A cesspool of the downtrodden, the Refugee Sector on Nar Shaddaa is home to both the misfortunate and criminals alike. Offering their protection for credits, the criminal organizations that control the sector tax the populace outrageous sums. Unable to provide these fees, refugees are forced to work under hazardous conditions producing glitterstim and adrenals for their overseers. Some of these refugees are addicted to the substances themselves—for which the cartels increase the price of their tithes in exchange for a share of the product.

Crammed with stalls and makeshift hovels, several of the sector’s inhabitants find refuge on the streets and in the alleyways. Those who managed to avoid the dangers of drug production can be found selling their limited and often defective goods to others. Behind these stalls, a selective stock of black market wares is hidden, reserved for mercenaries and thugs.

Littered with garbage, it is obvious that no maintenance droids have been programmed to maintain the sector. The surrounding towers have fallen into decay, bits of debris falling every so often into the middle of the street. The duracrete streets are covered in a film of filth and chemicals from the abandoned warehouses, making movement cumbersome when traveling through the most inhabited areas.

Patrols armed with blasters and vibroswords come through these areas regularly, making a show of force to advertise the merits of their ‘protection’ while extorting the occasional shopkeeper. Screams and shouts are a common enough sound, which is never in the refugees’ best interests to interfere in.

This was far from the kind of place a Jedi would ever frequent, and yet it was the kind of place that needed them most. To say it was a hive of scum and villainy would be the understatement of the galaxy and Nar Shaddaa's Refugee Sector was the perfect example of this. Whenever the Miraluka turned his head, he was privy to the Force outlining the various dealings of the black market. Everything from illegal narcotics and weaponry to standard fabrics and clothing was sold by the few stalls that littered the area. Many kept to the alleyways, preferring not to let their shady machinations be seen under the neon lighting provided by the various slums and hovels. His ears were assaulted by the sounds of the local populace and the occasional speeder bike zooming by.

Not to mention the smell. Sometimes he believed being naturally blind was as much a curse as it was a blessing. His stomach began spinning as the stench of oil, muck, grime and filth invaded his nostrils and made him nauseous. Still, he'd gotten used to it and dealt with it the way he always dealt with things, with a smile on his face and a song in his heart despite it feeling like someone had defecated in front of him.

He was beginning to think coming here was a mistake judging by the amount of times he'd been approached by sector scoundrels and ne'er-do-well's looking to take advantage of the fact he had a piece of cloth over his eyes. Even despite the fact he towered over most of the citizens with his natural height, the crystal embedded pauldrons of his armour and the chain around his neck led to a more than unique sight in these provinces. Perhaps an intimidating one at that. Not that it mattered to most; an easy target was an easy target and he must’ve looked like a fresh meal or free credits to the scum that frequented these streets. Still, it was nothing the Force couldn't help him cope with. A quick word or two and they were on their way without a care in the world. It had a very strong effect on the weak-minded and being a Seeker certainly had its advantages.

No, he did not want to buy any death sticks today, thank you very much…

He was still a Jedi, and never wanted to commit acts of violence unless he had to. Part of him wanted to help the poor refugees that had to live amongst all this filth. It was probably what set him apart from the rest of his Vizsla comrades. He was kind, considerate, empathetic, something that most in the Mercenary clan were, well… not.

This was something he needed to do. He was haunted by visions nightly. They invaded his dreams like screws being drilled into his brain. He broke into a cold sweat at the mere thought of it all. Out of body experiences might have been an odd occurrence for many Force users, but Caldorous Syr experienced them frequently, and he understood that the best way to deal with his nightmares was to face them head-on. Maybe it was a bit foolhardy, but at least it was admirable.

That's when he saw him. The Force outlined his aura to the Miraluka, and yet the Jedi could tell there was something different about him. He was tall and wore distinctive personalised armour that stood out like a sore thumb against the rest of the Nar Shaddaa populace. Cal's heart thumped hard in his chest as he broke into a cold sweat. Yes, it was definitely him, the one from his nightmares. It had to be.

He attempted to get a little bit closer. Hopefully he could isolate the man and have a private conversation. What he had seen was not pleasant, and if there was something he could do to prevent it then he would. Upon observation, the man seemed to be standing alone against the wall of one of the sector's many impromptu shops, arms folded, tapping his fingers against his left arm repeatedly like he was waiting for something and Cal could only wonder what for?

