The world narrowed to a single point around me, muting the hiss of the Darksaber that was drawing across the air as it passed through my wrist and severed it from my hand. The pain was immediate, and I watched as it began falling in slow-motion, with the hilt suddenly slipping from my fingers, which had lost all grip in them.
But that was not all... In the back of my mind, a new image surfaced. One that I had hoped I would no longer see and one that I thought I had dealt with.
I was not in the Mandalorian arena for that brief moment. I was the other man again, back in the Rakatan prison, hearing the screams, while forced to get in and fight. Suddenly, the way the fight with the Chieftain looked and that suppressed experience began blurring together, the crowds' current noise mixing with the cries from that vision. It felt raw, and I tasted sand, salt, and copper on the tip of my tongue. I felt my chest tighten, the same kind of panic on the verge of returning as pain flashed through my body... Kill, maim... murder... crie and fear death, fear the pain and everything...
No.
This time, something was different. With all that happened since then... I think I had time to actually... Grow. I felt myself, and the difference between being there and looking at something from an outsider's perspective. Just by that, I felt my mind calm down, not just as myself but even within that residue of a forgotten vision. I felt the Force as I should, as it was flowing into me, through me, connecting me to everything, through time and space itself.
I got it...
It was a type of realization. Yes, the pain was there... The loss was there, too. Be it my hand or something else, loss was inevitable. Just as death was real and terrible, it was... inescapable. These feelings were not illusions to be dismissed or suppressed. I had to face them because they are part of me and part of life. Suddenly, I understood that I would feel them more and more, especially if I continued to live. If my powers allow me to feel what others experience, this will include pain and loss, which I can't allow to overwhelm me. I can't shut myself off because I fear feeling them ever again. That wouldn't be... right. Without ever admitting it, I had been terrified of that vision, and I never wanted to think about it... But right now, I had no other choice. I was facing my own loss and possibly, my own death.
What was I really feeling? Thinking about it, I realized that I wasn't angry... nor was I afraid anymore. I was... at peace. Because I came to an understanding of something important on my own.
Snapping back to the present, I knew what to do. Loss is inevitable, but that doesn't mean we can't do nothing to prevent it from happening. The Force will guide us to help those who need help and to those whose time has come to go... And... It was not my time, not yet. The Force was telling me that.
The Chieftain misjudged the point of my defeat, and I capitalized on it. He thought the fight was over the moment he cut my hand off, and he thought my lightsaber would fall. He was already in motion to slice a second time, the black blade moving into a second swing, towards my head, intending to decapitate me.
No...
With calm and calculating eyes, I watched my severed hand fall away, while my leg kicked out in the same motion. I felt the current of my will and the Force surge within me; it was guiding my aim. Makashi is an art of economy and moving on the edge. It requires precise footwork, minor corrections, angles that let you slip past forceful arcs like water stepping aside. I'd studied it for years, and now, I saw something that maybe only I could.
Contact.
My feet kicked the hilt in the air, sending it flying, straight into the wrist of the Chieftain, surprising him, even if I didn't see his face. Even if I couldn't feel his thoughts, thanks to the Ysalamiri on his back. It was evident from the fact that he failed to react. The hit made his arm jolt as the sharp emitter section of my curved hilt stabbed him, sliding straight between the joints of his armor with enough force to change the arc of his swing.
It was all I needed, as now I had enough space to move in. The Darksaber's arc cut the air toward where my neck had been just a moment ago as I stepped, making a surgical pivot that put my shoulder past the blade's line by the breadth of my collarbone. I kept twisting my body, letting the Darksaber shave some hair and the thin edge of my robe as it screamed past me, making me feel the heat of it on my skin... but it missed.
I wasn't done. My uninjured arm reached out, grabbing my saber as it bounced off his arm, the indigo blade coming online the moment my fingers wrapped around it. Good. Whatever trick he has, it only disables the blade... it doesn't mean the weapon itself becomes unusable. Keeping up my momentum, seeing his arm still in the swing as the Darksaber was still going down, yet to move into a different arc or get raised to defend, I counter-attacked. It was the result of my opponent's overcommitment, which gave me a significant advantage. My next step was small and perfectly placed as I was already inside his guard, close enough that the tip of my blade met his throat, right at the seam, right where it was allowing him to move his head around. His armor's chest plate and helmet were to overlap there, but with his motion, the way he turned his head to look at me... There was the tiniest opening that I was aiming for.
Mercy is for the innocent... With that thought rushing past me, I drove the blade through his neck before he could twist away. There was no hesitation in my strike. None.
The tip slid through the gap and found soft tissue with a quiet but horrible hiss. I want to believe it was over quickly for him as my blade appeared through the back of his neck, before I pulled my hand back, watching his body stiffen, the Dark saber still buzzing as he was holding it with two hands, finishing his overhead swing just then.
It was that moment when I finally began to hear sounds again: shouts, screams, chants, and drums... I then realized that everything I did happened under a second or so, while to me, the whole thing felt like slow motion, as if it was going on for minutes on end. When I blinked, the Darksaber hissed, turning off, and the body of the Chieftain swayed, toppling over to his right side... dead.
"KAEL!"
