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sunderedazem · 2 years

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Crescent Moon Rising - Surrender (WIP)

Okay! This is the full draft section from the Six Sentence Sunday Snippet that I posted earlier. It IS subject to revision, of course, but as for right now this is The Plan!

Context: Corrain is the only member of his crew that is trapped on board the Emperor's Fortress when the mission to Redeem the Emperor goes horribly wrong. He's taken prisoner, tortured, and when the Emperor's Child Force-brainfuckery fails, he's put under Castellan mind-control and given an implanted shock collar. He and Scourge escape a year and a half later by stealing an Imperial Shuttle - and the Emperor's Hand promptly put a Blacklist bounty on Corrain's head. Only, they don't want people to know their pet Jedi has gotten loose, so they falsify the mark. Astayr (BH, LS) takes it, chases them down to Nar Shaddaa - and Kessin (Smuggler, Neutral) is recruited to get them in contact with the Jedi and Republic. They end up meeting on Alderaan- and Corrain surrenders to the Republic by tossing Kira his lightsabers, and my Consular takes custody of him. (Five of my OCs are present at this exchange)

The glow of angry ruby plasma sizzled in the air, one of his lightsabers glowing in Kira’s hands, and suddenly cloying, choking anxiety clawed at the inside of his chest, nauseating guilt grinding his stomach into pulp as the dawning horror broke over her face. She stared wordlessly at the bled blade, and then, as Jun turned to her with a raised eyebrow, he saw the glitter of moisture on her eyelashes, visible even from meters away behind the transparisteel visor of the mask sitting heavy on his face, hiding his identity. At his side, Scourge stood silent, the Force an iron wall about him even as Corrain could feel power crackling through his entire body like poison, burning as it went, the numb fear-fury feeding its advance a knot of pain in his chest. Behind him somewhere, Kessin’s soft inhale of horror echoed the cracking facade his friend- former friend, former Padawan - wore across a trembling lower lip.

He wanted to comfort her, to tell her it was insignificant, an easily-fixable mistake. He wanted to yank his lightsabers back into his hands, draw them both, send the now-reddened lightsaber blades spinning into Scourge’s neck, just to be sure he couldn’t drag Corrain back to that hellhole Fortress and tear him apart again- just to be sure- He wanted to cry, to curl up in a dark corner somewhere and waste away. He wanted it all to disappear, the past year little more than a vivid nightmare, for him to awaken whole and free. He wanted to rage, to break things - fragments of his whole past - into pieces so small they could never all be collected. He wanted to take Vitiate and tear him apart, watch him choke on his own blood - he wanted the everpresent threat to his free will destroyed.

And yet- he knew this haunting rage would only upset Kira. It would upset T7, upset Doc and Kess and Kalvo maybe even Rusk, even if it was only because they knew a version of him that was kind and naive and committed to the Jedi over everything else, rather than this bitter, angry shell. And it paralyzed him, made him doubt himself, even as the familiar cold shadows of the Dark Side called to him, swelling through him like a flood through a funnel, feeding off the terror threatening to drown him. But there wasn’t any other choice for him, not anymore. Not after he’d let the spark in his heart explode into a storm of lightning, not after Vitiate had torn open his mind and dragged out the cruelty and darkness buried so deep within in him, not after he’d been stripped of everything that had made him who he was. Not after he’d been pressed into the mold of a Sith and come out a broken puppet with blood on its hands. Vitiate had to die for him to be free again, and for that he had to be strong. But even his Fall hadn’t freed him from the Emperor - it had only proved he was dangerous, that the darkness inside him needed to be choked off, strangled at its source. And yet - and yet he did not know if he could let go. If he could once again be the person that Master Orgus had trained.

Master Orgus.

He choked on his breath suddenly at the memory, emotion cresting high and tight against the back of his throat. His master, who had tried to protect him from beyond the grave. Who had asked Kaedan to look out for him, who had trained Bengal Morr, the only Jedi that had tried to rescue him. Orgus, who had died trying to shield him from Darth Angral. The man who had believed in him, so fiercely that his spirit followed him into the heart of the Sith Empire and reached for him there, even as he was lost in the dark, eyes glowing yellow. And now Kira, who was looking at the corrupted lightsabers in her hands like her world was falling apart. Kira, who’d defied the Emperor twice and won, who’d thrown away everything she’d known at ten years old. The Padawan he’d been so incredibly fortunate to help train, now a Knight, who had held him while he’d cried after Orgus had died. Kira, who’d stood at his side until he’d fallen to the Emperor’s lightning and ordered her to run. And Kalvonût - the Jedi who had been as his elder brother for so long, carefully helping him through the loss of Master Orgus, gentle even in the face of his grieving anger. The man who had nothing but kindness in his heart, even when the only words Corrain could muster were cruel or despairing. And Kessin, who had sent them stupid holomemes ever since their first meeting on Tython, who had come for him even when he was for all intents and purposes Sith, when they hated Sith more than anything else.

