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Star Wars

Sentence of Death

Chapter 4

Padros stopped short of the dead clones and processed the damage he had unleashed. Both of the bodies were frozen in contorted positions and he could tell their last moments had been agonizing. His anger subsided as he recognized the subtle markings on one's helmet and he remembered his name was Toveo. He had been a key operative in scouting out hidden Separatist deployments in the jungles during the campaign. The man's ability to gather intelligence had saved many lives, including Padros'. Now Toveo was dead, like any other clone would be, if they were simply going to try and butcher him like a criminal.

If he didn't know any better, they would have seemed like good men just trying to save their injured comrade. In fact the scouts had actually felt human again. It had been a faint emotion, but Padros had sensed the compassion within them at the thought that one of their brothers was in need. This had been the first time he had seen clones act normal since… whatever had changed. The thought made him wonder how they had felt so different when they had turned on him.

Had something truly happened to the reputation of the Jedi or had something simply changed within the clones? He decided to continue the thought while he patched himself up.

Padros let his scorched chestpiece hit the ground with a satisfying thud and he felt a degree of relief as the cool air breathed on his chest for the first time in over a day. He then inspected his necklace for damage, and sighed in relief that it was fully intact. The Jedi were allowed little in the way of worldly possessions, so the necklace was special to him. He had fashioned the jewelry himself out of the ancient blue kyber crystal that Charren had given him, and he had viewed it as a sigil of good fortune since he joined the Order. The soft blue glow comforted him in times like these and reminded him of good memories.

He clasped the crystal tightly in his hand and forced a deep inhale despite the pain it caused him. The breath came out slow as he attempted to calm his rattled nerves again. His pain threshold instantly plummeted, and he crashed to the ground, realizing the severity of his wounds. The anger he wielded to kill the scouts had only released the dark side within him again for a brief moment, but his body had latched on to the connection all too readily. It had made him incredibly resilient to pain, but the infectious nature of the power was beginning to scare him. He reminded himself that he had only done what he had to in order to survive and now he had the means to banish his reliance. He crawled over to the fallen Toveo and snapped open the first aid kit to inspect its contents.

Padros depressed the trigger of the bacta canister, and with a sharp hiss, a thick foam gushed over his ribs. He couldn't help but let out a loud whine as the medicine spread deep into his wound and stung him mercilessly, but the pain quickly subsided as the analgesics entered his bloodstream. The bacta application was a temporary measure at best, but it would fully clot the bleeding and keep his mind off the pain. He then covered the worst of the wound with a stiff gauze and attempted to secure it with a protective bandage, but his limited mobility proved the placement difficult and painful. As he slowly wrapped himself up, his thoughts drifted back to speculations about the clones.

He had never heard of any cases of mental illness in the troopers, but they had seemingly transformed overnight. They were far more vicious in their attacks than he had ever seen against the Separatists, yet their demeanors were fully compartmentalized, like they were just following orders. The thought of the Republic ordering the deaths of the Jedi seemed ludicrous to him though and his mind raced for alternate explanations.

The Republic had heard rumors of Separatist bioweapons specifically being developed to target clones, but there had never been any real evidence of the programs. The tide of the war had clearly shifted though in recent months, and it was possible that the Separatists could have unleashed something now that their principle leaders were either dead or near capture. It would have made sense for them to try and annihilate the Republic's armies, but this seemed far more insidious than anyone could have imagined. A virus or mechanism that drove the clones to kill all of the Jedi generals would be a far more devastating blow both militarily and politically for the Republic. It also meant the Separatists could control the Republic's armies. Without the Jedi or an army, the war was over. He wondered if the war was over. The problem with that theory though, was that Edge seemed completely unaffected. If it had truly been an infectious bio weapon, he would have been exposed to it in the camp and become like the other clones. The possibility began to seem unlikely to him and he struggled to come up with another explanation.

