Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Shadow Part Four [SWJ:FO/SI]
Trilla wasn't pleased. "We have a perimeter breach on Zeffo, scout droids found our mark on planet."
"Zeffo? Wouldn't that mean...the Tombs?" Masana asked, cocking her head to the side. Then, she felt her sister's turmoil and grimaced. "We are working together on this. The Emperor will not punish either of us-"
"He is busy on Ryloth," Trilla mumbled, "If he is angered there, then...we have time to set things right on our end, please him, and hopefully pacify him," she added.
They left Hyperspace near the planet, the ship landing on the Imperial base's main hangar bay. The Purge Troopers were disciplined, and marched out to stand at attention of the two Inquisitors who disembarked last.
The base commander met them there, a couple of AT-STs standing at the ready with a full complement of Stormtroopers behind the walkers. Some even carried missile launchers.
"Lady Inquisitors," the man saluted them. "Our forces are at your disposal. We have already doubled security around critical points-"
"Good. We have reason to believe the Jedi is headed for the Tombs. Assuming he makes his way inside one, we shall reserve a welcoming party for him once he comes out," Trilla's voice was modulated through her mask to appear less human, and slightly more robotic for psychological effects.
"We shall have speeders prepared at once," the base commander said.
"Good man!" Masala chuckled.
"He arrived on a ship, a Stinger XL," Trilla pointed out. "Have the planet docks scanned for those."
"That might take a while," the commander regretfully muttered, "That's a luxury yacht, and there are dozens of those spread across Zeffo...with as many annoying upstanding citizens as there are stars in the sky."
"Poetic, but meaningless," Trilla said curtly. "They will stand aside, or they will be imprisoned. That is the Emperor's will, commander."
The man stiffened and stood straighter, "If the Emperor wills it, the Emperor shall have it be done."
Trilla nodded once, firmly.
And firmer still, she quashed down the fleeting fear of failure from her mind.
Fear and Hatred shall not rule you, but shall be a weapon.
You are the one who wields it, and a blade is just a blade without a willing hand.
If you allow for the blood splatters to blind you, then you shall commit mistakes.
But mistakes are growing moments, from those we learn not to commit such things again.
Thus, learn. Thus, grow.
But always remember, Trilla, that some mistakes...
...some mistakes you can't fix.
---
Cal wondered why the Zeffo went through all the effort of locking their tombs in such ways that only a Force user could pass through them, as much as why there were locking mechanisms that required giant rolling boulders to push down on pressure plates.
He deftly avoided the latest large brass sphere filled with some kind of energy signature, and watched as it shattered a nearby wall. He winced at the noise. Thankfully there was no one in the Tomb with him. The Stormtroopers guarded the outer perimeter, but apparently they weren't allowed inside.
It became clear who could access it by the sight of the shattered and broken constructs that only a lightsaber could have reduced in such a sorrowful state, and Cal made a mental note never to end up on the receiving end of whoever had done such a thing.
BD-1 beeped as he scanned one of the fallen ancient robots. "Yeah, I get it BD," Cal muttered. "That's like an avoid-at-all-costs scenario."
There was a certain sense of unease as he finally crossed into the proper tomb area, his hand having touched a fractured wall, his memories of his training with his master resurfacing. He witnessed the giant sarcophagus of the Zeffo sage resting beneath thick glass. They were large creatures; easily twice or even thrice as tall as him.
Or perhaps it was just the statues and the Sarcophagus' size playing tricks on him.
The Tomb Guardian didn't take kindly to his forceful entry however, and this one hadn't been destroyed by whatever lightsaber-wielding explorer had come before him. Thus it was up to him.
He watched the slow, lumbering machine near, its pulsing core twirling quickly. A beam of energy left its center, and he hastily brought his lightsaber up to deflect part of it, wincing as he felt the heat pass over him. That thing would kill if it got a good hit on him, that much was definitely unquestionable.
He ran closer, his lightsaber swinging against the creature's midriff, only for it to stare down at him. It moved one of its massive hands and Cal avoided it by a hair's breadth, before spinning to swing down on the limb.
The wrist section was the weakest point, as the offending limb fell on the ground with a cluttering sound. A knee strike took him by surprise, making him gasp as he fell backwards on the ground, clutching his stomach.
Hopefully it hadn't broken any of his ribs. BD-1 beeped worryingly from his back, "Not yet," he hissed. "I can still-"
The core of the statue began to pulse once more.
And this time, with a yell, Cal's hand shot forth. The Force answered his call, slamming through the core and pushing it out. The guardian seemingly powered down, though the force-field holding the core contained was slowly pushing the thing back into its proper socket.
Cal willed the pain away as he rushed forward, jumping over the guardian and then slicing the core in half, a small explosion following as the ancient droid simply collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.