Ah... Vila... Turning, I watched as she launched herself over all obstacles, with two blazing orange blades in her hands, as she moved with the single-minded fury of wanting to reach me, knowing she wouldn't make it... but then... I managed to reverse it all before she could arrive. I watched as her face turned from incredible anger and pain to overwhelming relief as she skidded to a halt right before me, panting.
But she wasn't alone as HK was coming after her. I barely registered the sound of him dropping past a guard until a blast cracked the air and a guard collapsed mid-step, clutching his arm. HK had not been idle... Huh? The moment Vila moved, he had taken a sidearm in a lightning maneuver I don't think any of them saw coming. Neither did we. The result was that now he stood with his blaster, aiming at the others, sweeping the crowd while backing towards us, warning them that if anyone else rushed, he would begin shooting.
Of course, by then, all around the ring, the atmosphere buckled in on itself. Some were yelling in anger, but... as far as I could feel, some were cheering, being way too enthusiastic.
"This doesn't look good..." Vila hissed, and I couldn't tell if she was talking about my missing hand or about the situation around us. Maybe both.
[Cheerful Announcement: That was an excellent kill, Master Meatbag. Update: I have acquired a new toy. Query: Should we kill our way out of the pit?]
He swept the blaster toward the crowd, his servo-locked aim following the closest Mandalorians who were shouting at us, daring them to try... anything. I was just about to say something when the Unifier's voice boomed within the cavern.
"ENOUGH!"
It was like a crack of thunder right next to your ears, and the effect was almost immediate. The people froze, suspended in the air, as a heavy silence descended onto us, his voice echoing off the stone walls, slowly dying off until nobody dared to move or yell. Even Vila stiffened at my side, her sabers lowering just a bit as if her muscles obeyed before her mind did, bringing them back to guard position, growling a little in anger.
At the far end, I watched as Mand'alor the Unifier rose from his seat, surrounded by the other clan leaders, all of them looking back and forth between him and us. He didn't hurry at all; he just surveyed the arena, then swept the people present, announcing his decision without shouting.
"The duel is finished." Simple. Simple as that... I was expecting some resistance, and perhaps he did too, continuing without giving dissident voices a chance to speak up. "Clan Farkun invoked the Rite of Challenge. Their Chieftain demanded justice by trial of combat, and the Jedi accepted. Both fought under the eyes of the clans, under the law of Mandalore. You saw it. I saw it. We all saw it." He gestured toward the body on the arena floor. "The Chief of Farkun struck first with the intent to kill. His blade sought death, so the Jedi answered in turn, as is his right. The duel was decided between them. Anyone saying otherwise can come to me personally with their grievance because what came after—" his visor flicked toward Vila, then to HK, "—was irrelevant. By the time they moved, the strike had already been made and the matter was closed."
I exhaled slowly, feeling that it was indeed over. The Unifier was not merely defending me; he was also defending himself and his own authority. If the clans denied this ruling, they were not only calling me a cheater, but they were saying Mand'alor had no authority to recognize victory when he saw it. I didn't want to delve too deeply into Mandalorian politics, but I could sense that those who would question his rule might start to see their voices silenced and weeded out... But that was just a feeling, watching as he turned slowly, his visor sweeping across the Chieftains around him.
"I'm waiting."
But there was nothing.
Even the Farkun loyalists remained silent; some shook their heads in acceptance of the verdict without opposition. At my side, Vila's breathing started to calm down while she looked at me, her sabers still on, but I shook my head once. With a sharp flick of my thumb, I powered down my blade, making her flinch.
"Kael—" she whispered.
"Do it," I murmured back.
For a heartbeat, she hesitated, but then her jaw clenched, and she reluctantly mirrored me, closing down her lightsabers and straightening her back. As if taking it as our agreement, Mand'alor nodded and then raised his voice once more.
"The matter of Christophsis is settled. The guilty man was delivered, and the clans have their justice. Mandalore will not pursue this matter any further." With that, he lifted one gauntleted hand in a flat, unmistakable gesture. "Disperse!"
As if a spell had been uttered, the people began to rise, while those with the Farkun Clan's markings entered the arena to retrieve the body. Watching them, HK clicked his stolen blaster to safe, then tossed it carelessly aside, his optics dimming to their normal glow.
[Smug Statement: I knew you would win. I already logged it in my databanks as fact. Addendum: Your odds were twenty-two percent at best after you lost your arm.]
"Great..." I managed a weak smile, "Thanks for the vote of confidence..."
[Explanation: Even before it, it was only fifty-eight percent. Cortosis is a Jedi's natural enemy.]
"Cortosis?" I asked, understanding it, as I looked at the Chieftain's body being lifted and carried away. "No wonder my blade sputtered after making contact..."
"The bastard..." Vila scoffed, gently picking up my severed hand, bundling it in her own outer robe.
I was about to say something when a new figure was heading towards us, making me tilt my head, as it was the same captain as before. Vila almost reached for her sabers when I gently nudged her, standing there, holding my stump, waiting for what he wanted.
"Jedi Knights," He stated, surprisingly respectful, "The Mand'alore wishes to speak with you... Privately."
"Now?" Vila asked, growling once again, watching as he nodded.
"Yes... Now." He answered, "He wants to express his apologies for your loss." He glanced at my arm, "Please..." He bowed his head as a warrior would towards another in respect, "Follow me."