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Jedi Insurgency 095
🕑 Added 2025-08-25 16:19:20 +0000 UTCThe stars above Eriadu burned with fire and fury.
Explosions bloomed like malevolent flowers in the void, debris from shattered Republic and Imperial vessels tumbled through zero gravity like shattered bones. In the thick of it, amid the shriek of ion engines and the thunderous roar of turbolaser salvos, a sleek, black Jedi Interceptor spiraled between the crossfire, it was death embodied in motion.
Behind it, engines flared blue-hot, the Millennium Falcon howled through the chaos with impossible speed.
Inside the Falcon’s cockpit, Corvus gripped the yoke with white-knuckled fury, and sweat trailing down his temple despite the chill of space. He was going to face the Darth Vader. To say he didn't feel fear would be a lie. Yet he had to do this. The hum of the ship’s enhanced shields surged around him like a living creature, as it shimmered against the constant hail of stray blasts. He had initially wanted to ambush the Dark Lord from invisibility, but that same crossfire that had revealed Yon, had targeted him too. Despite that, he wasn't going to call off the attack run. Beside him, the R4 droid brain chirped cold data in binary, calculating firing vectors with inhuman speed. The Falcon’s quad turrets responded accordingly, pivoting and unleashing a blistering barrage of crimson bolts that lit the void like a thunderstorm.
But the black Interceptor danced between the blasts with terrifying grace. Vader truly was the protagonist, as his movements were almost impossible. It was like facing an AI in a game turned up to max difficulty, one that also had a map hack/aim hack on too.
Corvus’s jaw clenched as he angled the Falcon in a tight spin, dodging a pair of proton torpedoes that screamed past the starboard bow, they detonated in a brilliant bloom that sent his ship into a shudder. Yet he had no time to pay the close call any mind, as his mind, however, was anchored in the storm of the Force. His fury seethed like molten metal beneath the surface of his skin. Yon was gone. His Padawan. His student. Moments ago, his starship had vanished in a blossom of flame and smoke.
That boy had been hurt so much by Order 66, and had so many aspirations for the future. Sure, he may have some anger issues, and even a bit of a violent streak, but he was loyal. Corvus reviled traitors, and was a strong believer in brotherhood. Yon was always the first to back him up, and was vocal in his support. Even if the teen was chaotic at times, he always put in 120% effort. If Vader were not present on this battlefield, his act of sabotaging six capital ships would be subject to praise. The kid was genuinely skilled, and was even better than Jax when it came to wielding a lightsaber. Youth cut young was a tragedy, but when it happened to his student, his boy…!!!
Grief pulsed in Corvus’s chest like a second heartbeat. But he didn’t suppress the inferno bubbling the blood in his heart.
He pulled upon his dark emotions like never before. At the same time, he used Pause to balance his thoughts, and think of all the good times he had shared with his student. Of the secret laughs he had when the black haired teen would trip during practice, or even how the annoying rivalry between Yon & Jax wasn't really that bad. Or even how Yon was just beginning to understand the power of peace. Corvus held these emotions, these memories, and married them to his malevolance.
Darkness and light mingled within him in perfect union. They arced invisibly into his body and soul, sharpened his senses, his focus to an unholy degree. He perceived Vader more clearly now than he ever could with his eyes or ears. This sixth sense saw anger radiating from the Interceptor like radiation from a sun.
The Force whispered truths unseen by ordinary eyes: trajectories of upcoming blasters that had yet to be shot, the intent of pilots where they planned on flying next, and the press of Vader’s mind reaching out, hungering for Corvus's own life.
A thousand sensations pressed upon his psyche every second. They were so pervasive, it was almost overwhelming. Yet with the help of Pause, he was able to parse through each and every one of them, and react. Using his heightened dexterity, he pivoted the Falcon throughout the battlefield, dodging 98% of what came at him, and tanking what could not be avoided.