Was it possible that the Republic had actually turned on the Jedi? The war had taken a heavy toll on the galaxy, and after the second year, many senators had begun to waiver in their support. It had also degraded relations between the Jedi and the public. Many believed that a treaty needed to be brokered, but the High Council had insisted on unconditional surrender. Many viewed the Jedi as warmongers, rather than guardians these days. The High Council wasn't helping either with their increasing political involvement and public distrust of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

The severity of the situation still seemed suspicious to Padros though. The Republic wouldn't simply comply with the abrupt execution of all the Jedi. The Jedi were the first guardians of the Republic and the keepers of many secrets in the galaxy, but they had always been entrusted with expectation that it was for the better. An official dismissal of the Jedi Order, or arrests and trials would have been the expected procedure of justice if a conspiracy had been uncovered. Furthermore, the High Council would have needed to greatly overstep their authority and be considered an active threat to justify a military response and only Supreme Chancellor Palpatine would have been able to authorize it. His suppositions of betrayal also didn't explain why all of the Jedi were being targeted including him, a Padawan and minor in age. Unless the Republic had decided to start murdering innocent children for the sins of the Jedi Masters, his second theory was even more ludicrous than the first.

Padros made the last pass with the bandage and tied it secure. It was by no means a professional looking job, but it would keep the wound from getting infected. He then turned his attention to the punctures on his leg and began fill them with bacta foam too.

His head swirled with other possibilities, but the more he thought about it, the more it gave him a headache. He felt like he had more questions than answers now. Whatever the truth may be, he sensed it was monstrous and the future made him sick with fear. He caught himself after a moment and retracted the negative emotion. He noticed that his willpower was consistently eroding now, but it felt like it was more than just his failings that were responsible. The same temptations he used to resist were stronger, as if the dark side was attempting to claim him every moment he lowered his guard. In fact everything about Darmoth was beginning to feel different. A living shroud of darkness seemed to have fallen on the planet that night to prey on the chaos. It was as if a pendulum in the force had shifted in favor of the dark side.

He had learned about the living aspect of the Force from Charren and how the light and the dark fought for influence in the galaxy. The shift didn't make sense though, since Skywalker had recently killed the leader of the CIS and Sith Lord, Count Dooku. He thought the Jedi had finally won, but that didn't seem to be the case. The dark side was rising, which meant the Jedi had failed. Charren had been reluctant to join the Clone Wars at first. He had suspected it to be a ruse, sewn by the Sith to distract and divide the Jedi. It wasn't until the Jedi Order's numbers had fallen dangerously low that he finally agreed to take the fight to the frontlines. Now the truth seemed to be obvious. This had to be the revenge of the Sith that Charren had suspected was coming. Through their inability to see the real threat, whatever that was, the High Council had failed them all. It angered him, but he knew he needed to focus on the future now. He needed answers, and finding Charren was the first step.

The wound on his leg was now securely wrapped too, so Padros returned his attention to the task at hand. The injuries were finally in a stable condition, but his body couldn't take much more punishment. He had felt much better without the weight of the heavy chestpiece, but it was the only protection he had without a lightsaber. He begrudgingly strapped it back on and forced himself back to his feet. The weapon would have saved him a significant amount of trouble if it weren't for Edge's "brilliant" idea.

Padros had been too preoccupied to notice until now, but it seemed like Edge had been gone for far too long. He looked up through the opening in the canopy and spotted the first light of dawn then pulled up his sleeve and checked the clock on his smart display; it had been four hours now. If something had gone wrong, it meant he was on his own now. He didn't want to abandon Edge's efforts to help him, but he couldn't wait forever either. With the cover of dark almost gone, Joran would surely have even more troops hunting him too. His fierce desire to survive left him conflicted, but he remembered Edge's last words to him and resolved to have faith in his friend for a little while longer. He reminded himself again that patience was the way of the Jedi.