"Now, do you have a stim BD?" Cal asked, catching his breath.
BD beeped in approval, and threw one out which he quickly caught and injected. As the Bacta did its miracle, Cal sighed in relief.
"Let's see if we can find our way out of here," he muttered.
He did, indeed, find his way out.
He also found the welcoming committee waiting for him just outside.
"Cal Kestis!" the smaller of the two Inquisitors was flanked by black-armored Stormtroopers, who were aiming straight at him. "Surrender yourself right now, and we can avoid a bloodshed."
The other Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen, and that made things more worrisome.
"You're alone today?" he asked, trying to get time. He didn't think his odds were that good in this situation. If he retreated back in the temple, he might have time to plan something else, but there was no way to re-power the lift without a power-sphere.
"My sister is capturing your allies as we speak," the smaller inquisitor said. "Let us not prolong this any longer, however. We have a schedule to keep."
A rumbling came from below the ground. Cal felt it. Something was coming. Something big. The Force forewarned him of that. His eyes glanced to the side, to where a rock circular cover seemed to be standing over a vent.
"I see, but you know, I didn't catch your name and you do know mine," Cal said, trying to sound charming even as he raised his hands up in the air and began to slowly walk down.
He had to time it perfectly.
He had to trust in the Force to get him through.
"Trilla, Inquisitor Trilla," the smaller inquisitor said as she began to walk closer, her lightsaber strapped back to her belt and a pair of handcuffs instead floating into her hands, which she began to twirl gently around. "And it is good that you stopped running. There's a point where the death count marks a Jedi fugitive as a kill-on-sight, you know?"
"Oh, such reasonable people," Cal said, and then felt the final tremor.
BD beeped as he dashed, even as Trilla was briefly caught by surprise as he proceeded to slam her back, straight into the firing line of Purge Troopers. "Gah!" she exclaimed in shock, but he jumped on the stone cover just as a blast of powerful air detonated from below, sending the stone manhole to fly up, with him on it.
He held on to a side, hearing the blasters impact against the other side of his flying, makeshift cover. He flexed his legs, pushed the manhole towards the ground and then rolled away from it.
"STOP RUNNING!" Trilla's voice snarled loudly, "YOU ARE MERELY DELAYING THE INEVIT-"
But he was already gone. There was no way he'd wish to stick around.
---
The ship was being held down by concentrated firepower; if it attempted to lift off, the turbolasers would gun it down quickly. If it didn't, the Walkers would.
This wasn't the first ship she had gone through, but it was the first that had opposed such fierce resistance to as much as opening the doors. She had patience, but even her patience grew thin when whoever was on the other side announced it needed further time to wear his sixth pair of pants.
She could have gone nearer, used her lightsaber to open the door and perhaps gotten a full serving of a Blaster burst afterwards. She knew better than risking her life like that. And if there was explosive on the other side of the door, then any Trooper she sent would die.
Her gift in the Force made her empathetic, way more than normal; but while it was helpful in seeking out those who feared, or were harboring traitorous thoughts, it also was a double-edged blade that led her to keep her troops guarded.
It meant fewer losses, but it also meant taking things nice and slow which sometimes wasn't the best strategic advantage.
Case in point, she did hear an explosion as the ship's shields failed, and just as it did the Walkers stopped firing.
"Now I'll ask one more time," she roared, "Come out and surrender or we'll blow your ship up!"
She gritted her teeth as no reply was forthcoming, "enough time wasting," she growled. "Go! Breach!"
"Yes ma'am," the Purge Trooper Commander by her side gave hand-gestures, and a group of five moved towards the ship's door. They moved to the sides, one slamming a detonating charge against the center of the sealed entrance.
"Detonating," one of the Purge Troopers announced, pushing a button and letting the charge explode. Then, she heard the telltale sound of Blaster fire in bursts, "Entering!" the Purge Troopers moved in, "No contact! I repeat-no contact!"
Masana clenched her fists. "They can't have ran away! The ship's surrounded on all sides!"
And as soon as she said that, two shots fired from the ship. The escape pods launched themselves off the side, just as she felt fear and worry clutch the hearts of the Purge Troopers inside. "Bomb!" one of the Purge Troopers managed to scream from within, barely forewarning her.
With heavy heart and a scream born of rage, she called to the Force as the pavement of the docking hangar in front of her rose up to form a makeshift wall. The detonation slammed into the Walkers, toppling them on the ground. She felt the life of the Troopers within get snuffed out in a second, and she closed her eyes to squash those fleeting last instants of life out of her mind.
You share a gift similar to mine, Masana.
Allow me to warn you of its unfortunate consequence, as your Master probably did not.
When you open yourself up to feel what others do, you take their emotions in. The good, the bad, the sad...and their joys are your joys, their triumphs yours, but it is an open door. One that leads straight to your heart. The pain you will feel, the horrors you will witness, the rage, the anger of the living...the more you feel, the more overpowering it will be.