The answer came when a large, bulky, heavily tattooed Zabrakian male appeared from out of the shop and approached him in a threatening manner. The Jedi managed to get close enough to listen in on the conversation, hiding in the alley around the corner and subtly holding his lightsaber in his hand, concealed behind his robes should the need for it arise. He peered his head around the corner to gain a faint outline of the confrontation.

"Who the hell are you and why do you keep following me!?" The Zabrak yelled at him, garnering the attention of passersbys that flocked to the pair like Naboo bees to nectar.

"Oh, no reason. I wanted to do some sightseeing and you seemed like a good guy to follow," the man retorted, a slight smirk protruding his features.

"Very funny, aren't ya?" the Zabrak replied. "You know I have the death sentence in seven systems!?" he threatened, squaring off directly against the tall man, their faces inches away from each other.

"Oh, I know!" the tall man replied, pulling a small cylindrical device out of his armour. The Zabrak glanced downwards to it as the blue-hued image of his own face appeared from it, "That's why I'm here."

The Zabrak recoiled at the sight realising what it was. A tracking fob.

"Hello there." the tall man said, smirking gleefully and extending his right hand towards the Zabrak's sternum as a powerful gust of wind sent him flying towards the nearby wall across the street. Citizens gasped in shock and horror at the display as the Zabrak crashed, hitting the back of his head and rendering him unconscious.

Observing through the Force, Cal saw the Dark Jedi approached the unconscious man slowly, whistling a happy tune to himself, his right hand extended above the Zabrak's motionless body. The Miraluka's ears picked up the unmistakable sound of sparks and electricity dancing in-between the Dark Jedi's fingers. He had heard enough, and he wasn't about to let him die no matter how innocent or guilty he may be. It wasn't the Jedi way!

With the Force injecting itself into his legs like a powerful stimulant, he leapt over the crowd of people that gathered and ignited his weapon. A yellow blade ruptured out of the hilt with a distinctive snap-hiss, and he landed with a hard thud directly in-between the Zabrak and his hunter, causing the Dark Jedi to stagger back against the Miraluka's sudden arrival.

"The frak!?" the Dark Jedi spoke, he'd been so preoccupied with what was in front of him that he failed to sense another Force user in the immediate vicinity, a common trait amongst dark siders to be sure.

"Appius Wight, isn't it?" Cal said, standing above the fallen Zabrak like a guardian protector.

The Dark Jedi didn't react at first. Instead, he took in the sudden appearance of the Miraluka.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said quickly, waving his hands in front of him. "A Jedi? Let me guess, you're here to tell me what I'm doing is wrong and that it isn't the will of the Force. Am I right?"

"You are following a dark path, Appius. I have foreseen it."

"Ooh ominous," Appius replied, sarcasm dripping in his tone. "You know, you are not the first seer that's said that to me. Do you know what happened to the last guy? I left him as a charred stain on the floor of Chute Town."

Cal could feel the hostility in the Dark Jedi rising the words that came from his mouth. Thankfully, he had a couple of tricks up his sleeves to defuse situations such as these.

"You don't want to do this." Cal said, his words calm and soothing, seeding its way into Appius' mind like tiny spiders casting their webs.

"I…" the human replied, the thought entering his mind and coming to the forefront of his consciousness. It seemed like a good idea, but was this really worth it? The fighting, the credits. He was so determined to collect the bounty that he hadn't stopped to think about the consequences of his actions.

That was when his amber eyes shot open wide. Anger rose from the pit of his gut like hot red fire right through his body. He clenched his hands, his body slightly trembling as his fingers dug into the palms of his hands.

Caldorous stood firm, looking to get a reading on Appius's emotional state. What he felt was overwhelming, a well of dark hatred assaulting his emotional state like a punch to the face.

Danger came as a warning through the Force, Cal breaking from his stupor as the Sorcerer swifty thrust both arms forward. Before he knew it, the Seeker was sent careening backwards off his feet, crashing directly into a small fruit stand that had been set up at the roadside. He broke the wood, and the Rodian that operated the stall itself leapt out of the way and started hurling profanities at the Miraluka in a language he frankly didn't understand,fruit juice dripping into his purple hair.

