Star Wars - Jedi Fugitive

Chapter 15

"I don't think he likes me very much either."

"He has been fighting for so long now, that he simply has a hard time trusting..." She trailed off.

"Trusting a Jedi?"

"As I said, he sees you as a defender of the very thing he hates."

"And what about you? How do you see me?"

She sighed.

"It's complicated."

"I've got time."

"When I was a little girl, I was taken from my people. I was made a slave and forced to obey cruel masters. It was a Jedi who gave me back my freedom." She looked at Jethro and he could see the conflict in her eyes. "I still remember what the Jedi used to be like, before they were slaves to the senate themselves."

Jethro nodded. "I see."

"You still have the capacity to do so much good for the galaxy if you would just free yourselves from the senate. Stop being their slaves." She stopped and seemed to catch herself. "Not that any of this matters."

"The order is still out there. I'm sure they're already fighting back."

"Maybe."

The door slid open and Daneran and Hanc slipped inside.

"We have to go tonight."

Jethro forced himself into a sitting position against the wall. "Why?"

"We overheard a couple of the guards today. They're going to bring in a star destroyer and park it right over top of the impound lot.

"When?"

"From the sounds of it, not until tomorrow."

"Then you're right. We move tonight."

"Hey man, you gonna be able to?" Hanc asked.

"I'll be fine."

Marsie looked at him concerned.

He knew what she was thinking. He was thinking it himself.

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Jethro spent the rest of the day trying to rest for the night.

Deep down, he knew what they, what he, was going to face that night. He knew that Dom, Blazer, Leadfoot, and Corsair were still out there.

They were commandos. They never gave up on a mission until it was completed.

Or they were killed, he mused.

He didn't know if he could bring himself in his heart, let alone his body, to do what needed to be done.

Around noon, Marsie came back around to his sleeping roll and sat down again.

"You are in no condition to move."

"I know."

"My husband wants to leave you behind."

"I'm sure he does," Jethro laughed, regretting it instantly as the pain shot through him.

"Ahah."

Jethro laid his head back down and closed his eyes.

"We need to stop the bleeding," Marsie pressed.

She was right, he knew.

"Get me my saber."

She seemed to know what he had in store, and made no objections or remarks as she complied.

He started to take the bandages off, but she put her hand on his to stop him.

"Let me."

When the bandages were off, the wound could be seen in full.

Blood still oozed from the six inch gash and the tendrils of infection could be seen stretching out from the blood stained swath of skin.

Jethro ignited his blade, the blue light shimmering and filling the room. He adjusted the length to be as short as he could make it, just over two feet, then handed it back to Marsie.

Looking her in the eye, he nodded.

She shoved a crumpled rag into his mouth and Jethro braced himself.

The pain he experienced was like nothing he was prepared for. It shot through his entire body, like his nerves had been set on fire. It was like a branding iron had been shoved in the wound.

He bit down hard on the rag, trying not scream in agony.

When he woke up, the sun was already beginning to set outside. His wound still burned like it was on fire, but where he had been bleeding was cauterized. If he was careful, he could make it to the ship, where, hopefully, there would be real medical supplies.

He realized of course, that when it came to being careful, it didn't matter what he did.

The night ahead was going to be cruel, one way, or another.

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