Control The Uncontrollable // The Acolyte

32. Headache

Slowly, your eyes rise from the darkness. Everything was cloudy. You groaned as you turned around. Your body was warm, sweating, aching... naked. The fever dream felt so real, like his hands were still on your body, but you were alone. Like you always were. You slowed your breath, and looked around, confused. This was not your usual place, but a headache came storming in, distracting you from any worry.

Yes, you had grown a taste for liquor - Not a tolerance. The regrets were haunting you as you clung into the bathroom sink. You reached for the glass, filling it with water. Ugh, even the water tasted like sand. The glass dropped to the floor, breaking into a million pieces. You swore under your breath. You looked into the mirror. The person reflecting back to you seemed tired, exhausted. You closed your eyes. Never had you felt this alienated from your own body. You tried to clear your mind, and you opened your eyes, when you suddenly noticed a massive bruise around your neck.

It was marks from a hand. You began to feel the dizziness pressure your spine. Your eyes fell down at your body, noticing more and more bruises. You tried to take deep breaths. You took your hand around the bruise around your neck. It was exactly where you had dreamt his...No, no, no, this was the alcohol speaking. You must still have some lingering in your body. You could do loads of things with the force, but you had never dreamt bruises to a reality. You let go off your hand, as you noticed something behind you in the mirror. It couldn't be...

Slowly you walked towards the night stand, when an object you believed you had lost forever laid there.

Your old lightsaber.

The one you had given to...

You immediately grabbed the Lightsaber, as you noticed a note underneath it.

"For our future"

Your body froze, as panic washed over you.

Qimir, he's here...

He is going to kill Yord.

It wasn't a fever dream. It was real. Qimir was here. He had touched you. Marked you. Loved you. It wasn't an illusion. It wasn't an illusion. Furthermore, it wasn't an illusion. The words rang in your head. Shit, it wasn't an illusion. Yord, Yord was in real danger, so were all the other Jedi. Your hands began to tremble. Qimir had used your disturbed, weak state to ensure you wouldn't be a hindrance. Your eyes desperately scanned the room for clothes to use.

With the lightsaber in your hand, you stormed out to the town. You needed to find a vehicle, the Jedi outpost was too far away to walk. You saw a towns man with his speeder buying his vegetables. You shook your head, before you ran towards his speeder jumping on it, to his fury. Furthermore, you immediately began to drive, and ignited the lightsaber for him to understand who you were.

"WE ARE ALL REPUBLIC," You shouted.

The man was not happy, but even from far away, you sensed his peace that at least it was for the greater good and not some thieves he had lost his speeder to. Not that at this moment you were sure you felt any better than a thief. You felt a great disturbance in the force. Lives getting lost. You shut your eyes. You didn't need sight to drive. The force would guide you where you needed to be. You needed to trust it wasn't too late. When you jumped off the speeder and opened your eyes, you were not where you thought you would be. You had stopped by his ship.

"The coordinates...I can get the coordinates" You whispered under your breath when you realized why the force had guided you here.

Qimir had a complex ship, not one easy to jack into, but as this wasn't your first time inside his ship, it went faster than expected. You ran over to the cockpit and scanned through the screens. You needed to find the coordinates to his home planet, but his codes were more complex than his own ship. You focused your mind, and were able to notice the patterns in his system and retrieve the coordinates. You locked everything down, leaving no traces. You ran through the deserted land and broke up the door with the force.

Nothing could prepare you for what you saw. It was a manslaughter. Knights, Padawans, Master, laying spread out, dead. Your colleagues. All gone. Your lips began to shiver. Your eyes scanned the room, trying to register everyone. Deep down, you were praying that, somehow, one escaped. All you saw was bodies floating at the top of each other, but not Yord or Tasi, his Padawan. This is the actions of a monster, of the Stranger, but the only one facing you in the corner was Qimir, unmasked. With Yord in chokehold.

"I thought I would wait for you darling, to say goodbye," Qimir smirked, but all you could see was the desperation in Yord's eyes.

"Yord," You sobbed, trying to walk closer, but Qimir immediately tightened the grip around Yord so you stepped back.

"I wanted to tell Yord, that while they were busy working... " Qimir whispered, studying you. 

"You were on your knees, moaning my name," A smirk grew on his lips.