Meanwhile on Corellia..., #00ffff
The young Nautolan was staring down the barrel of a blaster carbine.
As the breath froze in his lungs, the green-skinned boy's eyes grew into even larger dark pools at the sight of a metallic finger tightening on a trigger.
And then, with all the grace and power of a demon from heaven -- or perhaps an angel from hell -- he was there. The Thisspiasian Jedi Sentinel. A massive snake with four arms, at the hand of which were menacing claws which now reflected the Corellian sun. A yellow lightsaber staff was ignited in the hands of the Mid-Rim knight, revealing the powerful style of Djem So as the bearded serpent waded into the sea of droids like an enraged berserker.
A shadow passed over the boy only a second later, the blue-skinned Twi'lek Consular reflected in the child's eyes as the learned Jedi gracefully planted himself between the remaining droids and the youngling. As the Niman master skillfully applied the tenants of Makeshi in using his lightsaber with one-hand, the Twi'lek used is now free hand to push an open palm back toward Zak.
An invisible hand slammed into the small Nautolan, lifting him up and pitching him several feet back through the air toward the cluster of younglings now huddling together on the open sidewalk. Striking back down on his back, the boy skidded along the ground before flipping back up, his legs going up over his head as his hands planted palms down on the street and the lithe, acrobatic Nautolan pushed himself back upright. There were several scrapes and scratches marring his greenish skin, but otherwise the boy seemed no worse for the experience.
And then a hail of blaster fire erupted.
The Nautolan's blue training saber came alive again, training supplanting instinct as the boy did exactly what he had been trained to do -- he reacted as though this was a match with training droids and immediately moved to deflect the incoming bolts.
The fact didn't stop the otherwise occupied Twi'lek child-minder from belting out the obligatory, "Zak! Cover them!"
Well, duh, master.
A series of mechanical squeals and electrical explosions accompanied the Thisspiasian's passage through a line of firefighter droids, his blazing staff spinning as the snake-like knight alternated the hands he used to wield the weapon. Rearing up to an impressive height on his serpentile tail, the bearded Jedi spared a moment to look for shelter for the exposed younglings. "The alley," the Sentinel barked, prompting all the small heads to turn in either direction, until one of them pointed out the opening between buildings that the Jedi meant. "Go. NOW!"
There were times that adults were to be argued with.
Okay, so those were usually most times insofar as Zak was concerned. Particularly when associated with bed times or foodstuff that was leafy and green in color. All things being equal, the Jedi's tone made it clear that this was not one of those times.
The blue shoto whipped through the air as the Nautolan immediately snapped into a Soresu defensive orbit as he faced the incoming onslaught of both targeted and stray blaster bolts, moving backward as he stepped back toward the alley into which his clan was now retreating. The first handful of blaster bolts, everything went exactly as he had been trained. He breathed as he'd been instructed, he felt each move before it happened, relied on the Force rather than his eyes.
But this wasn't a test. And, inevitably, Zak wasn't going to score a hundred percent even if it was.
The blue shoto nicked the underside of a blaster bolt, altering it's angle but not so much that it missed the boy completely. A shrill yelp echoed through the street as a burning sensation set the boy's left shoulder on fire. It was a scratch, but it stung his senses sufficiently to send pins-and-needles through the child's left arm and spring tears of pain to his eyes.
And there was still the problem of incoming blaster bolts.
The boy had been a half-second late in reacting to the next. To compensate, he hurriedly spun his blade -- sending the blaster bolt sailing into the crowd of people still in the street. The boy's stubby head tendrils stood on end as embarrassment caused his moss-green face to instead glow a vibrant shade. "Sorry!"
Another blaster bolt, in-artfully redirected, sailed through the elder Togruta's apple cart, sending out an explosion of fruit pulp as apples soared everywhere. "SORRY!"
And, if anyone thought it couldn't get much worse than that, the next blaster bolt to ricochet from off the child's training shoto sailed outward across the street and, in the same moment he'd batted it, Zak had a feeling of incalculable dread as though he knew from the start where that was headed. "Oh, frell..."
Wait, the Jedi master hadn't just heard him say frell had he?
The deflected bolt struck the left side of the scaffolding that the window repairers were standing on, collapsing the left side and sending the workers scrambling to find something to hold onto as they were swung out from the building over three stories above the ground. The window pane that they had been working on replacing slipped, shattering on the street below in a shower of glass.
"I'm soooooo SORRY!"
This was not how stuff worked in the training room of the Jedi Temple.
By the time that the young Nautolan had stepped back into the entryway to the alley, he was trembling. The fine-tined, tight bladework had begun to be unraveled with the boy's nerves. Fear, doubt, and anxiety clouded his ability to feel the Force. Instead of letting go, he tried to grasp too firmly, too desperately, at the tenuous clues that had once sparked his instincts. Where he had once had insight to see what could not be seen, now he was blind. His reactions were slipping, the chopping sweeps with which he now wielded the lightsaber in retreat a poor example -- as though he had forgotten his Soresu training.
Another step back and he was inside of the alley. The corner of the building to his right blocked his sight from the firefighting droids, taking the youngling out of the fighting. Though by no means had it stopped, as evidenced by the explosion of dust and brick that accompanied a stray blaster bolt to impact a section of wall near where the boy now hid.
He hesitated there a moment. The Jedi were still in trouble. He should do something to help them, shouldn't he? The boy wiggled his toes as he swayed back and forth, shifting his weight anxiously as he wrapped both hands about the handle of the training shoto, nervously tightening the grip as he turned the lightsaber in his hands.
He didn't know what to do.
The serpentile Jedi Sentinel shot into view for a moment, barely more than an instant, as the bearded Thisspiasian gave a quick inspection of the alleyway into which the younglings had retreated. Then, fixing his eyes on the small Nautolan, barked, "Go!"
And then he was gone. The bearded snake having coiled and then shot back into the fight as quickly as he'd come, leaving the green-skinned Nautolan youngling standing there still shaking and want for breath. As the adrenaline that had briefly fueled his movement evaporated within him, the sudden clash of emotion overwhelmed the boy. Grimacing, tears welled up in the dark, obsidian eyes of the youngling.
He was frightened.
Shutting down the lightsaber, the small boy spun and put his head down as he barreled down the alleyway in pursuit of his youngling clan. A young Rodian girl was farthest behind, so as the Nautolan caught up with the group he naturally fell into step behind her. With the alleyway crowded by dumpsters and parts of droids, there was only room for the younglings to move in a single column, so each one fell behind the other. Following the leader.
But only the leader knew who he was following.
Up ahead, toward the exit of the alleyway, a Republic clone captain in uniform gestured for the younglings to follow him. And the youngling in the lead, or even the two behind him that might have caught a glimpse of the clone trooper had no reason to question or doubt that they were being led to safety. After all, clone troopers were loyal to the Republic. And they worked alongside Jedi. So they were friends.
After the first youngling had turned into the offered sanctuary, the second and third followed immediately after. And then each youngling behind them followed suit not because of the clone, but because they followed the person in front of them. At the rear, a Rodian girl saw the boy ahead of her duck into a room and she followed without a second thought. And behind her, a Nautolan boy did the same.
Darkness there, and nothing more.
