall. His numb and throbbing limb moved awkwardly, eyes opening wide as a suddenly intensifying pain shot from fingertip to shoulder. Levin gasped in agony and fell over as that arm was brought to his chest. He grunted on impact, and looked down with hollow breaths to look at his hand.
Near crumpled and twisted, blood covered them well pasted his elbows. It appeared it had been in a fist, as if Levin had punched something until his body had literally broken. A scale was stuck in between broken fingers, and the Jedi brought his other hand over to pluck the scale with the only two fingers on it that would move. Igneous pain rolled over this hand, able to move but sore as if Lev had tried to squeeze something in half. He wheezed, and made no attempt to stand. With his face against cold, damp stone he let his blood-shot eyes open a little wider.
Taris.
In the distance he immediately noted Fort Bennick, he was on the complete opposite side of the crater from where it sat. From where everything had gone wrong. The rain had stopped sometime in the span of lost time that lingered troublingly in the back of his ragged and weary mind. The smell of smokey holocaust and rain soaked stone filled his senses. The sky was a mottled cloud cover, the occasional ray of Tarisian sun penetrating to shine on the battlefield. As far as the eye could see, there were bodies. Untold thousands scattered and broken upon stone and wreckage. Too tired for surprise, he noted the pale specters of rakghouls as they wandered the slaughter. None seemed close enough to notice him, and Levin took that small knowledge as relief.
He couldn’t remember what happened. There was the fight, the hazy memory of Novus and her learner. Levin had disabled the learner, and she had acted in instinctual protection. All ice and edges, Lidah’s fury was. Levin had never been the focus of it before, and was certain he would be dead now had he not been able to heal. The Jedi groaned, and used his less damaged hand to help himself back into a sitting position. He screamed, cut short by the grit of his own teeth as Levin fought to remain silent.
Levin pulled lightly within the Force, but melt a static resistance he had never felt before. He tried again. Then again. With a frustrated growl Lev shifted to lay his head back on the ruin wall. All around he could feel the Force, could sense the life that moved all around him for miles. Yet anytime he tried to tap into it, it was like trying to push through sand. A flutter in his chest, a spike of dread settled in his core at the dire realization. Levin was very well moments from death, and unable to tap into the blanket of haze and darkness that was the Force around him.
The Jedi let his head drop, eyes hollow as they wandered over his broken and tattered self. The gauntlets at his arms had been totally shattered, mere shards of them clung to the underweave gloves. His cuirass was obscenely scoured by blaster scorching, the iridescent dark blue now matte black. To his weary approval, his legs appeared unharmed if bare without his boots. Levin couldn’t even grasp how those had disappeared, and was entirely too wasted to care. The robes that were left on him were shredded entirely, exposing pale skin marred in blood and mud. Everywhere hurt, everywhere didn’t want to budge. Instead Levin sat there, and watched the sunrise peak through the sea of clouds.
Levin thought of Lidah. Darth Novus. She had wounded him, likely ignited whatever chain of events lead him to his current state. Yet even with all that, even with the war and the Jedi. The Sith. Despite all of that, he could only think that he missed her. Levin remembered the pyramid, the way the Vendaxan sun had framed Lidah the day she awoke from the ancient Sith temple’s trap. The way her coy gaze appraised him for the first time, as vividly as it was back then. Levin squeezed his eyes shut, and let himself rest weakly against the wall. He was going to die here. It was too late for him to apologize, to admit he had been wrong this whole time. For months he had trusted the Force. Trusted that there was some great mystical reason it continually brought them to one another. That there was a quest, a mission to be carried out by them. There had to be a reason for the Force to bring together Jedi and Sith, something they needed to complete together.
Yet as residual thunder resounded distantly, a thought seeded in the back of his mind. His oversight may have reached past the true point, the true reason. A Sith and a Jedi had found some resemblance of balance. Together, they had completed impressive feats. Would he survive, they could likely affect the galaxy in ways neither could dream. Balance, that was what was important. Not the struggle for dominance light and dark had paraded on for eons.
Levin thought he could almost pick up Lidah’s scent on the wind, and he wanted nothing more than to feel her fingers at his jaw. Her lips pressed to his. His remorse was palpable through the Force, but the man was simply too drained to shield his mind.
Lidah… I was wrong…
