Chapter 220 — Zule Xiss POV
Zule had always believed she understood fear. She had felt it before—on training grounds, in sparring chambers, in the moments when her temper got the better of her and her masters reminded her just how far she still had to go. But those moments were controlled, measured. Fear there was a lesson. Something to overcome.
This… this was something else entirely.
The moment the creatures fell from the sky, something inside her twisted. Not just instinct. Not just danger.
Wrongness.
They were alive—but not alive. Moving—but not natural. The Force around them didn't flow the way it should. It stuttered, warped, like something had been forced into existence that had no right to be there.
And then they started firing.
Zule reacted on instinct, her lightsaber igniting with a sharp snap-hiss as she deflected the first volley of blaster bolts. But there were too many. Too fast. Every angle covered. It wasn't like fighting droids—it was like fighting something that thought, adapted, hunted.
Her breath hitched.
For the first time in a long time… she felt outmatched.
Then Dagon spoke.
Not loudly. Not with panic.
Just… certainty.
"Go."
That single word cut through the chaos sharper than any blade.
Zule turned toward him, anger flaring instantly. "What about—"
"I'll hold them."
There was no hesitation in his voice. No doubt.
And that made it worse.
"You can't—there's twenty of them—"
"Go."
Something in the way he said it… made her stop.
Not submission. Not obedience.
Understanding.
Glaive grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "We follow orders."
"I don't take orders from—"
"You do now," Glaive snapped. "Move!"
Zule gritted her teeth, rage boiling in her chest as she turned away. Every instinct screamed at her to stay, to fight, to prove she wasn't someone who ran from a battle.
But the Force… the Force was pulling her away.
Not out of fear.
Out of necessity.
So she ran.
---
The deeper they moved into the ruined colony, the worse it got.
The smell. The silence. The bodies.
Zule forced herself not to look too closely, but it was impossible not to see it—the Gungans, frozen in place, their expressions twisted in confusion, not pain. They hadn't even understood what was happening when they died.
"Chemical dispersal," Puck said, scanning the area with cold precision. "Contained. Targeted."
Zule clenched her fists. "They didn't stand a chance…"
"Not the objective," Puck replied. "This was bait."
Her head snapped toward him. "Bait?"
"For us."
That realization hit harder than anything else.
This wasn't random. This wasn't collateral.
This was planned.
For them.
For Dagon.
The ground trembled faintly in the distance as explosions echoed from where they had left him behind. Zule froze for a fraction of a second, her heart pounding.
He was still fighting.
Alone.
"Focus," Glaive growled. "Find the source."
Zule forced herself forward, pushing down the unease clawing at her chest. She reached out with the Force, scanning, searching—
There.
"Below us," she said. "Something underground."
Puck nodded immediately. "Commandos, breach."
Explosives were set. Charges detonated.
The ground gave way, revealing a hidden chamber filled with sealed canisters—rows upon rows of them, each marked with Separatist insignia.
Zule stared. "That's enough to wipe out a city…"
"Or several," Glaive said grimly.
"Destroy them," Puck ordered.
Zule ignited her saber again, stepping forward without hesitation this time. Rage fueled her movements as she slashed through the canisters, releasing controlled bursts of energy that destabilized their contents before they could disperse.
Each strike felt personal.
Each swing carried the weight of the dead Gungans above.
"Burn," she muttered under her breath.
The chamber erupted in contained detonations, the poison neutralized before it could spread.
"Done," Puck confirmed.
Zule exhaled sharply.
But the relief didn't come.
Because she could still feel him.
Dagon.
And what she felt… made her blood run cold.
---
They returned to the surface just in time to see it.
The storm.
Zule stopped dead in her tracks.
Dagon stood at the center of it all, surrounded by what remained of the creatures. But this wasn't a battle anymore.
It was something else.
Lightning coiled around him—not wild, not chaotic, but controlled. Shaped. It moved like living things, twisting around his arms, forming into dragon-like constructs that roared silently as they struck.
Each movement he made was precise. Final.
And terrifying.
Zule's breath caught.
"That's not…" she whispered.
"Jedi," Glaive finished, his voice low.
But it wasn't just the lightning.
It was the way he fought.
The speed. The efficiency. The sheer brutality of it.
He wasn't just defeating them.
He was erasing them.
For a moment… she felt it.
Fear.
Not of the creatures.
Of him.
And that terrified her more than anything else.
---
Then everything changed.
The moment the hidden threat revealed itself, the moment the Force shifted again, Zule barely had time to react before a blaster bolt came straight for her.
She froze.
Not because she couldn't move.
Because she didn't see it in time.
But Dagon did.
He moved faster than thought, catching the bolt mid-air with the Force. The energy crackled in his grip before he hurled it back, detonating the source.
"High canopy," he said instantly. "enemy bombers."
" THEY ARE TARGETING THE REMAINING CANNISTERS RUN, FIND COVER!"
Zule stumbled back, her heart racing.
He had seen it before she did.
He had reacted before she could even think.
And then—
The explosion.
It came out of nowhere.
A massive blast tore through the battlefield, throwing Glaive forward like a ragdoll. Zule felt the heat, the force of it, the sheer destructive power—
—and then something hit her.
Not the explosion.
Him.
Dagon moved between her and the blast without hesitation, his body becoming a shield. The Force flared around him, but it wasn't enough to fully stop it.
The impact slammed into him.
Hard.
Zule screamed, the sound torn from her throat as she felt the force of it ripple through him—and into her. But he held. He didn't move. He didn't fall.
He endured.
When the smoke cleared, he was still standing.
But barely.
"Why…" Zule whispered, staring at him. "Why would you—"
"Focus," he said, his voice strained but steady.
Even now.
Even like this.
He was thinking about the mission.
Not himself.
Not the pain.
The mission.
Something inside her shifted.
---
The battle was over.
The creatures were gone.
The Nightsister had fled.
But Zule couldn't take her eyes off him.
Half his armor was gone, burned away by the explosion. The exposed sections of his body were scorched, the damage severe enough that even she—no stranger to injury—felt her stomach twist.
And yet… he was still standing.
"Sir," Puck said as he approached, his tone urgent for the first time. "You need medical attention. Now."
Dagon didn't respond immediately.
His gaze lingered on the battlefield for a moment longer, as if confirming it was truly over.
Then, finally, he nodded.
Puck moved quickly, supporting him as his strength began to give out. For a moment, Zule thought he might collapse entirely—but he didn't.
Not until they reached the shuttle.
Zule followed in silence, her thoughts racing, emotions clashing violently inside her.
Fear.
Rage.
Confusion.
And something else.
Something she didn't want to name.
As they loaded him onto the shuttle, she saw it clearly for the first time.
The damage.
Half his body burned.
Not surface wounds.
Deep.
Serious.
The kind that would kill most people.
"Bacta," Puck ordered immediately. "Full immersion."
The commandos moved with precision, preparing the tank as the shuttle lifted off.
Zule stood there, frozen.
Watching.
Processing.
He had faced twenty monsters alone.
He had wielded power she didn't fully understand.
He had terrified her.
And yet…
When it mattered…
He had protected her.
Without hesitation.
Without question.
Her fists clenched.
"Idiot…" she muttered, her voice trembling slightly.
But there was no anger in it anymore.
Only something far more dangerous.
Respect.
Hope.
And the realization that whatever Dagon Marek truly was…
He wasn't just a weapon.
He was something else.
Something she didn't understand yet.
But for the first time since the battle began…
Zule wasn't afraid of him anymore.
She was afraid for him.