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“Are you sure about this, Wolffe?” The Shadow questioned, an uncertain look in her eye as she took in the healing Commander before her. His eye was still bandaged while the new cybernetic replacement took its time to settle in. Above the bandages, the stitched slash mark was beginning to scar. The skin was still angry and aggravated from the contact of the lightsaber, rippled and red as it pulled at his wound. As much as she’d never admit it to him, right now Wolffe looked a mess. There’s no way he should be out of the Medbay in his condition.
Wolffe clocked her look of pity and his face turned sour. “Look, I need to prove to those Long Necks that I’m not expendable… that I’m not weak.” His tone was pure acid as he spoke of the Kaminoans, of how they tried to take him away. His body was rigid, determined. With a look that left no room for argument he said, “I know what I’m signing up for here. So I suggest we get started.”
Maria nodded in understanding. With a deep breath, her eyes softly slid shut and she began to clear her mind. Through the force, she knocked off the invisible weights that held her down, that kept her grounded and at peace. As they fell away piece by piece, she could feel her emotions start up like a whirlwind, anger and a thirst for power at the forefront.
When she opened her eyes again, they sparkled with a yellow tint. She met Wolffe’s gaze and saw as he gulped slightly at her changed demeanour. Gone was the composed Shadow Jedi and in her place was something more feral. A being whose emotions could nurture powers beyond his comprehension. With a dark smirk, she readied her lightsaber. The blade extended in a bright orange flare, casting a dull hue across her pale skin. “Are you still certain with your choice, Commander?”