But Appius wasn't done. He raised his right arm into the air, targeting a large, yellow neon light that shone upwards. He pried it from the wall as bright sparks erupted from the sockets and sputtered skywards like tiny embers of doom. The Dark Jedi brought his arm down and the neon sign followed suit, crashing into the wooden stall as an orange and yellow storm burst from the electrics contained within the sign itself. Flames arose from the stall itself as the crowd gasped in shock and awe at the brutality on display. Some choose to leave the area due to the risk to their own lives.

"Frakking Jedi," Appius muttered, taking a deep breath from the effort exerted. He then shook his head, removing the Jedi's influence from his brain. It was a good attempt, but it would take more than simple hypnosis to get to him. "Now where was I?" he said as he cocked his head to the side.

He turned his attention back to the Zabrak, the local populace giving him a wide berth, not wanting to ignite his ire.

Electricity crackled in between his fingertips, ready to finally finish the job he had come to do. But suddenly, he felt it. He turned back to the burning wreckage and watched as a two-metre tall figure walked out of the flames like a phoenix from the ashes. His armour ripped and torn in places, shards of fruit and tiny cuts adorning his flesh, yet he was relatively unharmed.

"Let me guess, you saw it coming?" Appius bellowed towards him sarcastically. The electricity in his hand faded as he prepared to confront the Jedi once more.

Cal didn't justify the question with an answer. He'd already tried to talk him out of fighting and, judging by his reaction, peaceful negotiations were clearly off the table. He had to stop Appius killing the Zabrak, he had to stop him following the dark side of the Force, and most of all, he had to try and redeem him. If there was even a speck of light left inside of him, he would find it. He gripped his weapon in his hand once more, and with the Force on his side, he did his best to ignore the sting of his minor injuries as he moved to close the distance between them.

One way or another, he would end these nightmares. He would make sure of it.

Caldorous gripped his saber with both hands as he stared down his opponent. Appius Wight. The holocrons Cal kept had always warned of the danger of emotion and how a Jedi should seek to control theirs, if not eliminate them entirely. But Cal couldn’t possibly suppress the fear he felt, gnawing away at him. Appius Wight was no man, he was a demon clad in the flesh of a human. Night after night he had awoken from his slumber to the sight of yellow eyes rimmed by red circles, red like the blood that surrounded him in pools.

Wight bore the yellow eyes which haunted his dreams but the tinges of red were not present. Perhaps Hector Ricmore had been right, perhaps Appius could be saved. And if he couldn’t, Caldorous would have to cut him down. He could not, no he must not allow the futures he saw to take place.

“"You make good target practice. Most everything I use this against shrivels up and dies, but you. You can take it, can't you big guy?"”

Cal blinked in surprise as tendrils of Force Lightning shot towards his face. Blue met yellow as the stream lashed against his hastily timed saber block. The stream continued for several moments before it cut off. Appius stood still with a smug smile on his face, having not moved an inch from where the fight began.

“I suppose things would have been too easy had you fallen to that. Let’s mix things up shall we?”

The human spread his arms out wide before pulling them towards himself. The shattered pieces of the sign flew through the air hurtling straight towards Cal.

The Miraluka spun on his heel, yellow saber a blur as he slashed out at the incoming projectiles. His blade cut through each part of the sign as they fell to the ground harmlessly.

Feeling a rush of pride/satisfaction/elation from Appius, Cal turned to face his opponent as a flash of blue filled his view. Reacting instinctively he brought his saber into the path of the light. Gritting his teeth, Cal held firm against the barrage of lightning.

“My my, you are good at this aren’t you? But can you handle two?”

Raising his other hand the human let out a burst of Force Lightning at Caldorous. The blast smashed into his legs sending him face first into the street.

Groaning in pain Cal sunk deep into the Force, letting it flow through him like a balm. His pain numbed and wounds ceased to bleed as they slowly began to heal.

“That...looks...like...it...hurt” Appius wheezed out the continuous usage of the Force beginning to wear on him. Refusing to lower himself to respond to such banter, Caldorous gathered the Force within him and prepared himself mentally. Picturing a needle piercing flesh he dove into Appius mind, searching for anything he could use.

He saw images of The Collective killing civilians, cutting them down one by one. Appius raw fury surged through him, overwhelming his thoughts.

The human struggled against him desperately. ‘He is definitely hiding something.’ Cal thought as he forced his way deeper.

He saw Appius on The Nesolat station bodies piled in a hallway. Determination/relief/regret/loss.

“GET OUT OF MY MIND!” Appius screamed mentally and physically.

