Defiance

[Clusterfact]

The planetary winds had picked up since early morning, throwing loose snow into the air to mix with the front of ice that was already ravaging the frozen surface of Hoth. Alkhet had been out since first light, and on the run since early the night before. The Zabrak Jedi had a pension to piss people off, but had always managed to keep out of serious trouble for nearly 60 years. As all history is inescapable, so too was his.

The old Jedi slowly climbed up the side of a dune of snow and peered into the empty but always threatening blanket of white. After a few minutes of staring into the purgatory, he painfully sat on the edge of the dune with the aid of his knee. Alkhet clenched his hands into tight fists; they had turned pale from the cold and the hours of continued flight with no rest was taking its toll on the regulation of his internal temperature. His eyes closed and he slipped into a light trance and, for a short while, he could feel the warmth creep back into his being. He felt his very life returning to him.

He began tinkering with his wrist-com, desperately looking for a signal. A dull, red light contrasted the never-ending white. Even his robes, brown as was customary for a Jedi, were stained white by the frozen landscape, and clung to its owner with a grudging weight of ice and snow.

Alkhet raised his head, staring blankly over the horizon – a low, thumping, murmur slowly filled the air. Alkhet rolled onto his back, narrowly dodging a speeder, but not before drawing his lightsaber and taking a chunk from the speeder which sped off a ways and swerved into a steep bank. The speeder's pilot drew a lightsaber and charged the Jedi upon landing.

The sound of another speeder approaching and Alkhet knew the final chase had resumed. A Jedi of Alkhet Noth's age was deceptively hard to kill – a fact that these young thugs weren't prepared to deal with. The old Jedi's legs sprang into action: a near-overwhelming energy flowed through his body. Each stride he took was almost as long as he was tall and his feet hardly left a mark in the snow's surface as he vanished into the storm. The second speeder pilot picked up his companion and the two sped off following the Jedi Master as best they were able.

The wind tore at Alkhet's face as he blazed across the icy landscape and his body quickly became fatigued from resisting the frigid temperature. He had only thought about standing ground for a few moments when he fell into a ravine kept invisible by the veil of snow. His failing body was thrown to the ground. He struggled to his feet, his bones snapping and popping, and took in his surroundings. The crevice had dropped into a canyon that had been hollowed out by the elements. The walls were caged behind sheets of ice, which refracted the light at strange angles. The wind howled above him, but there was only a whistle that managed to sneak through the narrow opening.

The sound of the speeder's pounding engine filled the canyon as the assailants approached. Alkhet drew his lightsaber, filling his make-shift tomb with an eerie violet haze. He closed his eyes and his mind became one with the world. The sound of the speeder fell away. Alkhet's existence became as silent as the great Temple. His thoughts became as pure as the ice that was strangling the life from his cage. In his mind, in his own Temple, intruders. He felt the marauder's feet sink into the snow as they approached. He felt the weight of their durasteel armor on his shoulders. He felt the warmth of their breath on the inside of their masks. Their anxiety was his. Their frustration was his. Their fear was his.

Alkhet turned to face his adversaries. Two, armored figures stood before the old Zabrak, neither daring to make a move not out of hesitation, but out of marvel. In the light of the Zabrak's saber, his face was being studied. The horns crowning his head had become gnarled with years. His Jato had mostly faded, the only visible markings framing his face along his cheek bones. His eyes, once nearly golden were now a pale yellow, leaving a faint red ring around his iris.

“It seems you have finally caught your prey. Let me die with some dignity and allow me to see the faces of my murderers.” Alkhet's voice strained as he gazed at the hunters' cold, grim visage. The mask on the right was engraved to look like a wicked fanged beast. The other mask was fitted with a ghoulish face. Both were as lifeless as the material they were wrought from.

The fanged mask stepped forward and pulled back his cowl. A claw-like glove removed the mask and threw it to the ground. A young man with green eyes and thick, curly brown hair stood before Alkhet, his eyes misty. Following suit, the other figure stepped forward and removed her cowl and mask, revealing a young Mirialan woman with raven-black hair and brown eyes. She too, was silently weeping.

“Master, please forgive us.” the young man choked through his words as he and the Mirialan pulled their lightsabers, both emerald in color. The walls of the cave now reflected the color of the Zabrak's ending. A few violet highlights danced on the edges of the walls only to be lost in a twinkling of ghostly green light.

Jedi Master Alkhet Noth had always been notorious for his uncompromising nature. His refusal to settle for anything less was near-legendary, and many speculated it would be his downfall.

In a dark hole, on a desolate planet, the old Jedi raised his saber in one final act of defiance.

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Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!

[Areku99]

I like it.

[Finx!]

Nice. Well done!

[Landscaper]

Very nice indeed. Thanks for sharing!