Padros glanced down at Toveo's contorted body again, and frowned as he remembered the service record of the once valiant clone trooper. Despite his betrayal, the man had still saved his life on several prior occasions. The least he could do was give him and the other scout a better funeral. He crouched beside Toveo and and crossed his arms over his camouflaged chestpiece, and straightened his legs. Padros been used to destroying droids for so long, he forgot what it was like to kill a living being. It was sad in a way, but a necessary action still. If he hadn't slain them, it would have been him lying on the ground, and Padros doubted he would have received a funeral. He began to conclude the service with a recital of the Jedi code, but a distant rustle in the jungle took him by surprise. He sensed a single clone, hollow like the rest. The blaster on Toveo's belt caught his eye, but he felt reluctant to make any more noise and instead used the force to rip free the combat knife still embedded in the other scouts throat. He caught the knife, then spun on his feet and prepared to sling the blade at the coming threat.

Branches snapped, leaves rustled, and a bird squawked at the approaching trooper. The clone was being exceptionally noisey, and seemed unconcerned with revealing himself. Padros found it unusual, but remained focused on the kill and held the knife steady. A bush finally parted to reveal the white-armored trooper, and a moment later, the clone was in plain view. Padros gasped as he recognized the unmistakable Phase I helmet and blue paint job, and lowered the knife in confusion. Padros had a bad feeling about the situation, but Edge showed no signs of hostility, yet. He was after all his best chance of survival still. Padros carefully noted the sidearm on Edge's hip and decided to hear him out first. He kept the weapon in-hand, but concealed it behind his back. Edge spotted him a moment later and waved before heading in his direction.

"So everything went well?" Padros started.

"Yes, everything went well," Edge replied stiffly as he approached.

An awkward silence followed the reply, before Padros reinitiated the conversation. "What did you learn about the situation? Did you retrieve my lightsaber by the way?" Edge was silent though, and Padros traced his gaze back to the slain scouts and Nexu in the clearing behind him.

"You've been busy," Edge noted. "What made it come back this way?" he said pointing to the Nexu.

"Some Carrouga. It was on the hunt…" Padros remarked with a degree of irritation. Killing a Nexu single-handedly wasn't an easy task. His friend hadn't even asked if he was alright.

"Guess that knife did the trick then," Edge notioned to the weapon he had attempted to conceal.

Padros lowered his eyes in embarrassment and revealed it after a degree of hesitation. He realized how foolish the attempt had been, especially since Edge had given it to him. The attempt at concealment didn't seem to bother Edge though, and he simply continued onto the next matter at hand.

"Looks like you got a good bit of use out of it after all…" Edge shifted his attention to the dead scouts and was silent for another moment. "Why did you kill them?" he asked with an accusatory tone.

"I'm… not sure I had a choice," Padros replied, taken aback by the comment. "They heard me fighting the Nexu and were suspicious. One of them had a first aid kit too, look," Padros pointed to his bandaged wounds and gave him an annoyed look.

"I told you I would bring one though," Edge objected and removed a large backpack. "This has everything you will need to survive out here."

Edge set it on the ground and began to unpack it, laying out a variety of food and supplies on the ground before Padros. He then removed his helmet and motioned for Padros to come and sit with him. The uneasiness Padros had felt began to subside at the sight of food and he realized how long it had been since he had last eaten. He didn't like the unfamiliar feeling he got from Edge, but it still seemed like he was trying to help. Padros settled down and accepted an energy bar, but continued to watch Edge intently. The clone's face looked blank and he avoided eye contact by preoccupying himself with the calibrations for a medical device.

"Those were good men. I recogni-"

"Toveo, I know." Padros snapped.

Edge looked up and his sharp black eyes seemed to pierce through Padros. It was clearly a look of hate, but then Edge seemed to ignore the comment and went back to what he was doing.

"I'm just saying you didn't have to kill them. Now go ahead and take off your armor, I'm going to check everything out. Just to be sure," he stated.