Order 66 broke me, Masana. Do not let such events break you.
Guard your heart, allow it to breathe, but never forget...
...life is a fleeting cauldron of turbulent emotions, and that is both a wonderful, and yet also incredibly traumatizing thing.
Learn to live with it. Learn to control it.
Or it will control you.
---
The field was peaceful.
It seemed taken out of a bucolic painting, and all that was missing were children playing in the fields. It was a simple, out of civilization place.
It was the place where the Free Ryloth movement had agreed to meet. It was the place where we would exchange prisoners.
"There are a lot of them," Anakin mused from my side.
"Good," I said. "It means we can fire at them in every direction and never miss."
Anakin chuckled. Behind us, chained and shackled hands and feet, were the prisoners of the failed attack on the Judgment. They were docile, if nothing else because they had been drugged by the interrogation droids to keep them tranquil. There wouldn't be any long-lasting effects, provided the talks proceeded properly.
"It was bold of you to come in person, Emperor," the words were carried with spite and venom. I kept my hands hidden within my long flowing robes, and glanced up in the direction of the twi'lek that had spoken. He was quite tall, orange-skinned and with his arms crossed in front of him as if expecting to have the upper hand in this conversation.
It was a flight of fancy I might allow him to keep, but I knew Anakin was a hair-trigger bomb most often when it came to diplomatic talks.
Around us, more rebels appeared with their blasters held at the ready.
"You are surrounded," the twi'lek continued. "You came with no reinforcements. You came with no Stormtroopers-" he was puzzled, "you cannot believe you will walk out of here."
I hummed, and then cocked my head to the side. "Tell me, what is your name?"
"My name? Ah! Imperial Intelligence must truly be worthless," the twi'lek snarled, "Then hear it! I'm Cham Syndulla, leader of the Free Ryloth movement, and-"
"It must have been tough," I said. "Gathering these people, rallying them to your cause."
"What are you...it has been," he admitted, "But it was worth it for this day, for-"
"The dead," I mused, "all those people who died for the cause, they're probably honored, aren't they?"
Cham was taken slightly aback, "They...they will be. What...what are you doing?"
"Talking," I said simply enough. "We came here to talk, Syndulla. That is what I wished to do from the beginning, and that is my objective. Let us talk, let us seek a middle ground of peace. Are you not tired of war, of death, of blood spilled on the ground?" I spoke gently, and even so my words carried with them the will of the Force.
They were slithering snakes of invisible desires; they were coaxing, toxic fumes that drained the will of the strong and readied to sink their hooked claws and barbs into the minds of the unwilling.
"T-That won't achieve anything..." Cham muttered.
"But I am a good listener, Syndulla," I pointed out. "Talk to me, tell me your worries, your problems, and we might find a solution. Crimes may be forgiven, you may return home..." I felt it in the Force, "To your family, to your daughter. As a Hero. Not a terrorist," I said, "A freedom fighter that fought, and won rights for his people."
Not freedom.
It would never be freedom.
But better working conditions could be arranged. The Moff could be strictly disciplined, or even replaced.
They would not have freedom, but their living conditions could be improved.
Panem et Circenses was a good thing, when the alternative was death.
"M-Maybe..." Cham mumbled, clutching his forehead. "Maybe we can t-talk..." his voice was slurred.
His body swayed briefly.
"What the hell-" a resistance fighter by his side muttered, "No! To hell with it! Open fire! The Emperor's using mind-"
He rasped, and choked in mid-air as Anakin lifted his left hand, and then clenched it.
The sharp crack startled Cham out of his fugue-like state, and I sighed. "Now you went and did it again, Anakin."
"They were going to open fire anyway," Anakin retorted as my hands both moved to the side, the laser bolts from the rebels all ceasing to move in mid-air, held back by the Force.
I concentrated, took a deep breath, and then pushed the bolts back to their makers.
"Fear and dead men," Anakin mused. "It's all I'm surrounded of most days of the week."
"Soon it will be Twi'Lek not-slaves," I grumbled as I began to walk forward, headed towards Cham Syndulla whom I had kept alive. "The Moff has questionable practices I need to root out of her, or replace her outright," I stared at the Twi'lek rebellion leader, Anakin's lightsaber flashing as he deflected a blaster shot from a survivor back at the rebel in question, who cried out as he collapsed on the back.
"So, where were we?" I mused as I extended a hand towards the man, watching his eyes widen at me. "Oh, yes..." I smiled at him.
"Tell me more about you, Cham..."
"...I am an Emperor of the People, after all."
Smashwords.
www.smashwords.com
Draft2Digital (multiple book libraries)
books2read.com
discord.gg
Twitter:
www.facebook.com