For them, he could try. He could try to be the person he once was, for their sake. He had to.

“...Kira?” he said, hating the uncertain tremor in his voice and the grating muffled sound that his mask overlaid on each word. She looked up from the lightsaber then, flicked the blade off and let the deep ruby beam of plasma disappear. Across the soft plain, Jun paused, and Master Kaedan cocked his head to the side, both visibly confused by his focus on the young Knight. But she just shook her head, hooking his surrendered lightsabers onto her belt, eyes still wet even as she laughed, voice thick with grief.

“...Did…did you do this? To my master’s lightsabers?” she whispered then, the dark azure of her gaze pinned to the eye plating of his mask. At his side, Scourge stood silent, true to his word that he would say nothing of Corrain’s choice, merely watching. The cold metal in the back of his neck burned, a reminder of the price of defiance. A price he’d pay over and over again, if it meant he could do something to undo what had been done to him.

“The Emperor did,” he answered, voice still tremulous and faint, and on his other side he could feel the waves of horror of Kessin’s dawning realization. “He broke the kyber crystals, bled them so I wouldn’t have anything left of who I once was. And then…he…he broke me too.”

It was now or never, and so he reached up, hooking gloved fingers under the lip of his mask and pressing the release catches. Cool Alderaanian air stung his burning gaze, chilling the dampness of tears on his cheeks into frost as the seal broke. Churning fear bubbled under his skin, the crackling draw of the Dark tugging at him. But- they deserved to know. Kira deserved to know. Satele too, and Kalvonût. And so, hands shaking, he pulled the helmet over his head, letting long white hair spill free, and dropped the mask onto the soft soil below his boots. Scourge clicked his tongue in mild disapproval, shaking his head irritably. But there was a certain begrudging admiration there too, deeply hidden in the dark burn of his presence in the Force.

“I suppose we never could snuff out that last little spark of light in you, Jedi, no matter how far you Fell,” the Sith scoffed, ignoring the sudden shock rippling off the Jedi across from them, and the mild surprise of the Mandalorian hunter watching them from the trees, horror mixed with relief and joy evident in their expressions. Kaedan in particular looked stricken, the ashes of his promise with Orgus blowing away in a cold Alderaanian breeze. And then Kira took a shaky step forward.

“Corrain?” she called, uncertainly, recoiling slightly when his gaze met hers, once-grey eyes poisoned with golden yellow. He flinched on instinct, tension pulling on his every muscle, cloying terror creeping up the back of his throat again. Since when had he flinched at shadows, and feared the Jedi?

“...I’m sorry I took so long, Kira,” he forced out, blood pounding in his ears. He blinked as the mountainous horizon blurred - another frigid arc curved down his cheek. Kira’s face was a sudden smudge, all the emotion currently pent up inside him finally starting to boil over, escaping. The frigid burn of the metal implants against his spine ached then, and he had to fight back a wave of raw dread, irrationally expecting pain to explode through his head and down his back, searing him from the inside out. The air felt thin suddenly, weak, like there wasn’t enough oxygen saturating the atmosphere. “I-I’m sorry…I c-couldn’t-”

The clack of heavy weaponry being put away suddenly echoed across the plain, the Republic soldiers - Deitente? Was that Havoc Squad? - all holstering their weapons at a gesture from their leader, her feline blue eyes bright with understanding, and then Kalvonût strode forward, raw compassion like a sun shining from behind his face, so bright he had to duck away. The Sith Jedi reached out slowly, movements deliberately lethargic as if to give him time to pull away, and as he set both hands on Corrain’s shoulders, gentle and grounding, a soft curtain of peace and stillness fell over the chaotic roaring in his ears. He choked on his own breath, the panic and grief and pain rising in his chest clashing with Kalvonût’s gentle aura, friction vibrating in the air between them. He could feel the sparks starting to form in his palms, shadows gathering to cool his blood.

“Kalvo- I-”

“It’s all right, Corrain,” he said gently, and after a few slow heartbeats Kalvonût gently pulled him in, wrapping both arms around him protectively. The shadows at his back wavered- dissipated- and then broke, and Kalvonût’s presence around him swept warmly into the void at his back. “Breathe. You’re alive. And you’re safe now.”

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