In response to a monstrously large salvo that he sensed, he banked sharply to the side, slipping between the wreckage of a crumbling Venator-class cruiser, and dodged a series of heavy blasts. Its spine snapped in two, the ships’ damaged hangars belched escape pods and fire into the void. Republic ARC-170s swarmed around him, engaging a wave of Imperial V-wings. The space above Eriadu was a charnel house, where one ship died every breath he took.
But Corvus could not aid his allies, as he had eyes for only one opponent.
The Falcon’s guns fired again, this time, they scored a lucky shot. One bolt grazed the Interceptor’s wing. Vader spun in reply, dipping beneath a broken Republic gunship and retaliating with a barrage of laser fire. The Falcon’s shields flared against the assault, R4 screeched as he diverted power.
Inside the cockpit of the Interceptor, Vader’s masked breathing remained steady. He moved the controls with ruthless efficiency, but it was not only his body that piloted this murder machine, but his will. Circuits twisted under his mental dominance, obeying his nascent grasp of mechu-deru, the ancient Sith art of machine control. The ship became an extension of his wrath, his hatred. It screamed forward like a blade thrown through the Force.
Corvus sensed the change in Vader, yet the Force gave him insight into his state of mind. For all the anger and rage, Vader was still very much damaged. The Dark Lord could not hide his hurt, his pain. Perhaps, once upon a time, Corvus had felt pity for Darth Vader. Now, he only saw him as the pathetic traitor, murderer, that he was.
"You fear death." Corvus whispered, his eyes narrowing, voice low with contempt. “You fear answering to Padmé.”
During this exchange, the Falcon looped upward, rolling between two dueling Star Destroyers. Its underbelly scraped a bout of turbolaser fire, but the shields held. From behind, Vader’s ship screamed closer, lancing red bolts across the Falcon’s flanks. Corvus jerked the controls, spun downward through the chaos of the battlefield. Vader had a bead on him, and was splashing his shields with a heavy dose of laserfire. Meanwhile, the Interceptor was weaving through the massed wall of turbolasers like a firehose parting a crowd, he was indomitable, and unrelenting in his actions.
“Wooooo-OOOOOO!!!” R4 freaked out as the shields were running dangerously low.
Corvus was sweating, yet a grin began to spread across his face as a plan was starting to take shape. He then covered the Falcon in a fresh sheen of [Energy Resistance] as his shields were about to fail.
Time seemed to slow, and Vader’s telegraphed triumph in the Force was quickly replaced by the impatient rage of a child angry that his mother was denying him sweets. Vader, at this moment, was experiencing ‘gamer rage.’
The Falcon surged toward a crippled Acclamator transport, then suddenly vanished behind it, making sure he was out of Vader’s line of sight before coating the ship with invisibility. Cutting power for a heartbeat, he reappeared on the Interceptor’s flank.
“Now.” Corvus breathed.
Twin blasts tore from the Falcon’s guns, and they were guided by R4’s calculations, and fueled by his will.
One bolt struck Vader’s shields. Another grazed the hull.
The Interceptor bucked violently.
Inside the black clad cockpit, Vader grunted, reaching out with the Force to stabilize himself. The ship groaned as pieces snapped back into place. He snarled behind his mask, scarred lips pulling back in a silent scream of rage.
"You will tell me.” He hissed aloud to no one. “You will give me the secrets I desire. The power to undo death. I will take them.”
Vader’s hand clenched into a fist, and the systems of the Interceptor pulsed in response, as if it were some living being, no, as if it were a predator desperate to devour its prey!
And in an instant, the Interceptor pulled off a death defying corkscrew, accelerating the ship far past its design. It blurred past the Falcon, and lashed out with blaster fire much more powerful than should be scientifically possible.
The Falcon’s hull shuddered. Alarms blared. R4 screamed once more.
Corvus gritted his teeth, and blood was in his mouth as Vader’s will pressed down upon his psyche. Instead of giving in, and letting go, Corvus doubled down on his righteous anger.
