THE FORCE WITHIN
© December 2017 Written by David Wicker
Please do not reprint without permission
CHAPTER 27 - "Do You Believe In Angels"
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This entry is Rated: TEEN
Vader chuckled to himself.
He casually raised his arm and made a shooing movement with it. "Smite, I don't have time for jokes. Now do you have something important to say or not ?"
But Smite if anything was steeling his reflexes. Suddenly he stood sideways his legs bent in perfection and whirled his staff in front of him so fast papers on a desk behind Vader blew off the edge.
If Vader could've shown fear behind his mask, he would've. Smite smiled tersely to himself with the full knowledge that he truly was the best warrior in the galaxy. He didn't need a lightsaber to give him the edge. He =WAS= the edge.
Vader now saw this was not a joke and that Smite truly was here to assassinate him, in cold blood, if only to keep his identity a secret. So he deftly whipped his right hand to his side to pull out his saber, only to have Smite expertly smack him on his gloved wrist with the metallic staff, dislocating one of Vader's fingers in the process.
Vader seeing there was no way to defend himself by being so close to him so he called upon the dark side of the Force to do a backwards aerial somersault, retrieving his lightsaber in the movement.
His actions took him to the top of the table where he now towered over Smite. Vader's glowing blood red blade wavered slightly cutting neatly through the air and making its telltale deep reverberating sound.
Vader spoke and his voice was deep and chilling to say the least. "Smite, withdraw now and I will forget what you did. Continue, and I will kill you just as certainly as I took the life of Obi-Wan. This is your only warning."
But Smite was not frightened in the least. Not one little bit. He expertly swung his staff at Vader's feet causing him to fall backwards. It was all Vader could do to keep the laser blade away from his person as he ungraciously fell into a heap behind the table.
But he was up in an instant and at once clashed his blade against Smite's own steely staff.
Yet to Vader's dismay the blade did not cut through it like hot butter as it should for any metal.
Smite allowed Vader a moment of reflection. Finally Vader spoke incredulously, "Smite, what sorcery is this !? You are wielding no ordinary staff ! Any lightsaber should cut right through it !"
"That would make it easier for you, wouldn't it." Smite agreed. "But no, this staff is made out of pure Carbon Neutronium. Not even the heat of an exploding star could mar its surface."
Vader stepped back, now having something to be surprised about. "But - that's impossible. To build something like that, to get the alloy just perfect would take - "
"Centuries ? Yes. It did. Vader. I'm far older than I look. Perhaps you've heard of angels ?"
Vader knew at once he was not referring to the Biblical kind but a type of super warrior, a legend from the past before the Empire was founded. there were only bits and pieces of any real evidence of their existence today. The beings were called respectively, "Angels," and for the most part they were good, helping the oppressed and destroying evil.
Vader scoffed, "You are no angel !"
Smite smiled slightly and his visage was terrible to behold in the grim red light of Vader's saber. "No, I'm not. Not anymore. But I was. That is until I left the league. Stupid fools only wanted to do good and for zero compensation. As an angel, I wanted to see what kind of profit I could make with my skills. I wanted to live comfortably on that profit. I went my own way !"
He continued, "As you know from legends, no angel ever learns their fighting skills. They are born with it, straight from the very core of the Force itself. Just as humans are born with instinct today for their survival."
Vader pressed, "You will not survive this."
Smite turned his head at an odd angle, "No ? Well if I am to be removed from life's coils today, I will see that that you are strangled and crushed by them additionally. Enough talk !" At which point Smite pressed his attack.
Vader grunted and fought off Smite's attacks with his lightsaber. But it soon became apparent to him that Smite had the upper hand. With Smite's staff easily passing through Vader's sword, Vader saw that he had no defense whatsoever against Smite.
So Vader stepped back and relied on what the blade could cut. Sections of the room around him, which Vader flung at Smite through raw telekinesis with the dark side of the Force at his beckon.
But Smite steely smashed his staff straight through all obstacles that Vader pushed in on him.
Smite found an opening and attacked, breaking the very helmet off of Vader to reveal the misshapen and withered form beneath. If anything, Smite laughed at how grotesque the visage was.
Bits of the room where they fought now had large sharp angles cut out from Vader's lightsaber in his inability to fend off the attack. Smite pushed forward his position, punching Vader in his chest with the staff, breaking several of his ribs in the process.
Vader fell to the floor, his light saber clattering to the side. He gasped and wheezed almost as bad as if he was still wearing the mask and fought to control the growing fear in himself. And then he realized. Smite was human, or human enough. There was no way he could see behind himself. Vader moved a few fingers and a sharp piece of the wall quickly jumped out to skewer Smite from behind.
But Smite almost having a 6th sense twirled to leap out and smash it to the ground with his staff. That was all Vader needed, with Smite's head turned and distracted, he then drove a sharper piece of the cut wall straight through his chest from the front - where he was not looking.
Smite was skewered completely, punctured through his lungs by the very sharp triangular edifice. Smite turned to face Vader, blood in his mouth and laughed, spraying red on his confident bleached face.
And then he laughed even louder, but still he would not drop his staff. Instead he forced himself to step forward to drive the razor-sharp triangle even deeper through him, cutting vital organs in the process.
Finally he spoke in a ragged whisper. "I see you have released me. All this time I believed I was immortal, unable to die, and you have finally done me a great service. Thank you."
Vader kept his distance, thinking he may have one last trick up his sleeve, but no. Smite dropped his metal staff which rung loudly on the ground in a deep pinging noise and his head slumped forward.
Smite was truly dead ...
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