With his concentration split between the interrogation and healing Hector was forcibly thrown out of the mental connection as a splitting pain ripped through his head as feedback. His head pounded as he glanced at his opponent.

Blood dripped down his nose, giving a macabre look to a face of utter, apoplectic, fury.

‘I need to get him talking again, force him to fight on my terms.’ Cal though.

Staggering to his feet Cal waited for his opponent to do the same. Looking Appius in the eye he stated “It seems we won’t get anywhere at this rate. Shall we move on to testing the strength of our blades instead of the strength of our minds?”

"Speak for yourself, you haven't done anything to me yet." - Appius says, breathing slightly harder. "But you know what? Fine, I'll indulge you."

Beams of amber and emerald lit up the night sky.

Cal stepped forward bringing his saber diagonally downwards in a cut towards Appius’ left shoulder. Appius brought his saber up to meet it, absorbing the force of the blow. Cal swung downwards towards Appius' right leg. Sulphur struck again and again only to be intercepted by jade.

Cal twisted and coiled his body like a snake as he struck with wide slashes and pivoted into precise stabs. Appius defense was resolute, meeting every slash, redirecting every stab, and giving ground to avoid being overwhelmed.

Seemingly at an impasse, both combatants stopped to assess one another, neither willing to make the next move.

"Something wrong?"

There was, and for someone who specialised as a Sorcerer, Appius was surprisingly competent with a blade in his hand. A fact that surprised Cal as he held firm in place in case the Taldryanite tried any more of his sorcerous tricks against him.

"You don't have to do this," replied the tall Miraluka as he tried to appeal to whatever conscious remained within the Dark Jedi.

"This again?" Appius inquired. "Need I remind you that drawing our lightsabers was your idea?"

"Please, I implore you, you don't know what I've seen."

"To be honest, I doubt you've actually seen much of anything without a pair of eyes."

Cal started to get exasperated, his body ached, his muscles burned, and even with the soothing energy of the Force behind him, he was far from one hundred percent. The only upside to this situation was the human was panting heavily himself from overuse of his powers. Regardless, if this fight dragged on for much longer someone was going to get seriously hurt. either them or one of the people standing by watching the fight occur with a mixture of shock and awe.

Yet, no matter what he said to the Taldryanite, he was met by a mixture of smarm or anger. But from what little he'd managed to pry from Appius' mind, he knew he was carrying a lot of guilt. Guilt that undoubtedly twisted his mind and turned him from the light.

Then there was the matter of the unconscious Zabrak that lay just a few feet away. Appius' attention was thankfully diverted away from him, but he had to wonder how long for? He had an idea, it was brazen and foolhardy. But if he had any chance of getting through to him, if Hector was right, then this would be the way to do it. He deactivated his weapon, an action that surprised all those around him, especially his opponent.

"Appius," he said as he took a deep breath. "I forgive you."

Silence dropped between them, the air thick as the embers from the fruit stall continued to burn next to them. Whilst the scent of smoke was unpleasant, it was a welcome change from the natural, toxic fumes of the Refugee Sector.

"What?" Appius questioned as he gripped his blade tighter in his hands.

"You heard me, I forgive you."

The Force revealed the Sorcerer’s aura recoiling slightly at Cal's words. Yes! He was finally making progress! He just had to be careful with his choice of words and what he did with them. If he tried to breach Appius' mind again and he fought back he could lash out worse than before, and with so many innocent people circling around them, that wasn't a risk Cal was willing to take. He had to tread carefully, the next few words he uttered could determine the fate of this battle, and not just his future but Appius' and the Zabrak whom he was trying to kill.

"I've seen a lot, Appius. The deaths of hundreds of people, the horrid burden you place upon yourself, the weight in your shoulders. That is a lot for one man to take. I'm sorry for whatever happened, I don't know what occurred aboard the Nesolat but…"

That was as far as he got.

Jets of blue and white streamed towards that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The source came from Appius' hands and it was only due to the Force's preemptive warning that he was able to reactivate his weapon to defend himself. The streaks of lightning collided into the blade and the sound of the electricity that screeched into his ears dominated over everything else.

It was clear his choice of words was poor.

"I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT OF MY HEAD!" Appius roared like thunder, the sparks dissipated out of his hands, his breathing ragged, and his amber eyes began to adopt the red circles that Cal feared oh so much.

