"Lon" she breathed.
"I've come to rescue you."
She peered into his eyes. They looked identical, down to the shade of brown. "Get out of my head," she growled.
He pulled her closer. "All you have to do is close your eyes." He let her go and started to circle her again. "You know you won't kill me, even if it does mean your own life."
"You'd be right if you were Lon."
"You like to think that I'm not him, wouldn't you? But as long as your eyes are open, you will see me there."
She stopped following him, allowing him to get behind her. She slowly let her eyes close, and tried something she had never attempted before. She shut out everything around her, and reached out with her mind. The glow of the sunlight hitting her lids faded to black, and the noise of the crowd quickly silenced. Suddenly, she could see in a 360 degree circle. The creature was behind her, this time, in its true reptilian form. It stalked toward her, ready to strike.
All thoughts ceased. Psylocke's hands flipped both sai into the offensive position, then clasped the hilts tightly. Her body was moving, for the first time, by way of the Force. She jumped up and backward, reaching a height she never had before from a standing back layout. She could see the creature below her, then in front of her as she landed behind him. The creature turned to face her, and she thrust her entire body forward, impaling the reptile on the longest prong of one of the sai.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. Lon's face was contorted with shock and rage, and his hands were gripping the prong. For a brief moment, she felt his flesh touch her fingers. She released the sai and stepped back, the same hand unconsciously covering her own wound.
Lon fell back into the bloodstained sand. Its skin rippled like disturbed water, and returned to its own scaly texture. Then, it was completely still. Psylocke straightened herself, and breathed a sigh of relief. She could hear the crowds cheers around her, but she did not acknowledge her fans this time. She turned back toward the door of the arena, and walked on with a stoic expression on her face. With each step, the pain in her abdomen increased, and her strength ebbed away. Almost her entire left arm was coated with her own blood from the slash on her tricep.
She collapsed onto the sand midstride. The sounds of the audience's gasps were inaudible to the roar of her own pumping blood in her ears. She felt hands touching her, turning her over.
Focus was difficult to keep. She peered up quietly at the medics above her as they started to dress her wounds. She smiled lightly to herself before she closed her eyes and decided to let the medics do their work.
**DISCLAIMER: I did not write Metieh or Lon as my own characters. I wrote about a shapshifter who took on thier looks. Admiral Metieh belongs to Seth Bonder, and Lon Solo to Armand Banooni.**
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