Padros was in no mood to justify his actions to the increasingly hostile man, so he simply shrugged and said "I'm fine for now, really. Thanks for bringing the supplies though." Padros took a bite of the energy bar and smiled at Edge who went back to calibrating the equipment. Padros immediately glanced around the jungle, trying not to be obvious. Nothing seemed suspicious, besides Edge.

"It's ready to scan. I insist," Edge ordered this time.

Padros didn't like that Edge was so insistent on him removing his last layer of protection, and he had avoided the earlier question of whether or not he had reclaimed his lightsaber. Padros finally accepted the likelihood that his "friend" was intentionally trying to make him vulnerable, but he still couldn't understand why. One thing was clear though; whatever had been done to the other clones had now been done to his one friend and last ally. The thought of running away crossed his mind, but he really didn't have anywhere to go. His wounds were far too severe to survive without real treatment. If he ran now, he would never get any answers either. He decided to take his chances with Edge for a little while longer.

The clone was studying him now, aware of the uncertainty he felt towards him. Padros quickly diverted with a question: "You never answered me about the lightsaber earlier, Edge... You didn't lose my lightsaber did you?" he said with a hint of sarcasm to try and de-escalate the tension.

"No, I didn't bring it back," Edge replied dryly.

"You said you would though. Great, so it's just rusting in the jungle now?" he joked again.

"I can return for it after I know you are alright. Now remove your armor."

"It's no use," Padros thought to himself. He knew he would have to attempt more aggressive methods if he were to get anything from the clone. Their eyes locked for several seconds before Padros finally had enough. He rose to his feet and drew upon the force, then pressed Edge for a real answer.

"What happened to you?" he commanded.

The move caught Edge off-guard and his composure immediately collapsed. "I won't bend to you, Jedi!" he shouted as he fought off the intrusion.

Edge sensed a disturbance in the jungle around him. They weren't alone; Edge had been bait afterall. Padros could feel dozens of clones closing in from every side now, and he knew escape wasn't an option. He turned to back to his former friend and unleashed a powerful field of energy that lifted Edge into the air and immobilized him.

"Why are they doing this to me! And why did you join them!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Edge was silent for a moment before he finally admitted: "We have been tasked with the execution of Order 66 by order of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. All Jedi are to be eliminated for their betrayal of the Republic."

Padros nearly dropped Edge at the revelation. "Was Palpatine be aligned with the Sith?" He riddled himself. He returned his attention to Edge. "Palpatine ordered this? I don't understand! He has been an ally of the Jedi for his entire career! He has specifically relied on Charren for special assignments for years!"

"And still your Jedi Council attempted to assassinate him and seize power. Disgusting." Edge snarled.

This time he did drop Edge, and continued to ramble in his and Charren's defense before the clone even hit the ground. "No! We didn't have anything to do with whatever the High Council attempted. We deserve a trial, you said it yourself!"

Edge began to respond, but was cut short.

"We have our orders," a stout voice responded from afar. Commander Joran emerged from the jungle in his unmistakable white and crimson armor plus a visor that radiated a hellish glow. The commander had always been fond of intimidation tactics, and had proudly customized his appearance to be menacing and aggressive, despite the lack of camouflage his color choice provided in conjunction with the local terrain. He was flanked by his elite squad of similarly clad troopers, all with Vanguard-model shotguns aimed at the Jedi. Dozens more troopers poured into the clearing from every direction, ready to kill him the moment he tried to resist; Joran had dispatched an entire platoon to deal with him. Without even a lightsaber to defend himself, he knew escape was impossible.

He turned angrily to Edge, who was just getting up, and screamed, "Traitor!"

Edge returned an angry look and responded, "No! you're the traitor! I'm done with you and your Jedi treachery! I have done my part to save the Republic!"