He let it fuel the light.
“Come then, Vader.” He growled, swinging the Falcon into pursuit, its thrusters glowing like a comet’s tail. “Let’s see whose will is stronger.”
And above the burning world of Eriadu, amid the crumbling dreams of the Republic and the rise of an Empire forged in blood, two titans clashed in the stars. One man sought vengeance, whilst the other desired the power to dominate the galaxy.
Neither was willing to yield.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Millennium Falcon screamed through the upper atmosphere of Eriadu, its scorched hull trailed smoke like a wounded beast. Chunks of durasteel plating were peeled back across her dorsal side, and the shields flickered erratically. Sparks showered from a blown panel in the cockpit, and the quad gun on the lower half of the vessel hung limp. Still, she flew, and seemed to hum with a positive light that engendered hope.
Corvus’s face was drawn taut, his breathing was calm, and his eyes burned with undimmed resolve. The flight stick trembled in his hands as he banked hard, tailing the black Jedi Interceptor through the soot-streaked skies above Eriadu City.
Below, the sprawling metropolis was a battlefield. Explosions raged across the cityscape, as Republic remnant forces held key districts against encroaching Imperial legions. AT-TEs advanced through crumbling blocks. V-wings strafed Republic bunkers. Fires and constant explosions painted the skyline in shades of apocalyptic orange and murder red.
Amid the chaos, two Force-wielding titans dueled among the clouds.
The Interceptor that Vader piloted was damaged, smoke bled from a wingtip, and despite his nascent mechu-deru sorcery, the rudder twitched uncontrollably. But despite this damage, he was still fast. Too fast.
Vader threw his ship into a dive, cutting through an Imperial orbital strike beam meant for a nearby tower. The massive spire erupted, casting debris into the sky like shrapnel. Corvus narrowly dodged the collapsing wreckage, cursing under his breath as one engine coughed and sputtered, barely pushing the Falcon past the danger.
“R4, route power to auxiliary repulsors. We’re not done with him yet.”
The droid brain complied instantly. The Falcon surged after the Interceptor, now weaving through the maze of broken towers and anti-air fire streaking through the skies of Eriadu City.
Corvus slaved the flak cannons-an AI-guided defense system designed for short-range ship deterrence-to aid him in this fight. They spun into life beneath the Falcon’s hull, tracking Vader’s movements with eerie precision.
“Let’s see you dance through this.” Corvus muttered.
The flak guns opened fire, filling the air with precise, overlapping bursts. Explosions chased Vader’s Interceptor through the sky, boxing him in, herding him like a nexu into a corner.
He was fast. Too fast.
But under the targeting of thousands of droid aim-assisted guns, and Corvus's own Pause-buffered strikes, not even the Chosen One could remain unscathed.
The black Interceptor banked hard, skimming a burning skyscraper and ripping through the shattered skeleton of an unfinished communications tower. Corvus followed, he smelt blood as Vader’s movements became slightly frantic. He could see it now, the Dark Lord barely had any space to maneuver. This was it, there was a chance to end him right here right now!
His systems beeped, he had a missile lock.
The Force surged around Corvus in that high stakes moment, it carried with it a warning, temptations, and promises of death.
He could feel it: a shot that might end it all. One missile was all it would take, one missile to end the greatest threat to the Jedi on the front lines of this war could be obliterated. The death of Darth Vader, was seemingly in his hands.
But then, at the same time, a soundless thunder echoed through the Force, hitting him like a hammer to the face.
At first it was nothing more than a whisper.
A flicker.
A heartbeat.
Corvus’s breath caught in his throat. The control stick trembled in his hand as uncertainty clouded his vision.
A pulse.
It was faint, bleeding…and alive.
Yon!
His Padawan.
The bond that once felt like a dying ember now sparked like the embers of an almost dead fire. This sensation was weak, but very real. A vision flooded Corvus’s mind: a lake. Smoke on the water. A shattered ARC-170, its wings snapped, its cockpit broken. Yon, unconscious, his life hung on by a thread, his breaths were shallow, and blood was seeping into the water.
