The Rebel Faction

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Water slowly fell from a nearby roof onto his face. His suit stained from the murky water and his pride stained from what had just happened. He lay there in a quick moment of shock. The woman he had come to try and protect had… betrayed him.

His mind tried to process the run of events that had led him to his current position. He had chased after Amara after stopping that pole from falling on those civilians. He had sped off after her as fast as he could and found her with Aretsuya. Irtar had charged in to try and keep Amara from hurting her.

And now he was on the ground. In a puddle. With a Sith and her compatriot standing over him.

At first Irtar was ready to just curl up and await for the finishing blow from Amara when his lightsaber fell at her feet. She would strike him down, and take Aretsuya, bragging about her victory over the Jedi. Irtar would become nothing more than an anonymous blood stain in the long history of causalities in the battle between the light and the dark.

Then suddenly, something inside Irtar snapped.

Amara went to scoop up his lightsaber and in a flash Irtar’s hand was forward, willing through the Force to bring it to him. The large metal cylinder shot through the gloom of the night. Irtar rolled on to his feet and the lightsaber came right into his hands. It seemed some of the lessons he had been practicing on Irtar’s Run had come in handy. He looked critically at the pair, his face twisted into a look of anger and determination.

“I am NOT done yet.” Irtar said in such a serious and dark tone, he probably wouldn’t have recognized it if he was in his right mind. Right now, Irtar’s instincts had taken over. He had just stared death in the face and now he was ready to exchange the favour with Amara.

“You will not cause any more pain. You will not cause any more suffering. And you shall not try to lure Jedi with the false charms of beauty.” Irtar said to the pair of them as he brought his lightsaber to the ready. “This time, it’s for every innocent person your order has harmed over the years.”

For a moment, there was silence. It seemed like an eternity but it was truly only a second. Half a second even. And yet, that half a second seemed to have been divided into the infinite. A brief moment of thought and self-realization of his own foolish. Aretsuya even admitted herself to be a woman of ill-morals. The entire setup seemed to be in plain sight now. It seemed so painfully obvious what they were trying to do.

If he had been raised any differently then he had, he would’ve been in that alley with Aretsuya. Amara would have the perfect opportunity to strike him down there while he was distracted. She would literally have caught him with his pants down. And so instead, they came here at this confrontation.

And then, Irtar was upon Amara.

Irtar charged Amara, bringing his lightsaber in as strongly as he could from her left. He took a swing right for her midsection. The way she had positioned herself cut her off from most directions to move. There was wall behind her, Aretsuya to her right, a lightsaber to her left, and Irtar before her.

She had accidentally left herself open and Irtar would take advantage of this chance while it was here. Amara would feel the lash of his saber, and Aretsuya would have a lash from his words. There was still a part of him that thought maybe she was being influenced through the Force. But right now, it really didn’t matter.

It was fast and vicious, and entirely on instinct. Irtar had never been properly schooled in the art of duelling. What he knew he picked up from people at the temple. Other Knights and Padawans who had a proper teacher, unlike him who was left to the side. He knew different moves, but he didn’t know the proper ways to string them together. Likely if he knew that, the duel would’ve ended far sooner than it had.

But eventually, someone made a mistake and thankfully it wasn’t Irtar.

Irtar’s breaths came short as he stood there, looking down at Amara as she knelt next to Aretsuya. As Amara knelt there, blood flowing from her face, Irtar slowly regained his composure. He looked around at the people watching, most in silence. He hadn’t even noticed them there before now. He looked down at the pair on the ground.

There was this driving urge to strike her down and to end her evil. To keep her from never being able to harm someone again. To see what blood she had left be spilt on the ground for all that she has done, and will ever do again. But a voice nagged at the back of his head. The voice of his former Master, Leia Organa-Solo, telling him to not do it.

‘Killing is not the way of the Jedi. The Jedi respect and protect life. It was the way of the darkside to destroy and end life.’

A clash of nature against nurture. Survival against the lessons taught by his family and his teachers. If he killed her, he would have one less servant of darkness to worry about. But would giving into that urge to kill do to him like his master said it would?

With a whooshing sound, Irtar’s lightsaber turned off and the azure blade dissipated into nothingness. For a moment, Irtar stood there as he pushed those last bits of doubt from his mind.

