Vancil’s hand gripped tightly around that of his mother’s, shrinking further into himself as he did so. The crowds bustled around him, jostling him to and fro, his mother’s reassuring grip being all that stopped him from being taken away by the unending tide of people.
His vision was a mess of colours and textures, colours and textures that he had never seen before, colours and textures that he was now utterly terrified of. Yet, past the crowds of people towering over him, past the experienced and almost precise movements of the many different species around him, he could see it. A sprawling and breathtaking view of Coruscant, a planet he had only heard of in the legends of his hometown.
And, surprisingly, almost all of the legends were true. He had expected some the more outlandish claims like towers large enough to hold a mythical Krayt Dragon, or so many different species you wouldn’t be able to count them all to be utterly false. How wrong he was. Of course, that only ended up making the whole experience even more gut wrenching and terrifying.
He was only vaguely aware of the direction they were going, choosing to instead hide in his mother’s shadow as much as he could while he tried his best to think back to the grassy fields of his home, hidden under grey clouds. While there was a part of him that hated himself for such behaviour, his fear took complete precedence.
Thankfully however, the crowds eventually filtered out as they approached a truly monolithic structure, one so large he wasn’t sure where it started and where it ended. His little brown eyes filled with wonder and awe as he gazed upon it. An eager grin came upon his face as well, once he recognised the building from the infographics they had been given on the flight to Coruscant. The Jedi Temple. Excitedly, he looked up at his mother, eager to see her own reaction and expecting it to be at least somewhat similar to his.
Except that wasn’t what he saw. Rather, her face was tightly knit into a look of worry and anger, her gaze locked onto the large entranceway into the superstructure. Vancil looked between the building and his mother, trying to find the link as to why she felt like this. He just couldn’t see any reason for her negative behaviour.
After all, they were here to visit his sister.
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Pure rage filtered off of Vancil in droves, his armoured fists clenched tightly as he glared bloody murder at every Jedi within his range of view, present or not. Red lightning jumped between both of his fists, noticed by neither he nor the Jedi. Both had far more pressing concerns right now.
Those Jedi that were present had frozen entirely, and those who weren’t had also, having realised something was wrong even with their holographic view of the situation. He couldn’t blame them for such a reaction of course. After all, chances were he was an absolute tsunami of dark side energy right now. It certainly felt like it to Vancil.
He had never felt more powerful in his life. It was…intoxicating. Despite all the rage, and anger, he felt towards these Jedi right now however, his death grip on the force provided a wealth of comfort to stop him from attacking right there and then.
His furious gaze whipped to the Kel Dor who flinched and instantly as his hand snapped to grip his lightsaber. That singular action was the somewhat sober reminder of the situation Vancil was in, and the only reason he didn’t immediately start throwing punches. Thankfully, he had something else to throw.
“You fucking pieces of steaming diabetic bantha shit.” He said, his voice a low and threatening growl.
No Jedi responded, present or not. Vancil did not know the reason, nor did he care to find out. Because he wasn’t done.
“You motherfucking bastards. You disgusting spawn of prostitutes think you can ask me to join your order of fucking weird-ass space monks?” He shouted.
Again, no response.
“You insensitive, emotionless pricks! I have just lost everything I fucking cared and loved and you try to fucking recruit me!? You Jedi are supposed to be the pinnacle of understanding and empathy! You’re supposed to be the FUCKING GOOD GUYS!”
He took a step forward, caused the arcs of lightning to grow significantly, drawing the attention of the Jedi. Vancil had a faint idea of something going on in his hands, but decided it wasn’t worth enough attention.
“DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND!?!? YOU PEOPLE ARE A FUCKING DISGRACE TO WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO STAND FOR!! AND YOU’RE THE GOD DAMNED LEADERS OF YOUR LITTLE DYSFUNCTIONAL CULT!”
Vancil was yelling now, and all of the Jedi physically present except for the little goblin had drawn and ignited their lightsabers, each dropping into a combat stance. He was too into it now however. If he was going to get cut down, he would give them a proper piece of his mind before it happened.
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“YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW BAD MY SITUATION IS!?!? THE ONLY THING THAT I CARE ABOUT THAT IS STILL FUCKING ALIVE IS A STUPID FUCKING JEDI!!”
He fixed his gaze squarely on the goblin called Yoda, hoping that in his last moments he would at least manage to antagonise the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order.
“DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND YOU OVERGROWN FUCKING PIECE OF MONGREL SNOT!?!?”
He finally stopped his tirade, his gaze still on the Grandmaster. That was it. That was the best he could come up with. As far as send offs go it wasn’t really the best. He supposed it could be considered somewhat poetic. One of the last Sith in the galaxy, and his last words were a series of insults and slurs against the Jedi.
