Fifteen
Blue blaster bolts lanced towards Hoday and his lightsabre snapped on as he went into auto-pilot. The purple blade swept up and batted bolts into the walls beside him. One of the troopers went down, winged by one of the bolts and the rest dived for cover into doorways.
Before they could return fire, an explosion threw them all to the floor, including the rogue trooper that had opened fire. The rumbles echoed through the corridor, but no flames appeared, something for which Hoday was very grateful. He made to pull himself back up to his feet, but instinct forced him to stay on one knee, ducking his head down.
Behind him, a carbine spat fire, throwing a burst of blue down the corridor. Ahead of them, the figure was already rising to his feet, using his rifle as a crutch. The bolts intercepted him, blowing his chest-plates open and throwing him against the wall. His helmet drooped and he lay still.
Hoday turned to see Jay lowering his carbine and extending his hand, indicating Jaig should move up. Without hesitating, the sergeant leapt up, his own arms moving to push his troopers up to secure the body and the corridor. They moved quickly, calling back to Hoday and Jay that it was clear, and the pair moved up to examine the body.
"Now to find out what the haran is going on here," muttered Jaro.
Jaig and Jay both glanced at him in surprise at his use of Mando'a, but the Jedi completely ignored them, putting a hand on the dome of the helmet of the body in front of him and pushing it up so he could get a closer look.
"You ever seen anything like this?" he asked.
"It's similar to mine," said Jaig, crouching next to Hoday. "But like it's been changed, given eyes or something. And what are these?"
The sergeant traced a finger along the tubular bottom edge of the helmet before rotating it to get a better look at the back and sides of it. The indentations on the cheeks of the helmet were more pronounced than on his own, and the off-shoots at the bottom of the visor looked a lot more like a frown, giving the helmet something like a stylized face.
Jay, standing over the pair, shook his head at the body before turning his attention to the cables, tracing their route into the ceiling and trying to see where they went from there.
Hoday reached forward and tugged off the helmet, spinning it over in his hands and peering inside at the workings. Around him, the troopers all recoiled, Jaig staggering backwards and falling back onto his hands. Hoday looked up at the troopers with a questioning look before looking back at the body.
He stood quickly, dropping the helmet and taking a step back.
Instead of the familiar tanned olive skin and dark black hair of the clone troopers he was used to, the head of the dead trooper was shriveled and grey, with sunken cheeks and his skin a mass of wrinkles and scars. What little hair there was on his head was patchy and grey, and the skin on scalp was raw, with red patches and flakey skin.
Jay turned to see what the fuss was about and recoiled as well, pressing himself against the wall and gasping.
"He looks like a corpse," he whispered.
"What could've caused this?" asked Jaig, looking at Hoday.
"I have no idea," replied the Jedi, shaking his head. "This could be the effect of time travel, if it turns out Jay is correct."
"Could it be a virus?"
"If it is, it's no virus I've ever seen. And that doesn't tell us why he opened fire when I challenged him."
"It could be space dementia."
"I don't think so. The log doesn't mention that they were in hyperspace for that long."
"The log doesn't say how long they were drifting here by the nebula in our time," said Jay quietly.
His simple statement silenced the group, who merely stared at the body before them.
After a few minutes, Hoday moved away, glancing back at the body for a second before moving back towards the cables.
"Strip the body of ammo. Leave the rations, only take his power packs."
One of the troopers knelt to the task and Jaig moved over to see to the trooper that had been winged. Other than a scorch-mark on his shoulder-bell, the trooper was fine, but the general consensus was that he'd have a nasty bruise there for the next few days.
Meanwhile, Jay had torn his gaze away from the body and was looking back up into the ceiling. Hoday joined him, and they both began to reach up to pry away the ceiling panels, trying to see where the cables led. They ended up removing parts of ceiling leading to the right of the body, and following the cable all the way along the corridor. The cables then disappeared up another passageway, and the pair stopped and made their way back to the small knot of white armoured troopers.
"The cables seem to go deeper into the ship, and I want to follow them," said Hoday.
Jaig nodded, pulling the strange helmet off his head and replacing his own back onto his head.
"Alright. Form up, troops. What do we do about the body, sir?"
"Leave it here. Nothing we can for him. How's the helmet?"
"Very similar to my own," replied the sergeant, gesturing to the helmet on the floor. "A lot of the functions appear to have been improved."
"Clone troopers from the future," muttered Jay, crouching over the cables on the floor with his arm extended and datapad screen active, as though scanning them.
"Take the helmet with us. I want the techs to fully examine it."
One of the troopers picked it up, and with some modification of his belt, managed to clip it so it hung over his right buttock. Hoday, meanwhile, had moved beside Jay and was watching what he was doing.
"I'm not getting any readings," said Jay, confusion evident in his voice. "There's nothing showing up. No power readings, no energy of any kind, no nothing."
"Do you recognise the material used?"
"Sort of looks like rubber, but it feels…wrong, somehow. I don't know."
Hoday knelt and laid a hand on one of the cables, closing his eyes as he reached out with the Force. A frown creased his face, and he opened his face, looking down at the thick black cabling.
"I can't feel anything either, but it's strange."
"Why? Some sort of Force-inert material?"
"It's not like, it's…it's like I'm being blocked somehow, like some sort of Force-jamming. I've never felt anything like it."
"Do you think it could be Sith magic?"
Hoday looked down at Jay in astonishment.
"How do you know about the Sith?"
"I used to want to be a Jedi when I was a kid," said Jay sheepishly, studiously avoiding Hoday's gaze. "I did a lot of research into it and found out some things I probably shouldn't have."