It was no use, his former friend was completely brainwashed, and Padros figured it pointless to reply. Joran proceeded towards them with an arrogant look about him, and notioned for his troops to encircle their prey. Padros took a second look around at all of the forces closing in and realized the clone commander had mustered nearly all of his reserves just to ensure his capture. Padros didn't even realize he was that much of a threat, and admitted to himself that he was somewhat flattered. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Edge kneel to reclaim his helmet off the ground. The clone methodically slipped the helmet back on and secured it, and just like that, Edge was just another one of them.

"Don't try to resist Jedi, and I may show you mercy. Mercy that you don't deserve," Jorran stated coldly.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice. The last thing he wanted was a miserable death from the bitter commander he had already embarrassed on several occasions. He tossed the combat knife onto the ground and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"On your knees Jedi," Joran commanded.

He obeyed the order and dropped to the soft dirt. A trooper was on him a moment later to restrain him with field-cuffs. Joran was standing over him a moment later, silent and menacing. He couldn't see his face, but Padros sensed his satisfaction and was sure the man held a cruel, victorious smile on his face. He reached out with the force to see if the other clones felt the same. There was a degree of anger, but nothing like when they had been on the hunt earlier that night. They seemed to be placated now; they knew they had their prey, and were in anticipation of the kill. This wasn't them just following orders, he was sure of that. Padros could explain Joran's behavior. Clone commanders were bred and trained to think differently, but the rest of the men seemed faceless and inhuman in his presence. This was plain unnatural and he was certain they were being controlled by something or someone. Joran removed his sidearm and held it to Padros' forehead.

"I demand a trial!" he blurted out. "The Republic performs trials before any measures of justice are conducted!"

Joran cocked his head in amusement and lowered himself to eye level with Padros. "A trial?" he said sarcastically. The commander seemed interested in toying with his prey.

"Yes, a trial," Padros innocently affirmed.

"I'm not taking you back to Coruscant. You aren't getting an official trial," Joran dictated.

"Then at least an unofficial one. Here and now." Padros argued. "If I was declared guilty of treason by the Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, I demand to see the evidence."

Joran laughed and raised himself back to his feet, then began a slow pace around Edge. "The Jedi says he deserves a trial! So permission to speak freely, what do you boys think?"

To Padros' surprise, the eerily quiet troops followed their commander's lead and erupted into a chorus of laughter, mockery, and death chants, and he could tell Joran was enjoying every second of it.

"Alright Jedi. Padros. We've served together for some time. If you want answers then I'll approve your request for the little good it will do you. I have plenty of evidence for you, and I have plenty of time. Word arrived just before we left that my scouts have located your elusive master. I assume you know where he is?"

"The primary Separatist mining complex?" Padros asked with a degree of confidence. He recalled telling Edge earlier that night. The information wouldn't be a secret at this point.

"That's the one! Iridium Mining Depot-01!" Joran congratulated. "The facility is fully besieged now. I sent the rest of the battalion to reinforce the attack. Nobody gets in, nobody gets out. If the remaining droids down there don't kill him, we will. After we deal with you of course. So, he can wait. You can have your trial." he said mockingly.

Padros didn't reply, and instead glanced at Edge again who was unmoving. Joran picked up on the look and called Edge to the front of the circle.

"With all witnesses present, we will begin your trial. I'm sure you have many questions," Joran gloated. "Why don't I have Edge answer some for you." The commander turned to his soldier and issued an order. "Corporal Ed-... CC-9991," he corrected himself. "Why did you help the Jedi?"

"I was unaware of our new orders. I also suffered a technological malfunction, sir!"

"Now keep that second part in mind," Joran noted. "First I want to present the requested evidence. We're all about the facts around here, after all. Approximately seven hours ago, I received an emergency encrypted transmission from Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. A classified battle command in fact. Order 66, as it happened to be. Now, we have procedures for these Tier 0 commands. They require activation codes that only the Supreme Chancellor has access to. The Supreme Chancellor is the only one that can issue them, and he must issue them live and individually.