Unfortunately for Vancil, the second he stopped his hateful rant, an inner conflict immediately started up. Because, while there was no doubt about how much he wanted to throttle every single one of these Jedi, his outburst of raw emotion had freed something else. He was fucking distressed as all hell. While he was distressed when he first discovered the nature of his situation, he had managed to at least keep that under control by focusing on something to do, that being access the archives to get a clearer picture.
Now though? That any prospect of fulfilling that objective was thoroughly destroyed? There was no excuse he could make up. Vancil’s shoulders slumped slightly as these thoughts crashed down on him, the eyes behind his mask glazing over.
“This shit fucking sucks.” He muttered to himself as he looked down to his feet, the red lightning dying down.
The room returned back to its previous silence, and the tension in the air was palpable, with only the hum of lightsabers of the Jedi and shaky breath of Vancil to break it. Vancil shut his eyes as he prepared to be cut down. Even if he reached his lightsaber and the Jedi had somehow fell of considerably during whatever amount of time had passed, he was surrounded by them. So even if he managed to somehow kill all of the Jedi Masters in this room, the only way out was either a drop out the window or the elevator.
Vancil’s eyes closed as he prepared for one the Jedi to inevitably take advantage of his clearly melancholic state and cut him down. Instead, what he heard was the light and approaching sound of wood upon the floor. Confused, Vancil opened his eyes and looked up to see Yoda approaching him at a truly agonising speed.
This understandably left the Sith speechless, as Yoda didn’t have his lightsaber out, nor did he appear to be in any way shape or form cautious. Vancil’s gaze locked onto the approaching Grandmaster, who stopped only a few steps from him. Yoda looked up at Vancil, his eyes as impossible to read as his face was aged and wrinkled.
“Understand, I do.” He said before bowing his head slightly in what surprisingly seemed like remorse, “Ask for forgiveness, I must ask.”
“…I don’t give a shit for any apology you want to say.” Vancil managed after a few seconds of stunned silence, his rage and indignation returning slightly.
This was good. If they kept talking to him, he had a continuous way to create excuses to not fall into a deep depression.
“Hmmm, crass, your language has been. But understandable, its use was.” Yoda responded in a frankly weird way of speaking, “Correct you were, in our failure to empathise.”
Vancil’s brow furrowed beneath his mask, unsure as to how he should respond to an admission like that, “…Man, this really is a different galaxy from my one if a Jedi is admitting a Sith is right.”
Yoda hummed lightly…or was it a chuckle? Either way it was some sort of noise. Glancing around, Vancil found similar looks of shock and confusion upon everybody else present. Many looked like they were on the verge of speaking or butting in, but they still remained silent with their lightsabers drawn, either out of respect for whatever their Grandmaster’s intentions were or shock at just what was happening.
“Indeed, far different, this one must feel to you. Failed to recognise that, we did.”
Vancil’s subconsciously puffed his chest out in pride at Yoda’s admittance before he spoke, “Yeah, you bet you did. I just want to read what happened to my home. I don’t care if you assign your whole council to guard me or feed me false information. I’ll take what I can get.”
Vancil’s eyes then narrowed hatefully, not that they could see it with his mask, “One thing that I will never do however, is join you Jedi in any possible way. I will do anything in my power to never be on the side of the Jedi Order, you can count on that.”
Yoda’s expression tightened at that before he spoke again, “Hmmm, unfortunate, that is. Anything that can help us find Darth Sidious, we need.”
Vancil waved a hand dismissively, “I couldn’t give two shits about whatever the hell is happening with the Sith of this Galaxy. That’s between you and them.”
Yoda sighed dejectedly but still nodded as he turned around and began walking back to his cushioned throne, “Indeed. Include you in this, we should not. Access to the Archives, you may have. However, wait until after the Council has spoken to Padawan Kandria, before doing so.”
Every eye in the room, whether it was behind a mask, goggle, or holographic, was glued on the retreating Grandmaster’s back, every Jedi wide-eyed. The Kel Dor was the first to turn off his lightsaber and take a seat, his body language betraying nothing. Master Windu however, seemed to be an entirely different story, and his face clearly betrayed his vehement objections to what had just happened. In fact it looked like he would object at any moment.
Deciding to take the win while he could Vancil quickly spun around and speed walked back to the elevator where the Jedi called Drallig was still standing, his expression as shocked as the rest of the Masters. Upon seeing Vancil’s approach however, he snapped back into reality, and gestured mutely to the open elevator while keeping his gaze on the Grandmaster.
Vancil hurriedly stepped in and was quickly followed by Drallig who pressed a button, causing the elevator doors to close.
Vancil smacked his lips, “Well shit, I can’t believe that actually worked.”