𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙃𝙔𝘽𝙍𝙄𝘿, clone wars ² ✔

[22] the beast within

The search didn't take long. The group, moving like shadows through the dim corridors, tracked the faint signs of life until they reached the chamber where Master Piell was held. The stale metallic air buzzed with tension, and the distant hum of droid servos echoed ominously down the narrow passageway. With swift precision, they dispatched the patrolling droids—blades flashing in arcs of plasma, sparks erupting with each strike.

Nyx, the hulking creature of sinew and fur, pressed her wet nose against a rusted durasteel door. She sniffed deeply, her ears twitching, then stepped back and slammed her head forward. The door groaned and buckled under the force, hinges snapping, and it crashed inward with a deafening clang.

Inside, a single spotlight cast a cruel, sterile beam on Master Piell. He hung suspended in the center of the room, his wrists bound high above his head by thick chains. His one good eye was closed, his face drawn with exhaustion, yet his presence still carried a quiet defiance. Around him stood an overwhelming cluster of droids, their proton weapons crackling with lethal intent, the green glow of their charge pulsing like a heartbeat.

Nyx didn't wait. A guttural snarl ripped from her throat as she lunged forward, her claws tearing into durasteel plating as though it were paper. The air filled with the screech of rending metal and the staccato pop of severed circuits. One by one, the droids fell, their lifeless husks scattered across the floor in a tangle of wires and limbs. Smoke curled from the ruined machines as Nyx stood over them, her chest heaving, her jaws slick with oil and grime.

Piell's good eye flickered open, a weary but wry smile curling his lips. "Ah," he said hoarsely, his voice dry as old parchment. "They send a monster to fetch me."

Nyx stiffened, her lips curling back to reveal glistening teeth, a low growl trembling from deep in her chest. Her gaze bore into Piell, sharp and unyielding, her entire body taut as a drawn bowstring.

"Nyx," came Obi-Wan's calm voice as he stepped into the room, the blue glow of his lightsaber fading as he deactivated it with a soft hiss. His tone was measured, but firm. "That's enough."

For a moment, the air held its breath. Nyx's growl subsided into a faint rumble, and she shifted her weight, lowering her head. Obi-Wan's eyes flicked briefly to Piell, taking in his injuries, his chains, the resolve still burning in his weary expression.

"We're here to bring you home," Obi-Wan said quietly. Then, glancing back at Nyx, he added, "Even monsters have their uses."

Piell hummed as he rubbed his raw, reddened wrists. "Sure, they do aim to kill people," he remarked with a dry chuckle, his tone as light as if he'd just returned from a leisurely stroll rather than hours in captivity. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he added, "Well, let's get out of here. I've spent far too long in this rotten cell."

He stepped toward the stairs without hesitation, his gait steady despite his ordeal. Obi-Wan and Anakin followed closely, their sabers at the ready, eyes scanning the dim corridor for any sign of reinforcements. Nyx lingered behind, her quills rattling like an uneasy wind chime as she prowled the cell's perimeter, sniffing the cold air for anything out of place. Satisfied, she snorted, her hot breath steaming in the chill, and padded after them, her talons clicking against the floor.

As they made their way down the corridor, the rest of the group—Rex, Ahsoka, and a contingent of clones—joined them, their blasters held high. The sound of synchronized boots and the quiet hum of ignited lightsabers filled the hall.

"We need to find my officer," Piell said suddenly, his tone brisk and commanding despite the fatigue lining his face.

Nyx's reptilian head snapped toward him, her amber eyes narrowing. "Why?" she grunted, her voice a gravelly snarl that scraped through the tension like a blade on stone.