"Wait," Padros cut in. "You mean Palpatine contacted you directly?" He couldn't believe Palpatine had specifically ordered Joran to kill him and Charren, despite all his master had done for the politician over the years.

Yes, and when I receive a personal order from the ultimate authority of our government, I know it's not a mistake and I know not to question it. Tier 0 commands demand complete obedience and exact execution. I don't need evidence. I don't even need approval from my commanding officer. The fact that I haven't already killed you is a violation in itself, but you lack the risk factor of a full Jedi Knight or Master, and I respect your survivability for such a young man. Now, for the sake of this trial… I will have you know that an official report did come in from the Office of Military Intelligence, and it read that the Jedi High Council attempted to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor and seize power."

"No, that's impossible!" Padros shouted.

"There is a path of destruction in the Senate building and four dead Jedi Masters in Supreme Chancellor's private office that say otherwise." Joran turned his attention to the dead scouts and paced over to them to pay his respects.

Again, Padros had no response for the commander. If what he said was true though, how could all of the Jedi Masters have been killed? Or rather who could have killed them. The answer seemed obvious now. Only a Lord of the Sith could have achieved such a victory, which meant they had allied themselves with the Supreme Chancellor. How could the Jedi Order have missed this? If the Sith controlled the CIS and the Republic, that meant the Clone Wars was orchestrated! The entire thing had been a setup for… this?

For the first time in his life, Padros wasn't proud to be a Jedi. The Sith had tricked the galaxy into fighting the Clone Wars and The High Council had been played like fools. For all the talk of Grand Master Yoda's ability of foresight, he too had completely failed to safeguard the Jedi Order. There must have been signs, yet the High Council had simply played into the trap, too focused on the obvious enemy. He thought back to Charren's many lectures on force cycles, and realized his master had been right all along. The Jedi had only doomed themselves by not evolving to prevent this catastrophe.

He himself had witnessed the power it offered; it had been an invaluable tool that had allowed him to survive. The power was intoxicating, but he had turned away from it before... Perhaps it was the way out again. There was still a major problem though. He was restrained, weaponless, and nearly a third of the battalion was present. If he was going to attempt anything, it would require a greater command over the force than he had ever been capable of before.

Joran gently tapped the chestplate of each scout with a closed fist and issued a final salute to the men. He turned and extended a finger towards Padros. "Murderers and liars!" he shouted, back to putting on a show. "Not only is this Jedi guilty of conspiracy. He has murdered our brothers in cold blood! The evidence is clear, and the sentence is death!"

The troops grumbled angrily in response, and he sensed the opportunity. If survival wasn't the way of the Jedi, then so be it. The order could die out today, and only they would be to blame for their demise. He on the other hand, would defeat the Sith, no matter the cost. He was willing to use all aspects of the force to enhance his capabilities. Padros began to draw on their emotions and gather his power. Joran, he noted, was still on a power trip.

"You know, I've fought with a lot of Jedi over the course of the war. You're great soldiers on the front lines, but your military strategy has always been reckless and rudimentary. It's ludicrous that the Senate made the lot of you military generals based upon your wisdom as mystics and warriors. A lot of clones have suffered under your negligence on the battlefield and I can't say I'll miss you."

The troops became more rowdy and aggressive, and Padros began to struggle to maintain his focus. The influx of dark energy steadily grew stronger, like Darmoth itself had joined in the frenzy.

"And who do we have to thank for this apprehension? None other than former Jedi sympathiser, CC-9991," Joran proclaimed.

The crowd turned their aggression towards Edge, who still stood silent at attention.

"Our brother, turned his back on the Republic to protect this traitor! After hours of interrogation by our talented field surgeon, CC-9991 finally realized the error of his ways and agreed to rectify his mistakes. However, seeing that his actions have led to the deaths of two of our finest scouts, his crimes cannot go unpunished!"