The Sorcerer raised his hands in front of him and strained as he pulled a burning piece of scorched wood out of the flames and launched it directly at the Miraluka. He only just managed to dodge, though it flew straight into the path of the onlookers who scattered away from the incoming projectile like a flock of cattle.

It was as Cal had predicted and foreseen. Appius' emotional state was getting worse and he was getting more reckless as a result. With his lightsaber in his hand, the Seeker launched himself at Appius before the Ektrosis Aedile could do any more damage.

In response to this advance, Appius gripped hold of his weapon, activating the emerald coloured blade with a distinctive snap-hiss, he launched the weapon out of his hand towards the Miraluka with as much strength as he could muster. It arched through the air and threaten to take off his head and whirled horrifically like a floating guillotine. Despite this, the Vizsla member was able to bat it away from him before it could do any damage.

He closed the distance with the Dark Jedi and thrust with a swift strike aimed directly at his forearm, but before it could connect, Appius' saber returned to his hand and he reactively parried the strike before it could connect with his flesh.

Cal remained steady and reacted accordingly, at face value, it seemed the Jedi was unprepared for combat. His stature oddly lax and haphazard and yet, as Appius was discovering, that was far from the case. He struck out at him like a dragonsnake, coiled and tight one moment then fluid and refined the next like a spring that released its pressure. It was something the dark sider was unaccustomed too. Normally he'd be able to discern which fighting style his opponents were using and adjust accordingly but he was struggling with this one. He could make out the smooth, precise movements of Makashi and the haphazard stance and motions of Niman but outside of that he struggled to recognise any decisive pattern which ultimately led to him doing what most form three specialists do best, hope and pray for a mistake or opening to present itself.

Easier said than done, Appius was exhausted and he knew it. Even his basket-weaved defence was beginning to show cracks in it as a result of fatigue and he was only just able to meet each strike reactively as he backpedaled and circled around the area to try and create some distance between them. Green and yellow crashed in a brilliant display of glimmering lights and colour.

Cal tried to keep pace, advancing on him as he retreated, determined not to let him have an inch of breathing room, and whilst the Sorcerer might have been exhausted, he wasn't particularly fresh either. His injuries and use of the Force up to this point had taken its toll on him. His muscles ached and burned with every move he made and only sheer determination kept him moving. He would not allow his visions to come to pass! Even if his body crumbled and turned to ash, he would fight to his last breath.

Then there was the issue of the crowd. The onlookers were too close to the action for Cal's liking and it caused a horrible distraction. An innocent getting hurt was not something he wanted to do and he decided to do something about it before someone got killed.

He retreated back a few paces and gave himself enough distance between himself and Appius so that the Sorcerer couldn't instantly strike him down. Turning his head to the crowd, his eyeless form met with as many faces as he could, at least ten, before he focused on his mental prowess.

"You want to go home." The Miraluka uttered and then waited. Nothing happened at first until a small murmur broke out amongst the crowd that surrounded the few Force users. It seemed certain individuals were in a trance-like state as they shuffled away. The few other people unaffected by Cal's action were a mixture of confused and bewildered as they left the scene for no other reason other than 'he told them to'.

Appius could see his opportunity and smirked sadistically at the typical Jedi, so concerned about those around him he completely lost focus on what was in front of him, it was a foolish mistake and a fatal one at that.

Appius launched himself from where he stood and ran towards the tall Miraluka with as much speed as his legs could muster, his lungs screamed for him to stop but he pushed through his fatigue as best he could. This was his opportunity to end the fight, consequences be damned. In response, Cal thrust his yellow blade forward and hoped to end the fight with a quick thrust, though it never connected. The Taldryanite called upon the Force to power his feet and launched himself off the ground and over the Miraluka, his sudden mobility caught the Seeker completely off guard and as the Human landed on his feet, Cal turned to face him, a warning from the Force in the back of his mind warned him of the imminent danger, only for a sweeping motion from the tip of a green lightsaber to connect directly into his knee caps in retaliation.

He collapsed onto his sternum and bit his tongue, fighting back the urge to scream as he tried to call upon the Force to soothe his injury, trying to place his right hand as close to the injury as possible until an emerald blade pierced right through his palm.

"GAAAAH!" Cal screamed at the now gaping hole in his hand as it burned with an intensity that felt hotter than the molten rivers of Mustafar.

