Star Wars: Trapped in Trepidation

As Jent followed Werrin's trail, the rain of ash and cinder swelled, blinding and burning, whilst erasing the subtle clues that he would need to follow that foolish escapee; Werrin. Jent hurried, the slowly vanishing tracks and Werrin's self-imposed precarious situation, spurring him on; hastening his movements through the heaps.

Pessimistic thoughts clouded Jent's mind, and his fret quickly became fury. "That idiotic cretinous imbecile of a lame-brained knuckleheaded twit!" he seethed.

The trail ahead was growing cold; blanketed by ash and Jent was struggling to follow what little signs were left. Eventually, there was nothing left to follow; the ash storm having covered everything in a fine layer of grey. "F*ck, f*ck, f*ck!" Jent yelled, kicking up a plume of soil and soot in a fit of rage.

Jent kicked away at the earth till he was out of breath, covering himself in ash and denting his newly reforged legs as he did so. Having vented, Jent's thoughts became clear. There was nothing left to guide him so he would just have to pick a direction and run hoping for the best.

"Here goes nothing," he said, vaguely running in the direction that the tracks were headed before he had lost them.

The storm grew denser still and Jent could now barely see ten feet out. He flicked on his mask's night vision function and his eyes lit up with an orange glow, slightly improving his visibility. A few minutes passed, silent, nothing but Jent and his thoughts hemmed in by the ash-blizzard.

But silence is a lie easily unveiled and it was broken by the sounds of a wind-like whistling whine.

At first, it was like a gust, blowing through the wooden-boards of an abandoned house; eerie, but then the sound became deeper, lower in pitch. It seemed to be getting closer and it wasn't long before Jent could hear it distinctly, it was a wail; a voice steeped in dread and panic and one Jent recognised. Werrins'.

Jent ran towards the source, trepidation eating at his subconscious, what had put that reckless and foolhardy boy into such a state that he was screeching and wailing like a newborn babe?

Werrin was en route to Jent in the first place, and with Jent sprinting towards the sounds of him yowling, the two converged.

Werrin was absolutely bolting it, his silhouette a barely visible streak in the storm, and seeing the outline of another Junker he howled, "Ruuunnnn!" It wasn't long before Jent saw the shadow of what chased Werrin.

It was huge, especially so compared to a Junker, its eight mechanical pincers chittered, and conjoining with a bulbous body, it formed a spider-like frame of twisted scrap metal. With each step, its metal body screeched out a dreadful din of noise, as if unwilling, like nails dragged across a chalkboard. Atop, melded into the scrap, was the upper body of a man and crowned with bony protrusions, he screamed, bawled, and chortled, hysterical in his madness.

Looking at the fiend, fear, rage, guilt and despair hit Jent like a tidal wave, not only from his own mind but external; as if he was bearing the brunt of all the misery in the world. Jent ran, it was all he could do, all he could bring himself to do at that moment, with both his real and metaphysical fear forcing him to flee.

"Arggggg!" a guttural howl came out of Jent's lips.

Jent moved fast, his new mechanical limbs helping him catch up to Werrin. "What the f*ck is that!" Jent yelled, running side by side with Werrin.

"I don't fu*king know," Werrin gasped out, "I only came to scout it out I swear," he inhaled again deeply, "but it found me..."

"Whatever, just run!" Jent shouted.

The pair ran in tandem, hoping to escape, but the creature behind seemed to be neither gaining nor losing ground. A shrieking cackle emitted from its lips.

"It's toying with us," Jent shouted, "It could have easily caught up to us by now."

"F*ck, we're dead then," Werrin replied.

"We have to split... At least one of us will live that way," Jent huffed and it took a second for Werrin to reply "Fine... on three. One, two, three," he called out, falling a step behind with each count.

On the mark of three, Werrin skidded to a stop, churning up a cloud of ash. He stood still, "sorry master, I won't have you dying for my mistakes," Werrin said to himself solemnly before shouting, "master, survive and... Avenge me!" He waited, wanting to stall the mechanical monster long enough for Jent to escape.

The half-man, half-arachnid approached, slowly, sizing up the would-be martyr and prey.

"Thunk!" a Mandalorian blade, flying through the air; having been thrown, collided with the monster's body slicing off a leg. "Avenge what! Come here you two-bit demon!" Jent taunted.