Star Wars - Lost Tribe of the Sith 01 - Precipice

toward
Omen
’s crushed nose. A shadow was falling on him. He lit his lightsaber—
    Suddenly he saw it—or it saw him. Another winged creature, high over the near ridge, circling and watching. Watching
him.
Korsin blinked sand from his eyes as the creature soared away. It was the same as the one from the descent—almost. The difference was …
    Thoom!
Korsin felt himself lifted into the air and before he could register what was happening, he slammed into the wreck of
Omen.
Devore marched into view, pebbles rolling before him as if propelled by a magnet. Trapped against the crumpled frame, Korsin struggled to stand. His father’s familiar look was gone from Devore’s face, replaced by a bleak nothingness.
    “It’s over, Yaru” Devore said, raising his lightsaber high. “We should have done this before. It’s been decided.
I’m
Commander Korsin.”
    It’s been decided?
The thought flashed through Yaru Korsin’s mind even as the lightsaber flashed past his ear. It sparked against the
Omen
’s battered armor. The commander raised his weapon to parry the next stroke—and the next, and the next. Devore hammered away. No style, just fury. Korsin found nowhere to go, except along the side of the ship, sliding backward toward the port-side torpedo tubes. Three of the doors had been opened in the descent. The fourth—
    Korsin spotted the control box, just like the one he’d remotely manipulated in the descent. He flexed toward it through the Force, and ducked. The firing pin activated, bulleting forward and catching Devore in the lightsaber shoulder. The torpedo door tried to cycle open, but pinned against the ground it only dug into the strata,sending a stream of rocks flooding beneath the ship.
Omen
lurched forward again, with Devore sliding in front of it toward the edge and the ocean below.
    It took a minute for Korsin to get loose from the handhold he’d found on the ship, and another for the dust to clear. Finding
Omen
surprisingly still, he gingerly stepped away on the crushed slate.
Omen
’s bow had impaled itself on a razor rise on the promontory, just meters from the edge.
    Ahead of it, partially buried in rubble, lay his brother. His golden uniform shredded, his shoulder bloodied, Devore writhed on the precipice. He tried to kneel, shrugging off the surrounding rocks, only to collapse again.
    Devore still gripped his lightsaber. How he could still be holding on to it with the whole world falling down, Korsin didn’t know. The commander fastened his own lightsaber to his belt.
    “Yaru?” Devore said. It was a whimper now. “Yaru—
I can’t see
.” His face was tear-stained, but intact. Then his lightsaber rolled free, plummeting out of sight over the cliff’s edge and revealing the oily pink stain on his hand.
Red Rage.
That was what had been in the vials, Korsin thought. That was what had given Devore his manic power, and that was what was stealing from him now.
    The shoulder wound wasn’t bad, Korsin saw, lifting his brother to his feet. Devore was young; with Seelah tending to him, he might even survive out here, presuming he could live without the spice. But … what then? What could be said that wasn’t already said?
    It’s been decided.
    A helpful hold became a tighter grip—and Yaru Korsin turned his brother to face the setting sun over the ocean. “I
will
complete my mission,” he said, looking over the side to the ocean yawning far below. “And I will protect my crew.”
    He let go.

Chapter Four
    It was nearly night when Korsin appeared on the twice-trodden trail, pulling a makeshift sledge crafted from a mess table. With thermal blankets and the remaining foodpaks heaped upon it, Korsin had needed the help of the Force a few times to get it down the mountain. Straps from pouches cut into his shoulders and neck, leaving ugly welts. The single campfire had become several. He was glad to see them.
    Ravilan appeared glad to see him, too, after an initial surprised reaction. “The beacon! Is it working?”
    “I pushed the button myself,” Korsin announced.
    “And?”
    “And we wait.”
    Ravilan’s eyes narrowed in the smoky haze. “You know where we are? You spoke to someone?” Korsin’s attention had already turned to unloading the packs to anxious crewmembers. Ravilan lowered his voice. “Where … are your Massassi?”
    Korsin didn’t look up. “All dead. You don’t think I wanted to do this myself, do you?”
    The quartermaster’s crimson face paled a little.