"Oh no… you don't. No more healing for you… not … today," Appius said between gasps of air. "Stop looking so… pathetic." The Sorcerer dropped to one knee as he did his best to recover from the fight they'd just had. What remained of the crowd began to disperse, now that their 'entertainment' for the evening had ended.

Cal slowly lifted his head, his lips quivering from pain as he forced himself to speak.

"You aren't going to kill me?" The Seeker managed to voice.

"I want to, believe me, I do," Appius replied as a small smile graced his sweat-drenched face. "But I have something better in mind."

Forcing himself into his feet, the Sorcerer managed to catch a glimpse of his target’s body from just a few feet away. Raising his right hand, he gripped around the fallen Zabrak's bulky body like a tether and pulled it towards them.

Cal recognised the being's aura immediately as a sense of dread began to take over. He remembered this exact scenario playing out in his visions.

"I'm not going to kill you this time. Instead, I'm going to give you a lesson in messing with people's minds. I'm going to kill him right in front of you, and you are going to watch."

Cal's heart thudded hard in his ears as he summoned the strength to throw his left arm in front of him in a futile attempt to reach them.

"No, please. PLEASE! It's not too late for you, Appius! You can change!" The Miraluka pleaded and gritted his teeth.

Appius slowly turned his head towards him, his amber eyes coated by a red inner circle full of malice and hate. He smiled at the Jedi one last time as it stretched into a sick toothy grin.

"Oh no, my dear Jedi. You should have known it's far too late for me."

As soon as he finished his sentence lightning erupted from his fingertips and crashed into the Zabrak's body like a wild thunderstorm. The only sound that could be heard aside from the electrical surge, was Cal's pleas of desperation.

Caldorous studied his opponent. Appius had suffered much despair and trauma, rather recently at that based upon the strength of his response and how quickly he lashed out. Yet taking advantage of those feelings would no doubt prove difficult. Appius had already shown the capability to shrug off his attempts to influence or gather information from his mind. Cal doubted that he could convince the human to stand down even with his persuasive ability.

Unease and self doubt permeated his being. He wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to Hector. His journey to find himself, his newfound knowledge of the mental and healing arts, made all but useless by the dogged determination of a madman.

The crowd watching the fight gave off a frenzy of emotion. Some were excited at the display of combat between the Force users, a rare sight on many worlds. But most of the refugees gave off Fear in drovnes. Not fear, but Fear. They worried about how this conflict would impact them. They had already been driven from their homes, would they even survive to find a new one? They remained to watch not because of the desire to see the outcome, but because they feared fleeing would draw the ire of Appius Wight.

Despite all the fear and bloodlust, Cal felt something different. A small Zabrak child held tight to her father’s chest gazed at the Jedi. He couldn’t believe what he sensed—, the child was brimming with hope. Hope that she would one day return to her home. Hope that the Jedi would protect her family. They were heroes after all, daddy told her so.

The Miraluka breathed deeply, gathering his worries, his fears, and releasing them into the Force. It did not matter what destructive abilities Appius possessed. It did not matter that he employed these techniques with no care for the innocents around him. For Caldorous Syr was a Jedi, he would not fail.

Determination blazed within his chest. He could feel the pull of the Dark Side which swirled around Appius Wight, reinvigorating him and granting him strength. “Ghahahaha! Can you feel it Jedi? How hopelessly outclassed you are? Can’t you see how pointless it is to cling to dead traditions and the light when the galaxy is swallowed by darkness? I don’t think you see much of anything with that rag on your face.”

Ignoring the jab about his race, Cal responded. “As long as even the barest ember of light remains in the galaxy it will resist the darkness.”

Appius chuckled. “Such resistance is futile. The more light you bring against the dark, the longer the shadow you cast. You Jedi create enemies everywhere you go. It’s only a matter of time before the light is extinguished.”

“Such a fight is never futile. Every life saved and those inspired by our actions live as proof of that.”

The smile left the human’s face. “But how many do you save, and do you truly save them? You limit yourself far too much, costing lives with your inaction. I once shared your naivety. It brought naught but failure and death. Now I possess the power to accomplish whatever I desire, something the Jedi always lacked. Allow me to demonstrate.”

The Dark Jedi spread his arms wide and his face scrunched up in concentration. The air chilled and a stench of ozone filled the Refugee Sector.

The Dark Side crashed against Caldorous in an overwhelming tide. “What are you doing Appius?”

