CHAPTER TWELVE: BOND

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    In Prosperity, weather shields ensured those fortunate enough to spend their days under open sky wouldn't have to worry about Tyrne's occasional rains interrupting their pleasure.

    That is, until it started raining metal and transparisteel.

    Aedan had just stealthed his way to the top of the tower-like city and stepped off of an out-of-the-way service elevator. Somebody screamed, and Aedan darted forward to take a look.

    His attention was split between the whirlwind of debris in the sky, spinning around and above one of the tallest buildings in the city, and a male Bith on the ground, impaled by a steel beam that had broken free of the maelstrom and fallen like a shot from a railgun. The screaming woman ran with the rest of the crowd, calling for local law enforcement or Imperial reinforcement.

    Aedan cursed under his breath, and pushed through the panicked throng; something told him that incoming stormies would soon be the least of his concerns. No one noticed him, much less tried to stop him as he ran into the unfinished building. He began climbing stairs and scaffolding as fast as the Force would carry him.

    At some point, legs aching and gut twisting, he started to wonder how tall this stupid skyscraper actually was; the answer came quickly when the rubble storm at its apex chewed away part of an exterior wall right next to Aedan, adding it to the carnage. The resolute young man first recoiled from it, but then got into a runner's crouch and sprinted at the opening.

    With a great leap, he was out into the chaos, bouncing from one piece of detritus to the next. He could've let worry, revenge, or any number of familiar motivators keep him locked in with the Force... but this new Aedan had a new perspective. He thought about that talented, awkward Jedi he had come to love with a rediscovered family bond; if Aedan wanted to save him from the clutches of the Empire, he would have to center himself on, well, not himself for once.

    After one last flip, his ascent ended on what looked surprisingly little like a roof. But when he realized who was gathered at its center, any details about the building or the debris hurricane around him faded away. Drystan was on his knees, hunched over a body Aedan couldn't identify. When he landed, he caught Drystan's attention; when the younger man turned his head, Aedan had to catch his breath as well.

    Drystan's skin was pale, his eyes an unnaturally yellow kind of bloodshot. Behind him, the air shimmered like ripples in a stream; Aedan thought back to the last time he had been caught off-guard by an unseen threat, and was glad for the Force clueing him in this time around. Drystan was oblivious to it, and Aedan realized his brother was weeping over the figure in front of him...

    Every bit of balance Aedan had discovered this night vanished, replaced by dread and fury.

    The body was Maive's.

    Drystan could barely breathe. Aedan was here, and the shock rolling off of him painting a horrifying picture in the Force of how he was about to respond to the carnage before him. He must have known that all the destruction and death was Drystan's fault...

    He will end you, if you do not strike first. Quickly!

    Drystan sprang up with a cry, running at Aedan and throwing his lightsaber. The violet whirl flew so fast it surprised even its wielder, but it was met with an equally skillful parry in a bizarre flash of white light before returning to Drystan's hand.

    Something about a colorless lightsaber blade tugged at a memory deep in the distraught Jedi's mind, but there was no time to address it. He jumped and brought his weapon through an overhand slash; Aedan sidestepped, disregarding the clear opening he had to hit Drystan's unprotected side.

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