"Not many know about the Sith, and for good reason. We don't exactly advertise their existence, because we don't want every nutcase in black clothes and a wand claiming to be a Sith and trying to kill Jedi."
"Yeah, I understand."
Hoday sighed. "I'm not sure what this is, and to a certain extent, I'm not sure I want to know."
Unseen by the troopers, the Jedi pulled a flask off his belt, unscrewed the top and took a long swig from the contents. Being in close proximity, Jay could smell the strong alcohol contained within and covered his reaction by turning off the 'pad in his arm. In one smooth practiced motion, Hoday returned it to his belt and retrieved his lightsabre.
"Right. Let's find out where these cables lead."
***
The engine above them created an almost curved ceiling, with scaffolding and walkways surrounding it like a half-built construction site. Consoles and work-stations were littered throughout the room, with thick cabling snaking their way from each station to cut-outs in the flooring and walls. Several of the consoles were still alight, their screens glowing dully in the low light, and a low hum filled the air.
But what really caught Shane and Arkaan's attention was the blood-red writing covering every inch of the engine housing. Above the main engineering pit, where the main diagnostic and administrative functions were performed, a single, massive sigil was somehow glowing at them from where it was painted on the cowling of the engine. Surrounding it were hundreds of smaller glyphs and runes, branching out and spreading to cover the dull metal, and some of the lines of text glowed, whilst others were barely visible.
The floor beneath them was mercifully clear, but a lot of the consoles from which the cables sprouted were covered in more text, and, in the distance, some of the walls they could see also had lines of text scrawled up and down the metal.
Arkaan lowered his rifle and walked towards the main workstation, stepping over black cabling and discarded tools as he did so. The group followed, Shane keeping his Westar leveled warily and Marcla blinking rapidly around her, as though confused about something.
Instead of activating the consoles in front of him, Arkaan knelt at the console and ran a gloved hand over the writing. He reached up and tugged off his helmet, setting it down beside him and peering closely at the writing.
"Impossible," he whispered.
"What?" said Shane, crouching down beside him.
"This text…I think it's an ancient form of Mandalorian script."
"How can you tell?"
Arkaan picked up his helmet and pointed to some small lettering stenciled onto the painted beskar, then pointed to the scripting on the console.
"See the similarities? It's a lot more runic than the modern script on my buy'ce, but there's definite similarities."
"There's some Aurebesh in there too," said Shane, pointing to some other text below Arkaan's fingers.
"You're right. It looks like a mix of the two."
"There's more than just Mando'a and Aurebesh in there," said Marcla from behind them, leaning forward and pointing with a clawed finger to different pieces of text. "There. Rodian text. And there, Huttese. That's Nubian text, and that, that's Sith text."
"Sith text?" asked Shane, looking up at her.
"Old enemies of the Jedi. A lot of my people have worked for them in ancient times, very nasty if you cross them. Why would there be lots of different styles of text?" said Arkaan, frowning and looking at the different consoles around them.
"The Sith text appears to run through all the text," said Shane. "Look. Your old Mandalorian text, followed by some Sith writing, then some Huttese, then some more Sith text."
"He's right."
Marcla had moved towards another console and was crouched in front of it, hands spread on the surface, her eyes darting from one line of text to another. Arkaan stood and looked over her shoulder, nodding to himself.
"What is this?" he whispered to himself. "Why all the different text? And why here?"
"I'm not sure finding the answer will do us any good," said Marcla, standing and turning so she was facing him. "Anything to do with the Sith is something to be avoided or destroyed at the first opportunity."
"No offence, but you're a Jedi. You've sworn to destroy the Sith and have fought them hundreds of times in the past. You wouldn't know the first thing about true Sith and how they operate, so don't give me all the propaganda osik."
"And I suppose you have?"
"Not personally, but do you really think Mandalorians would've worked with them so many times in the past if they were all about destruction and taking over the galaxy?"
"All you Mandalorians care about is credits and glory."
Arkaan smiled at her and bent to retrieve his helmet. He put it back onto his head, tapping the dome and crossed his arms.
"You don't know the first thing about Mandalorians, jetii, so don't even try."
"Maybe I know more than you think," Marcla whispered, getting as close as she could and almost pressing her nose against his visor.
Shane's laughter made the pair of them turn to look at him, and the ARC clapped a hand on both of their shoulders.
"Are you two gonna screw already?" he said, still chuckling as he did so. "Marcla, his kind have been killing yours for millennia, and I know for a fact that he's got several lightsabre trophies that he didn't get by just asking. So I'd take a step back before trying to threaten him or get one up."
"I'm a good cook, too," added Arkaan.
Marcla snorted and took a step back, shaking her head.
"I don't believe any of that for a second," she said quietly as she walked away.
"None of this getting us any closer to figuring out what's going on," said Upchuck, and the trio turned to look at him in surprise. "This place gives me the creeps, and the sooner we're out of here, the better."
Before anyone could reply, the deck beneath their feet rumbled and distant explosions echoed through the walls. The group froze, bracing themselves for another explosion closer to them, but when none came and the other explosions died down, they relaxed.
"What was that?" asked Upchuck quietly.
"Probably those shells going off from earlier," said Arkaan, but they could tell from his voice that he wasn't convinced.
"Where do these cables go?" piped up the other trooper, running his hands over them.
"Good question," said Shane, looking up and following them with his eyes.
The majority of the cables seemed to lead in one direction, both through several different doors and cutting through the walls and floor in the same direction. From all over the engine room, the cables sprouted from the massive engine itself, consoles and workstations and all converged at a point a few meters from their position, before the thick mass of cables led off into the semi-darkness towards open doors and holes in the wall.
Arkaan pointed in the direction the cables were going and stepped in that direction.
"I guess we go this way."