He was alive! The skills he had learned, the ability to breathe in space…perhaps even the ability to use [Energy Resistance] learnt through the Mentor ability…somehow, some way, he had survived the attack, and had been knocked unconscious, then crash landed on Eriadu!
Corvus’s vision cleared, and he had Vader’s Interceptor directly in his sights.
His finger hovered over the trigger.
“Fifty percent. The vision had made promises of Vader’s death, but it was a coin flip at best. A delusional lie from the Darkside at worst.” He murmured, and narrowed his eyes as he processed this dilemma.
Fifty percent to slay the Sith.
Or…
His voice cracked as he whispered to himself: “What would a Jedi do?”
The war, the death, the rage, all of it threatened to pull him down into a spiral of darkness that he might not be able to pull himself out of. But in that moment, where the purpose of revenge, the line ‘for Yon’ had echoed deeply in his soul, clarity pierced the storm of his mind.
“I choose life.” Corvus said with great conviction in his voice.
He flicked the missile trigger, hoping for a hail mary attack, but it missed, and Vader’s ship escaped into the clouds. The Dark Lord’s will pressed down upon Corvus, all but saying: “I'll be back.”
Corvus sighed at the lost opportunity, but didn't allow it to get to him, as positive emotions once more colored his face.
He was saving his boy.
The Falcon dropped from the sky, repulsorlifts whined as Corvus brought it down near the smoldering edge of a crash site. Water hissed into steam as the molten wreckage of a starship glowed in the shallows. The ARC-170 lay half-submerged, its nose was shattered against a rocky outcrop, and the rear of the ship was rife with holes.
The landing ramp opened above the water, as he set the Falcon to hover, and he sprinted out of the cockpit faster than he had ever run before. He reached the shattered ARC-170, and there, crumpled against the harness, was Yon
Blood stained the young man’s tunic, and a striking gash trickled red down his brow. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.
Corvus dropped to his knees, and gently cupped the teen's neck, supporting his head, and taking a look at the wound.
“I’m here.” He whispered, his hands trembled as he reached out, his fingers faintly glowed minty green with healing light. “You’re safe, Yon.”
‘If I had hesitated for more than 10 seconds, if I had pursued Vader…he would be dead!’ Corvus thought to himself as he examined the short, black haired teen's condition.
Yon stirred, his eyes fluttering open just enough to see the silhouette of his master, haloed by sunlight and flame.
“Master…?”
Corvus bowed his head, his eyes stung as a tear dripped down his chin.
“Yes…I’ve got you.”
Yon strongly gripped onto Corvus's hand, and stood up to look at the wreckage.
“Master, thank you for saving me…but I sense as if something is amiss. That some great evil could have been purged from the galaxy if only you had let me, let me di-”
“We are Je'daii, Yon. What is the point of all this power, if we cannot protect our own? What is the point of slaughter, when choosing to kill means the loss of your own child? Foolish boy.” Corvus said in a stern, yet not unkind tone of voice.
Yon bowed his head, hot tears spilled down, and the typically hot-headed teen had no words as he buried his head into Corvus's embrace.
Eriadu's sky burned on the horizon as thousands of lives were snuffed out every minute. Yet for a brief moment, in the shadow of ruination, life endured.
Comments
Akito
It is more about the decision between dark side and light side in this moment than his ability to bring yon Back to life. He said it himself if he had chosen to kill Vader in this moment he would have fallen and we can not forget his ability to resurrect is not without limits he can only do so 3 times for the same person and more importantly who is to say that he could have found him on the battlefield after he yon died.
Basically God
They may be superior in the air but there is no doubt that their two to one advantage will be worthless on the land. We have seen countless time just how overpowered Beskar is.
stone kiss
That's some plot hole nonsense. Let him die, kill Vader, bring yon back. He has this ability, yes?
