3rd Person
There are no heroes on the battlefield. Only survivors.
Zevon
"Hrrrmph!"
A rustle.
"Ergh!"
A slight twitch.
"Aaaaahhh!"
I screamed in exertion, willing the fallen rubble to budge.
No luck.
Why did I expect anything different?
"Commander, I can reroute us!" Slip shouted ahead of me. I trusted his word far more than my own abilities.
Reluctantly, I slithered backward through the crevice. Slip followed me closely.
"Let's go!" I ordered with urgency. My master's life, as well as the mission, depended on it.
"This way!" Slip called out, dashing down a detour. I kept up easily; he was too slow.
"Come on, faster!" I barked.
"I'm trying... commander!" the trooper huffed.
As we delved deeper, the frigid air became more harsh. It surrounded me, bound me tighter to my fears and doubts.
"Commander Boltreaver, I'm certain this route will lead us back around to General Gallia!" Slip sputtered, pointing to the mouth of a descending passageway. The tunnel was obscured, cloaked in gloom. I probably wouldn't have noticed it otherwise.
Without hesitation, I redirected my sprint toward the route in question.
However, as we neared the dark descent, I felt an unfamiliar feeling wash over me. I felt... I felt a disturbance in the force. Had my training actually paid off? That aside, the odd sensation could only mean one thing.
Danger!
With my limited range, it was certainly imminent.
"Pshew! Pshew! Pshew!"
A barrage of bright red laser fire briefly lit up the detour, aimed at my vitals.
"Look out!" I yelled as I dove out of the way. Thankfully, I avoided the ambush without injury.
"Aaaaaghh!"
Slipstream... Slipstream wasn't so lucky. I heard his bloodcurdling scream almost immediately after the sneak attack. Whipping my head around to view the carnage, I could see he was in a bad way; sprawled on the ground, struggling to get up.
The unseen foe continued the guerilla warfare, shooting to kill. Sooner or later, Slipstream would be picked off. I couldn't let that happen again.
Without thinking, I sprung into action. I darted forward, grabbed his legs, and dragged him to safety, finding a nearby outcropping that served as cover.
"Thanks... thanks commander. Are you okay?" Slip coughed out gratefully.
He'd been hit multiple times, and that raspy cough was a bad omen.
"I'm fine, focus on yourself. Can you stand?" I inquired, trying to keep my cool. Slip responded by testing it himself. He made no effort to hide how painful it was, but he seemed perfectly mobile.
"Yeah, I..." Slip started, suddenly silencing himself. He motioned me to stay quiet with his index finger. Then I heard it.
The pitter patter. The soft footsteps. The delicate whirring of metal joints and motors. These sounds were nothing like the brutish footfalls of B1s and B2s. I peeked out of our hideout with one eye, trying to get an angle on the perpetrators.
YOU ARE READING
The Weakest Jedi
Fanfiction*OC version of The Weakest Jedi.* The story of a young boy and his foolish dream. Born into the hellish underworld of Coruscant, Zevon was found by the Jedi at a young age and welcomed into the order. There's a slight problem, though... Zevon's forc...
