Order 66.
Those were dark times. When the secret behind the clones was revealed, that they were programmed from birth to betray the Jedi Order and the Republic itself. When Darth Sidious and the Empire took control, when the Sith were allowed to wreak havoc and roam free.
When far too many Jedi fell.
Many escaped this treachery, and many more fled and hid. And still others fought back. These were the brave few, those who refused to let the Dark side prevail.
I was one of those few. Though I myself was more covert, and went into hiding with a specific choice of a starship. One that held hope in its existence, and one that could potentially keep the Jedi Order alive in one way or another.
The clone trooper stood guard, rigid and unmoving. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. He held the handle of his blaster in his right hand, and the grip under the barrel in the left. Another clone stood next to him on the opposite side of the heavy door. What they were guarding was an ancient ship with a crew of one, as ancient as the ship itself. They had heard stories about it, but they weren't concerned with those right now. They were more concerned with their duties.
Behind the door was the New Crucible, a ship that carried many Younglings to Ilum, a planet where young Jedi found their lightsaber crystals. The ship itself carried the parts of lightsabers, and the crew member taught each and every Jedi how to build their lightsaber correctly. Huyang was usually very wise and brave, but today, he could tell something was terribly wrong, and was very afraid.
"By whose order are you commandeering this ship, exactly?" he asked cautiously.
"Chancellor Palpatine, Professor," one of the clones responded flatly. "We were given specific orders to search every inch of this vessel and relocate any and all lightsaber parts and secure them in the vaults."
"Ah," Huyang said slowly, "I see." He watched as they pulled out several drawers and carried them out of the room. "And what is to become of me, did he say?" he asked.
"I'm… actually not sure, really," another clone responded. "We weren't given any word on what to tell you, to be honest, sir." He put a box down and picked up a body casing of a lightsaber handle. "May I ask what this is made out of?"
"Come on, Scrapper, we've no time to fiddle around," the head trooper told him. The clone put the casing back and picked up the box.
"Sorry, Professor," Scrapper said. "Perhaps I can ask you another time."
"I hope so, trooper," Huyang said, nodding slowly. He lowered his head and closed his optics. "I hope so."
The guards had just received radio confirmation that the cargo was being unloaded when they heard a strange, rhythmic sound coming down the hallway. They raised their blasters and walked slowly down the hall. They only got halfway before a cloaked figure came around the corner and stopped right in the middle of the entryway.
"Halt and identify yourself!" the clone to the left of the door shouted. The figure's head turned to look at them, and they felt a strange sense of fear come over them. The figure turned toward them and began walking straight at them.
"Stay back!" the other clone shouted. He aimed his rifle carefully and fired past the newcomer's head. Amazingly, the round never even passed the figure's head. It just stopped in midair, like it had been frozen in time. The clones both fired directly at the stranger, but the same thing happened; both shots merely froze in midair. The stranger stopped and raised his head slightly.
"Not working too well for you, is that?" he asked nonchalantly. The clones looked at each other and back to the stranger. "Tell me, how do you expect to shoot me down when you don't have working blasters?" The clones looked down at their firearms as they began to shake in their own hands. Suddenly, both rifles disassembled, their individual parts falling to the ground. The troopers looked at each other, and then felt themselves being lifted off of the ground. The figure remained still, not moving an inch. The blasts from the rifles were now pointing towards them, aimed at their respective shooters.
"You're a Jedi!" the first clone gasped.
"Very observant," the Jedi replied. "And you two are traitors. We fought side by side for years, only to have you succumb to a programming chip in your brain since birth."
"I don't remember you," the clone pointed out.
"And you never will," the Jedi said lowly. The clones' visions began to go dark, and they soon passed out. The Jedi gently lowered them to the ground and recalled the blasts to his sides. He walked forward, and the doors opened before him. A clone was just on the other side, holding a box of lightsaber parts. The two of them froze, and the clone looked at the energy blasts.
"Don't ask, just put the parts down gently and get out of the way," the Jedi said. The clone slowly obeyed and stepped to the side, falling over unconscious a few seconds later. The next few clones followed suit until the Jedi met the leader of the squadron and Scrapper, who had ran out to see what the commotion was. They drew their blasters, but they were shot out of their hands by the shots that were hovering next to the Jedi. The cloaked figure walked up to them, and the commander was suddenly levitated towards him. He hovered there for a few moments, staring the figure straight in the hood.
"Your mind is weak," the Jedi said after a few moments. "You show no resistance to the chip in your brain, and your will is meek. You are of no use to me." The commander suddenly slumped in midair, and the Jedi levitated him aside. The boxes levitated behind him as he walked towards Scrapper, who was backing into the vessel. The Jedi merely looked at him and walked past, not saying a word. The clone was just about to run when the loading ramp quickly raised itself shut, faster than it was ever known to. Scrapper froze, breathing heavily, and then walked into the main assembly room. The Jedi was putting the shelves back were they belonged very gently, lifting them up and inserting them by hand. He froze when Scrapper entered the room, and looked toward him.
"That is unnecessary, Professor Huyang," he said. "He will not harm us or this vessel." Scrapper whirled around to see the architect droid standing behind him, poised to hit him from behind. He was looking at the Jedi, his arm still raised.
"I've guarded the original build of this ship for thousands of years, and I refuse to let anyone disgrace or desecrate this new one as long as I function," the droid said sternly.
"As do I, Professor," the Jedi said, continuing his work. "But believe me, this young fellow will not bring any harm to you or the ship."
"How are you so sure?" Huyang asked skeptically.
"Well, for one thing, he has no weapon," The Jedi said, standing to face them. "That, and he has an odd gift, for being a clone trooper."
"What do you mean?" Scrapper asked.
"You, like so many of your brothers, have a strong will, a gracious heart, and a great mind," the Jedi said. "So much that you've overridden your chip's programming."
"What chip are you talking about?" Scrapper asked. The Jedi lowered his head.
"I'm sorry to do this," he said. "But otherwise it would be far too painful."
"What-?" Scrapper began to ask, but staggered to the floor, his world going black. He blacked out, falling forward onto the ground. Huyang relaxed and knelt down to the clone, looking at the Jedi.
"You did that?" he asked.
"Yep," the cloaked figure said, returning to the shelves.
"Why?" the professor asked.
"Because he needs my help, and I need his," the Jedi replied. "I could fight a war on my own, but my chances of success would diminish greatly with each passing day. That, and clones like him deserve a chance at redemption." He picked up a drawer, looking at its contents "Ooh, I could use that one," he said quietly, and put the drawer down on the table. Huyang got a glimpse of his hand as it stretched out from beneath the cloak. It seemed to be covered in metal!
"Who are you?" the professor asked. "Why have you come to this ship of all ships?" The Jedi turned to look at him, standing still for a few seconds. He then slowly reached up and removed the hood of the cloak.
His head was protected by a black and blue helmet, its design quite exquisite. A black visor hid his face, and a gold-and-silver crest donned the front of the top of the helmet, which jutted out to a point. Two angular antennae rose up from either side of the helmet. The jawline of the helmet was angular, and the part that covered his mouth was broad and pointed, the chin of it sticking out and coming to a point. As the hood fell, it was evident that something underneath the cloak was jutting upward from each of his shoulders.
"My name is Bahsé Sigré," the Jedi said. "And this is one of the most sacred ships of the Jedi. I came here to protect it, and to keep it secret from any who would wish to bring harm to it."
"And just how do you expect to do that when reinforcements are inbound?" the droid asked. Bahsé's head rose slightly, and he shifted his weight to one leg.
"Forgot about that," he said.