“I warn you now Aretsuya. Sith do not protect, they destroy.” Irtar said coldly as he looked at them both, lightsaber still held tightly in his hands. “They ruin lives, homes, and families. And if you’re not careful, they’ll ruin you to.”

Irtar turned and began to walk away, casting a backwards glance. There was this brief moment he thought about taking Arestuya away from this. To take her and try to help her understand how this woman had used her only to try and strike at him. But as quickly as it came it passed.

Irtar paused for a moment. "It may be the Jedi way to not kill, but it doesn’t mean I can’t forget it from time to time.”

With that, Irtar put his lightsaber back into his suit jacket and pushed his way through the crowd. They really didn’t give him any trouble seeing what he had just done. It is easy to insult a Jedi when he’s fighting for his life, but when they would be the focus of his attention…

Disenchanted and with an important lesson learned, Irtar left. Leaving the darkness behind him for the darkness ahead.

It is used as a rhetorical device. A choice, when you have no other. But altogether, it is black and white. Where are the grays? One’s thought cut short due to the limitation of options. It is sometimes known as a dilemma.

The human mind had evolved to engage in anything to survive. Fight, kill, and annihilate many just to keep one self alive. Where was the justice? Is there any in human nature to begin with? Aretsuya certainly couldn’t see it at the moment. Why were they fighting? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? Who was right and who was lying? Her head swam with questions, spinning and at the point of breaking from the weight it carried. If she were to stay alive, she would have to commit the ultimate act of the self. The one a human has been designed to carry out. She would obviously choose Amara; Irtar would only wreck havoc. Amara gave her some time to think. She would betray Irtar. But was it really betrayal? Aretsuya wasn’t sure who was right or wrong at the moment, she just couldn’t bear them fighting. It seemed that once it ceased, she’d be left alone, once again.

Intuition, sometimes, proves both potential decisions to be wrong. Where can one run to then?

In the girl’s case, she wasn't sure what the grey areas would be. The mixture of anticipation, dread and uncertainty made it all too hard for her to choose. Expecting it all to end and for her to leave without either Irtar or Amara by her side was wishful thinking. Right now, intuition told her to go with what ever kept her alive longest.

The answer was the flaxen haired woman of striking beauty, holding out a frail and trembling hand and asking her to follow. She was unusually enticed by this woman, curious to see what she had in store for her. Where would she take her? Why should Aretsuya trust her in the first place? It was because of intuition; something just told her she had to take that hand in reciprocation.

One couldn't say she had much of a choice anyway. Either be mauled by a male she was not acquainted with very well, or follow the path of a beautiful stranger. At least, that's what was portrayed in the scene before her.

She was like a caged animal, bound by decisions which disabled her to roam free. At this point, she had lost all hope, and her love urged her on to survive only a bit longer, to play along just to see what they would do to her in the end. Was Irtar really lying? Maybe not. If he wanted to kill her, he’d have done so when she had been with him. But she wasn’t about to take any chances. Not this time.

She just didn’t want anyone to get hurt, especially not over her. It never had any use in the end, after all.

It was happening all over again. But this time, she had her Love. And she had herself, someone who wasn’t present before. She wouldn’t beg at their feet again. Where was this strange bravery coming from all of a sudden?

She took the hand, squeezed it and nodded. How it was so silent, after Irtar’s and Amara’s encounter. How every person watched her, as if their lives depended on her conclusive decision. It seemed to have ended for the other two, but not for her.

Aretsuya waited for something to push her, to enable her to speak again. There was a screech of sirens in the distance, and a few murmurs from the onlookers. The pavement was wet and slippery with dirty water, and it gently splashed as she stepped forward. Then all was quiet again. The seeping of cold liquid into her shoes was comforting, a distraction almost. But like everything, it disappeared, to be replaced by that uncomfortably lingering wetness. She closed her eyes; the momentary darkness calmed her, like a wave of relief. Her cheeks were cold, paler than usual. But her blood was flowing as steadily as ever. She felt calmer when she closed her eyes. She prayed she made the right decision.

“Where will you take me, Amara?”

Sometimes silence is the most difficult burden to bear.