Ahsoka pressed forward, her twin white lightsabers slicing through the air in relentless assault. To end the fight quickly, she employed her most familiar technique—holding the lightsaber in her left hand in a reverse grip, eyes locked onto her opponent's strikes, searching for any opening.
She was using the Form V: Shien lightsaber style, originally meant for deflecting blaster fire, but adapted to close-quarters combat with remarkable effectiveness.
Her reversed left-hand grip gave her precision in exploiting weaknesses, while her dominant right hand launched powerful strikes, forcing her opponent into hasty defenses.
But the Fifth Brother matched her strength—perhaps even surpassed it. Ahsoka couldn't find an opening. Worse, he kept pressing close, not allowing her any distance to maneuver or retreat.
"Does he have backup?" Ahsoka wondered, her desire to withdraw growing stronger.
Facing Ahsoka's onslaught, the Inquisitor had nearly lost an arm several times. He was drenched in sweat, on full alert, and cursing Seventh Sister for not arriving yet. "That damn woman's trying to get me killed!" he thought.
Meanwhile, Seventh Sister was crawling through a ventilation shaft, bumping her helmet against a protruding pipe with a jolt. She ignored it and kept crawling forward.
"I'll catch that brat today if it's the last thing I do—drag him to the Tribunal and let them have their fun!"
"Wait, wasn't I forgetting something...? Eh, whatever."
Amir was getting anxious too. This stormtrooper was unexpectedly tenacious—he'd held him off for two minutes already. And it had been nearly twenty minutes since the spatial disruptor activated. If hyperspace reconnected and the prison ship jumped, he'd have no chance of escaping.
After all, this ship was heading for an Imperial prison.
Amir launched another offensive. The way the trooper fought gave him a strange sense of familiarity.
Just then, the vent cover at the port suddenly burst open—Seventh Sister leapt out in her black armor.
"DIE!" she shrieked, igniting her double-bladed lightsaber and hurling it toward Amir with a spinning motion.
Amir moved to dodge—but noticed the stormtrooper beside him still frozen, apparently unaware that the Inquisitor was attacking them both.
Without hesitation, Amir kicked the trooper hard in the waist, knocking him aside while using the recoil to throw himself in the opposite direction.
The spinning saber passed cleanly between them. Neither was injured.
The stormtrooper's helmet flew off from the kick—revealing his face.
"Kayin?!" Amir's mind reeled. No wonder he felt so familiar.
He didn't say it aloud—if the Empire knew about Kayin's ties to a wanted criminal like himself, the "honest soldier" would be in serious trouble, maybe even worse. His future in the Empire would be finished.
Kayin had messaged him before departing for "an off-site mission," but Amir had never imagined it would be this mission.
Then again, it made sense. This was just a routine prisoner transport, supposedly risk-free—just the kind of assignment they'd give to students.
All a coincidence. Blame the Force.
The Inquisitor called her lightsaber back to her hand with the Force and rushed toward Amir.
He pulled out his blaster and opened fire to block her path—but it barely slowed her down.
She pounced like a beast wrapped in shadow, her crimson lightsaber slashing at Amir's vital points.
Amir dodged with agility, rolling and weaving along the floor, watching her every move. But her speed far surpassed his—several strikes nearly ended him.
He tried sneaking in shots during his dodges, but she dodged them all as if she saw them coming. Finally, he tossed the blaster aside and focused on her lightsaber hilt.
Imperial Inquisitors favored rotating double-bladed lightsabers. The circular grip in the center allowed for high-speed spinning, sometimes even hovering like a propeller with Force assistance.
But that also made the hilt the weapon's weakness. During swings, the user's hands were extended farther forward than with a single-bladed saber—exposing them.
Finally, after narrowly dodging another slash, Amir lunged forward—and grabbed the hilt.
"You filthy rat! I'll tear you to pieces!" Seventh Sister shrieked, activating the spinning mechanism while screaming with rage.
A sudden force blasted into Amir. The spinning blade surged forward like a heatstorm—just inches from his eyes.
He was driven backward—step by step—until his back hit the wall.
Before him: the humming, rotating saber, and a furious Inquisitor. He felt a surge of despair. He had underestimated the Inquisitor's power. The threat of death was real.
And then… clarity.
Amir's mind went cold. He focused—not on the weapon, but on her exposed neck.
Something unseen stirred around him.
"Grrk—!" Seventh Sister choked. A crushing sensation clamped around her throat, draining her strength. Instinctively, she tried to pull away—her grip on the saber weakening.
BLAM! BLAM!
Blaster shots rang out.
The sound broke her concentration. Energy bolts struck her shoulder. She lost control of the saber.
Amir didn't hesitate. He grabbed the hilt, switched it off, and kicked her hard in the gut—sending her flying and collapsing in a heap.
He turned to look at the trooper—Kayin, still holding his blaster.
"…It's you, right, A—ah, well, I hope it's you. Otherwise I'm screwed," Kayin said in his usual slow, dependable voice. The Inquisitor was still conscious—so he avoided saying Amir's name.
"You regret this?" Amir asked.
"Hell yeah, I regret it." Kayin picked up his helmet and reset his blaster to stun mode. He shot the Inquisitor again. "Go on. I'll take this TIE fighter and meet you later. I was supposed to get to fly it tomorrow, anyway."
"Still thinking about ships, even now—classic you," Amir grinned. He didn't say anything else. Two years of camaraderie had forged an unspoken bond.
He sprinted toward his ship, not forgetting to grab the fallen Sith double-bladed saber.
Soon, he reached the docking bay and spotted Rensys sitting in a corner under the watchful eye of a Rebel soldier, staring off into space.
Ahsoka returned from the other corridor.
"Looks like I'm just in time," she said with a smile—but the exhaustion on her face told of a hard-fought battle.
"You were the last one we were waiting for." Amir wanted to call her "kiddo," but he figured he'd get punched and kept quiet.
BEEP-BEEP! WHIRR— BD-4 unlocked the hatch, chirping at Amir.
"We should go!" Rebel technician Parks urged. The prison ship could take off at any second.
"Well then, until we meet again." Amir turned to Ahsoka.
"Want to join us?" she asked unexpectedly.
"If things ever fall apart for me, you'll be the first I call," Amir replied with a grin.
"Say something like that—at least take off the helmet!"
Amir glanced around—no security cams—then removed his helmet and smiled, stepping into the ship.
The massive prison ship suddenly streaked into hyperspace, vanishing into the stars. But the mission it carried was no longer whole.
Kayin sat in a TIE recon fighter, watching the prison ship disappear. His tense body finally relaxed.
There was no sorrow, no regret. Those feelings had flickered for a moment—right before he pulled the trigger on the Inquisitor—but he had buried them.
Silence all around. An empty ship. A starfield without end.
He pulled the lever.
The stars stretched and blurred as the TIE fighter jumped to hyperspace—its destination: the Outer Rim of the galaxy.
.
.
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