The human refused to respond, eyes shut in concentration. A sharp bang echoed from behind him. Turning towards the noise, Cal saw several cracks forming upon the shop that Appius’ target had left previously.

Bringing his arms upwards, Appius tore the roof from the shop and suspended it in midair. “What. Will. It. Be. Jedi? Your. Life? Or. The. Lives. Of. The. Crowd.” The Dark Jedi taunted, forcing each word out through gritted teeth.

Fear shot through Caldorous but was quickly extinguished in the face of determination. Reaching out with the Force, he connected the minds of the crowd. “Run, leave here as fast as you can,.” he commanded.

The crowd stopped gawking at the fight and began to scurry away as fast as they could. In the chaos of their flight the little Zabrak was knocked to the ground, scraping her knees. The child stared fearfully at the incoming roof, as tears began to stream down her face.

Reaching out once more with the Force, Cal tried to pull back on the roof to no avail. Appius’ hold was too strong, the roof falling too fast for him to redirect it in time. Changing tactics, he grasped the Zabrak before flinging her out of the impact zone, maintaining the hold so he could slow her and allow her to land safely.

Taking advantage of his distracted state, Appius ignited his saber and brought it down across the Miraluka’s shoulder blade.

Screaming out in agony, Cal dropped his saber and collapsed to the ground in pain. It didn’t matter, he told himself, the child was safe.

“Look at you, reduced to this state over a child. Now do you see what I mean, Jedi? You lacked the strength to protect them from my attack, forcing them to run and almost get themselves killed. This is the end for you.”

Cal’s left arm hung uselessly in the air. Reaching deep within, he spread the Force throughout his body, focusing it on numbing the pain of his arm. Grabbing his saber with his right, he activated the blade and blocked Appius’ overhead swing. Twisting to his feet, he backpedaled from the onslaught of blows from the Dark Jedi, who sought to end the fight.

“You think you have convinced me of the shortcomings of the Jedi, but all you have done is showcase your own weakness and insecurity, Appius Wight.”

“What did you say?”

“Look around you. You claimed the darkness has given you the strength to achieve your goals and allow you to protect people far better than a Jedi ever could. You have gained strength, that is true. But you have lost sight of what matters. In pursuit of credits and power to make you better able to protect people you have endangered the people of this sector, people you should desire to protect. The truth is that you are a coward Appius, you fell to the Dark Side rather than face your own inadequacy.”

The human’s face contorted in rage. “Enough!” he shouted as he began to attack at an increased pace.

Emerald crashed against citrine. Cal grimaced as he felt exhaustion begin to seep into his movements;, repeated usage of the Force and his offensive actions were beginning to take their toll.

Appius continued to advance, common thought thrown out in return for the power of wild swings. His breath came out in ragged bursts, too exhausted to draw upon the Force in any meaningful capacity.

Cal was forced backwards, stumbling and losing his saber after a poorly executed block.

Desperation fueling his action he grasped the tendrils of the Force used to previously read Appius mind. Gathering every bit of strength he had left he threw himself against Appius’ will.

Pushing his right arm forward he ordered “You will leave this planet and return to Clan Taldryan.”

The human twitched as he fought the order. “I...will not. Get out of my head!”

Gathering himself Cal tried again. “You will leave this planet and return to Clan Taldryan.”

“I will...nNo!, Stop that!”

It wasn’t enough. He needed more. Reaching down inside himself, he remembered the Zabrak child’s hope, the belief Hector had placed in him, the smiles and laughter of Clan Vizsla gathered together once again.

“You Will Leave This Planet And Return To Clan Taldryan!” Cal ordered. Blood began to stream from his ears and nose, the power put into the suggestion more than his body could bear.

A glazed look overcame Appius as he repeated “I will leave this planet and return to Clan Taldryan.”

As the Dark Jedi left, Cal staggered over to the thrown roof whilst clutching his unresponsive arm. Putting his back against the roof, he let out a sigh of exhaustion, /relief, and/victory as he sat against the debris.

The scampering of tiny feet caused him to raise his head towards the sound. The Zabrak child had returned.

Excitement shown on the girl’s face as she gestured to the space behind her. “See! See! Look daddy I told you he’d make the bad man go away! Just like in all the stories you used to tell me!”

A taller figure came out from behind the girl. “Thank you for saving us.” He stated in a gruff voice.

His body ached, his eyes and nose bled, but Cal couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He had saved them.