Chapter Text
Marrok’s hand settles against the cool, smooth ground, felt faintly through their glove. They could sense the echo of the force imprinted deep into the stone, marking a clear trail straight to his prey.
Jedi.
Traitors who had long abandoned their ways.
Although he wasn't entirely fooled by that notion.
It was clear something deeper had happened to the Jedi order, something else had caused the clones to turn on their masters and shoot. But Marrok didn't particularly care enough to look into it. So long as it gave them an excuse to hunt, they simply couldn't be bothered.
He shrugs off his thoughts, using the force to boost himself into a crouched run, staying close to the ground.
The planet the two Jedi hid on was rocky, its terrain harsh and its cover few, save for yawning crevices in the surface, too thin to travel through, but perfect for falling and becoming trapped in.
In theory, a horrible place to hide. In practice, a great place to spot your pursuers coming for you from fifty kliks away.
His force-sense alerts him before his hearing does; the Jedi was right ahead.
Marrok sends a pulse of energy into the ground to get an idea of what was around him before igniting their blade, leaping into the air and swinging.
The Jedi's blade meets his with a clash, and he quickly tunes into his opponent's force-signature, picking up as much information as he could before he's pushed away, armored boots skidding on the ground as he reaches down to steady himself, igniting the other half of his lightsaber.
Twi'lek, mature female. Utilizing third form.
They file the information away in their mind, dashing in to once again continue the fight, adjusting their combat accordingly, finding themself easily matched.
They push the Jedi back, little by little, gaining ground with each calculated stroke and forcing her into the defensive.
He parries a desperate strike, knocking the Jedi's defense aside and raising his blade for the finishing blow.
And then he hears the distinctive sound of a lightsaber igniting behind him.
He twists around, smacking the incoming lightsaber blade away and scrambling back, trying to get his bearings again.
They hadn't known there were two Jedi present. They hadn't been told about this. They hadn't been ready for this, and they weren't prepared to defend against two, let alone fight-
A force push slams into his chest, sending him into the air with a wet crunch, crushing the metal chest plate protecting them- and most likely a few of their ribs as well.
Another consequence of this shove was that he was now disoriented, airborne, and about to fall right into one of the crevices and presumably die.
Something unseen catches him before he falls, tossing him roughly across the crevice and away from the battle. He skids over the ground, managing to push himself up to sitting with a painful cough. He could still hear lightsaber combat nearby.
He sends another pulse through the ground, trying to make sense of where he had landed and who had continued the fight.
The second Jedi was a nautalid, also female. She was defending while the Twi'lek attacked, clearly both very used to this setup. As for who the two were fighting-
The force-signature was almost as familiar as Marrok's own, a deep wellspring of energy, a beacon of reliable safety and calm, calm in a chaotic sea of darkness and clashing frequencies and unknowable depths-
One of his coworkers.
The Eleventh Brother.
Just one of his coworkers.
“No-” the nautalid shouts as her defense is broken, and he can sense the Twi'lek Jedi throw herself in front, right into the Eleventh’s blade in a hopeless attempt to distract him from her- partner?- coworker.
“Quick- run-” she chokes out, before the Eleventh tears the blade to the side, nearly ripping her in half.
“Elsie!” The nautalid screams, catching the Twi'lek in her arms and holding her close to her chest.
Marrok could hear her sobs clearly, but far worse than that, they could feel her grief ricocheting out through the surrounding force, and he could feel the life of the Twi'lek fade away into nothing, and he could feel the grief tearing at his mind, tearing at his soul, the madness, the fury, the unjustness of it all-
And then the Eleventh's blade came down, and the Jedi were no more.
Marrok coughs again, struggling to draw breath against the crushing weight of the collapsed chest plate.
The Eleventh notices something's wrong before Marrok can draw enough breath to call out, and rushes over.
He pushes Marrok to the ground, straddling him, long claws scrabbling at their chest plate in an effort to remove it, and Marrok is absolutely blaming the spike in their heart rate on oxygen deprivation. There was no discernible reason otherwise
The Eleventh finally removes Marrok's crushed chest plate, setting it aside and offering them at least some relief, although the breath is annoyingly painful. He places his palm against the thin mesh over Marrok's chest, and Marrok can feel a thread of energy weaving its way into his body, righting the broken bones and patching the injured lung. It was a temporary fix, but a fix nonetheless.
The Eleventh had stabbed his lightsaber into the ground beside Marrok, despite the fact he'd been lectured an uncountable amount of times on just why he shouldn't do that. But now certainly wasn't the time for that.
Scratch that. Now was the perfect time.
“That. Turn it off. And put it away.” Marrok huffs, failing to shove the Eleventh off and jabbing a finger at the lightsaber. “Properly.”
They sit up as the Eleventh shuffles awkwardly off them. The Eleventh was awkward in most things he did, excluding lurking in shadows and scaring the living force out of new Storm Trooper recruits.
“The Jedi?” Marrok wheezes, though the question wasn't really needed. They knew the Eleventh had completed his mission perfectly. He always did.
“Yes.” the Eleventh replies flatly, retrieving his lightsaber and turning it off, placing it on his back.
“Both?”
“Yes.”
Marrok's own lightsaber lay extinguished nearby, the Eleventh wandering over to retrieve it.
“Why did you come?” Marrok asks, taking the light saber back.
“Lord Vader detected a second Jedi.” The Eleventh states flatly.
“I had it handled.” Marrok protests grudgingly, eliciting a toneless “Hah.” From the Eleventh.
The Eleventh supports him on an arm, leading Marrok.
It was time to go back to the ship.
Time to report to Lord Vader.