𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘

𝟎𝟏𝟒. 𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

014. WESTWARD ASSASSINATION

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JACEN WAS UNEASY AS HE REMAINED CLOSE BY HIS MASTER'S SIDE. The facility was dimly lit, and the halls almost echoed with each step that they took. It didn't help that Brick was tripping over his own two feet what felt like every other minute.

As if to prove his point, Brick tripped again, and a piece of scrap metal skittered off into shadows. His shoulders tensed and he looked around, apologetically. "Sorry..."

"Just watch where you're going," Commander Champion replied and motioned for the Phoenix Squad to progress further into the facility.

"I've got a bad feeling about this..." Jacen mumbled under his breath.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Trigger attempted to reassure him, "We're right here beside you."

Jacen eyed the clone's finger which had the occasional twitch. "I think that's reason enough to worry."

"Just focus on what can be controlled, Jacen," Davin took the moment as a time to teach, "Anxiety only grows if you let it take root. It's a weed that's difficult to remove once you let it in."

Jacen slowly nodded his head, but Captain Marcher lifted a hand and signaled for the group to quiet down.

"You see something?" Champ asked, stopping beside his second-in-command.

Marcher shook his head. "Could've sworn that I heard something—"

The room immediately glowed red as the saber was ignited and the Dathomirian stepped out of the shadows.

"Master?" Jacen looked to Davin for guidance.

"Retreat."

Lieutenant Fang was located somewhere above them in the rafters and provided cover fire from his hiding place. However, their cover was brief as one of the bolts was reflected back toward the lieutenant. Although his armor protected him, he was knocked down from the rafters and landed on top of Brick, forcing the group to temporarily halt.

"They always think they have a chance at escape." The Dathomirian's voice was a low growl and if possible, his sinister grin glowed more than the lightsaber.

"Hey!" Trigger had managed to sneak away from the group and called for the assassin's attention. "I think you've forgotten that you're outnumbered seven to one."

"The odds were against me on Devaron." The assassin chuckled. "That didn't stop the Jedi from crying out for mercy before I slit their throats."

For the first time since he'd started training under the Jedi master, Jacen saw Davin's eyes darken. His uplifting smile dissipated, and was replaced with a heavy, threatening expression.

"You were the cause behind the Devaron massacre... you killed R'avida."

The Dathomirian tilted his head, curious as to what he'd just unleashed. He shrugged and released another cold laugh from his throat. "Does a hunter learn the name of each individual beast that he slaughters?"

A low growl formed in the back of Davin's throat, and that's when Jacen started to make the connection of how close his master had been to Arimiya's master. He'd never seen his master angry before, but it scared him more than the assassin they stood before. Arimiya's thoughts had always been easy to read, she recklessly wore her emotions on her sleeve; however, in that moment Jacen could feel the wrath of Davin that did not plan to let the assassin survive.

"Master..." Jacen's voice was a whisper.

Davin ignored him. Seeing the concern of the Padawan commander, Champ stepped in and placed a hand on the general's shoulder. "Sir."

Davin snapped out of his trance but remained tense. He pulled his hilt from his belt and turned on the cyan blade. He pointed a hand behind him without turning his head, silently commanding his troops to continue their retreat.

"Sir?" Champ questioned the order.

"Take the boy. Head back to the ship." Davin's order left no room for debate. His squad still hesitated though.

"Sir—"

"That's an order, Commander!"

It was the first time that Jacen had ever heard Davin raise his voice, especially toward Champ. He viewed the clone Commander with the utmost respect, but none of that was evident in the moment.

The rest of Phoenix Squad looked toward Champ expectantly. He nodded his head and motioned for the squad to move out.

Jacen's eyes widened and he fervently shook his head. He was mature for his age, but in that moment, he forgot all his training and the fear of a thirteen-year-old boy clutched his heart. He tugged at his master's sleeve, and finally Davin turned away from the Dathomirian.

"Please..." Jacen pleaded; however, his voice hitched as he wasn't even sure what he was requesting of his master.

"Jacen."

The boy lifted his eyes and met his master's firm look. He knew there was nothing he could say that would persuade him to leave. Jacen looked beyond his master at the Dathomirian assassin who patiently waited. Jacen raised an eyebrow and was about to point out how odd it was that he hadn't attacked; however, it was as if he'd jinxed his luck as the assassin suddenly charged.

Davin lifted his blade to block the incoming blow and simultaneously force pushed Jacen back. The boy prepared to help, but Champ grabbed his arm. Jacen looked back, prepared to protest, but Champ shook his head.

"He's given us time."

"We can't leave him."

"He'll be alright," Champ contradicted, "He's pulled through worse scraps." He increased the volume of his voice and shouted out to the others, "Fall back!"

Whatever childish immaturity he'd latched on to beforehand disappeared and was replaced with a stoic look as Jacen nodded his head. Although training to be a Jedi, it was during a time in which war had changed the meaning of what a Jedi was. No longer were they guardians of peace, but warriors in a war that they really had no business fighting. Whether he liked it or not, he was a soldier and good soldiers follow orders. Fighting the instinct to stay behind, he turned and ran to catch up with Phoenix Squadron.