Charting a Course
After all of the separatist leader's boasting, it was almost amusing to see how quickly he and his men went down. Captain Vacy Fiorst noticed that Corso Riggs, the young man who'd tagged along with her, fought particularly well, practically ignoring wounds that should've dropped him. It wasn't long before the last one left alive tossed his weapon aside and dropped to his knees.
His name was Morant, and he begged them to spare him, but before giving them a chance to respond, he began babbling everything he knew. Apparently Skavak made quite a habit of double-crossing those who worked with him; the rat had taken some old junk heap of a droid and left the separatists to deal with Vacy. Privately, she thought they deserved what they got, but she kept quiet as long as the information kept coming.
And then Morant mentioned Syreena's connection to Skavak, and Vacy fumed as all the details clicked into place. "Great," she said tightly. "Someone else I've gotta kill."
Morant let out a whimper at that. "Please, let me go," he pleaded. "I have a family back on the mainland. Please!"
Corso walked over to the captive and stared at him for a moment before holding his blaster to the man's head. "Separatist scum killed my family," he said, voice thick with hate, "and I promised myself I'd bury every last one of you."
"I—I've only been here a few months!" gasped Morant. "I didn't kill anyone's family! I just wanted to make a difference – do something honorable!"
Corso's finger tightened on the trigger of his blaster. "Then now you'll have the honor of dying for your cause," he spit out.
"Hey! Hold on a second," Vacy interjected. Both men looked at her as she walked toward them, Morant with hope, Corso in frustration. She put a hand on Corso's shoulder, watching his expression carefully. "Are you sure about this?"
He didn't pause for a second before answering. "Right down to my gut, Captain. Every one of these motherless scum deserves death."
She sighed, because she recognized the darkness she saw echoing in his gaze. "And your family? Is this what they would've wanted to see from you?"
"They didn't understand." The pain in Corso's voice was ragged and raw. "That's what got them killed. They were farmers, not soldiers, and the separatists murdered 'em anyway."
Vacy took a careful breath. "Think very carefully," she said. "Who would you rather act like – your father, or the separatist who shot an unarmed man?"
Corso scowled at her, but this time he hesitated. Indecision played over his features, and tension seemed to evaporate from him.
Seeing this, Morant made a half-scramble backward. "Please, I swear to you I'll never serve a man like Dereg again. I'll just go home and take care of my family."
The seconds seemed to stretch into hours until Corso lowered his blaster with a muttered curse. "Get out of here before I change my mind!" Without another word, Morant dashed away, and Corso watched him go with a scowl. He turned on Vacy a moment later, fuming. "That really wasn't fair, Captain."
"I know. Devious and underhanded is kind of my specialty." She sighed, in resignation as much as relief. It stung a bit to have the kid mad at her, but she couldn't fault him for it. "But I'm not sorry. If I had the choice again, I'd do the same thing."
He was pacing, clearly angry, but this time it didn't carry the bitterness it had before. "Why'd you have to go and be merciful to him?"
She lifted her shoulders. "Didn't do it for him."
Corso looked at her in confusion. "It's just – I mean – I just don't understand."
"I hope you never do." With a sad smile, the shipless captain turned toward the door, and they began the long trek back to Fort Garnik.