The clones roared in response, while Joran marched over and grabbed Edge by the shoulder. The influx of energy had amplified to nearly uncontrollable levels, and Padros was quietly shaking under the pressure. He had made a mistake thinking he could control the darkside, and now it was swallowing him up. His entire body began to feel inflamed and his eyes felt like they were going to roll back into his skull, but he couldn't stop it. His face screwed up in a look of terror as he continued to lose control. The power seemed to have a mind of its own, and it demanded he continue to gather it. He barely noticed as Edge was thrown to the ground next him.

"Let it be known, that all deserters and traitors will receive nothing less than capital punishment from this day forth. No longer shall we be bound by the laws of the weak and incapable Republic. My brothers, before we departed for this hunt I received great news. The leaders of the Separatists have been executed and Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has been ascended to the title of Emperor! Let us celebrate with death to our enemies!"

Tears burst from Padros' eyes as the pain plateaued and he moaned in agony. Joran misread the gesture and lowered himself even with his prisoner again. Padros opened his eyes to see the clone commander, but everything had become blurry from the tears and pain he felt.

"Oh yes, it's time at last. I can see your fear now, but don't worry. It's not your turn yet. Edge goes first. What do you think about that CC-9991?"

"Yes sir," Edge replied. He removed his helmet and closed his eyes, ready for execution.

His last bit of control slipped away and Padros felt himself be swallowed up by the strength of the darkside. He was immobilized, hostage to the omnipotent dark energy.

"The power of an inhibitor chip is remarkable," Joran affirmed. "This is what happens to bad soldiers who don't follow orders." He placed the muzzle of his blaster pistol to Edge's forehead, but kept his attention on Padros. "Are you paying attention, Jedi?"

Padros managed a look of horror at the response. Edge hadn't just betrayed him; he had been mentally enslaved, and now Joran was just casting him aside like a spent pawn. The notion sickened him, and his rage ignited like never before. The pain vanished, or rather became irrelevant to him. Then his vision returned to focus and he gave Joran a look of sadistic delight. The power he wielded felt glorious, and he was nearly in full control of it.

"What the…" Joran mumbled in confusion.

The clone commander reeled back in panic as he too witnessed the transformation overtaking the young man. The full power of the darkside flowed through Padros now and the physical effects had already begun to onset his appearance. His skin grew pale to reveal his veins, his muscles bulged with terrible strength, and his eyes began to shine a malignant amber. The clone commander had never seen anything like it. Behind the veil of his helmet, he was now the one with a look of fear on his face.

"I am not a Jedi," Padros uttered. The cuffs which had restrained him shattered into fragments of twisted metal and he began to mould a ball of dark energy in his hands. Pebbles, twigs, and other small debris began to rise from the forest floor, while the air began to ripple as a prelude to the coming storm.

"Open fire!" Joran screamed.

Every single clone trooper raised their weapon in an attempt to comply, but it was too late. Padros unleashed a devastating shockwave and the clones were sent flying in every direction, their screams drowned out by the sonic boom of the air pressure. Some of the soldiers smashed into trees and logs, and multiple armor plates could be heard cracking upon impact. Others violently tumbled across the ground or became ensnared in the surrounding vegetation. Many of the troops had been completely blown outside of the clearing, including Joran who was nowhere to be seen.

Padros rose to his feet, still enthralled by the dark essence that had given him strength and witnessed the devastation he had unleashed. It felt incredibly satisfying, and a smile lined his face. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but he had just dealt his first blow to the Sith by denying them his head. Some of the clones lay motionless, but many were rolling in pain or just in shock. He knew they would become hostile again in a few minutes. Joran had been so concentrated on capturing and making an example out him, that he had made the crucial mistake of concentrating all of his strength in a small vicinity. With a full platoon from the battalion temporarily disabled and the rest deployed to IMD-01 to deal with Charren and the Separatists, he knew the base camp would have minimal security. Yet again, the darkside had created an opportunity for him to survive.

The chances of him reaching the safety of his Jedi Starfighter were good, but finding Charren was a different story. The commander was still under the impression that the Jedi Master was alive, but that didn't necessarily mean it was true. Word of Charren's death could take days to relay back to surface troops. The deep tunnel networks and dense strata of Darmoth made it impossible to send rapid transmissions from underground.

The Separatists had run physical communications lines from the surface facility to their deep underground headquarters for their own networks, but once a Republic attack began, it was standard protocol to destroy or sabotage the systems. This tactic effectively cut the CIS off from their own external communications, but it turned any siege attempt by the Republic into a nightmare. The Republic armies had to resort to the archaic practice of foot runners to get messages from the front lines to command. The mines had exclusively been designed for droids too, so safety conditions were often abysmal and the smaller passages sometimes collapsed, leaving squads trapped until an emergency crew could respond. Commander Joran had wanted to just call in an orbital bombardment, collapse all of the entrances, then call it a day (one of the few things they could all agree on), but Republic Intelligence had deemed IMD-01 a "priority asset" that needed to be seized intact. "Easy for them to say," the troops had said. After the CIS fleet tasked with resupplying the mining facilities had jumped system, Joran had made the smart decision to perform a slow, but methodical invasion of IMD-01, until now.

If Joran had sent the rest of his battalion into the mines to clear the facility and find the Jedi Master, the Separatists had surely responded to the initiative with a counter attack. According to the Republic Intelligence, IMD-01 was the largest facility on the planet, and possibly a construction site for a new battle droid foundry. The report had concluded the facility was far from completion, but there would be no shortage of defenders. He had fought long enough in the Clone Wars to know it would be total chaos down there once the two forces clashed in mass. If Charren wasn't dead yet, he would be soon with both armies now gunning for him.

If Edge had still been on his side to help gather intel and navigate security checkpoints, they might have successfully infiltrated the clone ranks. Now it would just be suicidal for him to attempt a rescue mission, even with his new powers. The realization that he would have to abandon Charren finally sank in. His master was the one man he could have relied on to help build a new order of force wielders, but instead he would just be another casualty of the war. His passion burned at the loss, but Padros knew he still needed to ensure his own survival if the Sith were to be defeated. He also knew Joran would sacrifice every last one of his soldiers to kill the two of them. It was better not to be under the hammer any longer than necessary.

He considered attempting to find the commander for a moment, so that he could kill him right then and there, but he knew he would be pushing his luck if he pursued the vendetta. Joran was a vicious killer, and might still put up a decent fight. Instead, he broke into a brisk stride knowing his escape was still assured. He crushed several of the survivors with the force as he went, but paused at the edge of the clearing. Edge lay sprawled out on the ground with a gash visible on his head. Padros sensed the clone was still alive, but he looked to have suffered a concussion. The sad sight of Edge readying himself for execution was still burned in his memory. He felt pity for his former friend, but knew there was nothing he could do at this point to bring Ege back from his enslaved fugue-state. Except one thing; he could at least put Edge out of his misery.

He raised his hand, ready to project deadly force, but a shot rang out and he was forced to duck at the last second. He spun on his heels to see a lone, wounded trooper bearing a pistol. The trooper fired again, aiming for center mass. Padros responded with the force and imploded the plasma shot before it could reach its target. The trooper began to fire rapidly, but Padros dispelled the barrage until the weapon overheated, then crushed the blaster in the trooper's hand. Now weaponless, the clone attempted to limp away, but Padros crushed his esophagus without mercy. Before he could return his attention back to Edge though, several more clones appeared including some of Joran's elite men. He had already wasted too much time. The ensuing hail of gunfire forced him to back off, and he accepted that it was time for him to leave everything and everyone behind. He fled for the camp before anymore of the clones recovered to pursue him.