Posted 29/12/2018
RESOLVE II
14.
Garen Muln stared at the bay door in front of him. His eyes held the focus of a born warrior. He would be the first to admit that when it came to lightsaber combat he was quickly outclassed by many of his peers, but put him in a starfighter and he felt like he could not be outmanoeuvred.
The twin ion engines of his Delta hummed in ready anticipation. A dull ache lanced through the leg that had once been so badly broken. It was fully healed, but the injury had left him with a reminder of his own mortality. The phantom ache reared its head when he was under stress, but it did not hinder him. Instead it sharpened his focus and kept him alert. It reminded him of how Master Clee Rhara used to pinch his thigh to try and distract him during training simulations.
"A Jedi cannot allow even the smallest thing to distract them from their task," she had said. "Something as insignificant as a flee bite can make you flinch. For a Jedi even a simple reflex like that can be dangerous. Even more so when piloting a starship."
Garen spared a brief thought to wonder where Obi-Wan and Reeft were stationed, and thanked the Force that Bant was off world. He jerked his thoughts back to the present moment and waited for the docking bay door to open.
He could hear the sound of blaster canons going off on the other side. It would be his job, and his fellow Jedi pilots' job, to secure the airspace around the Temple.
Evacuation, he thought. Never did the thought even cross Garen's mind that they would one day abandon their home. But that day had come, and he was ready to do his part to ensure the Jedi Order's survival.
"Opening the bay doors," the voice of the squad coordinator announced. "Delta-1, you have the lead."
"Copy," Garen said. "May the Force be with us."
The open sky of Coruscant came into view, and Garen cranked the power of his starfighter. The moment he exited the hanger gunships fired upon him, but with the aid of the Force he evaded the blasts with elegant barrel rolls and dives that brought him perilously close to the durasteel surface of the ziggurat.
He banked sharply to the left and brought his starfighter in line with the less manoeuvrable gunships. He pulled the trigger and fired off a burst at the first gunship, destroying both its turrets and its engines. It careened down in a spiral, and crashed with metal's terrible squeal against the outer foundation of the ziggurat.
More starfighters emerged from the docking bays, and soon a full scale air battle was taking place above the Jedi Temple.
Gunships retreated to the air from the landing sites to provide air support for the clone troopers, but the clunky military transports were outclassed by the smaller, more manoeuvrable Jedi starfighters. Barely a minute after Garen and his squad emerged from the hanger the gunships were in full retreat.
"Do we pursue?" One of the pilots asked.
"No," Garen said. "Our mandate is to protect Jedi air space. We will not take this battle to the civilian sector. There will be enough collateral as it is."
"What about the ground troops? It looks like they've breached the ray shields on the main entrance."
Garen turned his starfighter and flew a wide loop around the Temple. True enough, soldiers were marching in. The overwhelmed Temple Guard were retreating inside, deflecting blaster fire as they went. One guard fell, followed by another. Garen clenched his jaw.
"Strafing runs," he said. "Fly low, fire at shallow angles. We don't want to upset the interior structures for those still evacuating."
Garen led the assault, sweeping a wide circle until he was lined up with the marching army. He dropped so low the underside of his starfighter nearly scraped the surface of the ziggurat. He fired off a burst into the army, taking out a chunk of their number and slowing their ascent. One by one his squad followed his line and fired off their own bursts.
The army's ranks were thinning, but not quickly enough. They increased their pace, and many crossed the threshold of the Temple. The starfighters could not reach them there, and the Jedi within would have to stop them.
May the Force be with us all, Garen thought as he swooped low on the other side of the ziggurat, setting up a second strafing run where more companies of white-armoured soldiers were attempting to breach the western entrance.
Ali-Alann had his hands full. It was difficult enough to keep his own serenity in tact as he heard the explosions and felt the tremors, but to add the safety and peace of mind of his gaggle of younglings on top of that seemed an almost insurmountable task. He didn't know what was going on. They had only been told the bare minimum;
The Jedi Temple was under attack, again, and it was time to evacuate.
Ali-Alann felt an uncharacteristic surge of indignation as he tried to understand what sort of being would attack a peacekeeping force. The sheer disbelief he felt that it was the second attack in three days nearly made him sweat his distress, but he called upon his many years of Jedi training, and the patience he developed through decades of raising younglings, to calm himself.
He led the way through the halls to the vast hangerbay of the Jedi Temple. Behind him his younglings obediently walked in two neat lines, holding hands with the child next to them. A set of padawans brought up the rear to make sure no one wandered off.
It was sheer madness, but Ali-Alann did not allow his discontent to broadcast. The younglings were broadcasting enough fear and uncertainty to sully whatever calm they may have held before. No, the Jedi Master would not add to the inner struggles of the children. He was supposed to be a pillar of strength for them, and that's what he would be. He released a calming breath, and with it went his anxieties.
"We're almost there, younglings," Ali-Alann spoke with a kind tone.
They entered the hanger, being careful to stay out of the path of the Jedi and Temple workers who were rushing to get ships supplied and fuelled. Ali-Alann spotted master Yoda talking to a technician near the largest transport vessel the Jedi owned. It was an enormous freighter that could house a thousand. In a pinch it could probably accommodate double that amount.
The trouble was that the freighter was older than Master Yoda himself.
It came from a different time. A time when the Jedi had been forced to relocate. Much as we are now, Ali-Alann thought as he recalled the story of why the Jedi had kept the relic. It served as a piece of Jedi History, but the technicians never allowed it to fall into disrepair, and over the years they had kept the ship in working condition. If rumours were true, they had even given it a few upgrades. Ali-Alann hoped the old ship would carry them all to safety.
"Welcome, younglings," Master Yoda said when they reached him. He leaned against his gimer stick, off to the side of the boarding ramp. "Your first starship journey this will be. A large ship this is. Listen to your master, and wander off you must not."
"Yes, Master Yoda," the younglings chorused. Ali-Alann spared Yoda a brief nod, then led the way aboard the old freighter. A technician led them down several corridors before they reached a compartment that held twelve bunks.
"Double up and pick a bunk," he said. The padawans stood by the doorway, looking antsy. He could not blame them. They could all still hear the distant, muffled sound of canon fire. They could still feel the reverberations travelling through the permacrete and durasteel. The ones who were sensitive enough could also feel the dwindling of life outside the Temple. That dwindling had crept its way past the threshold and was now within the Temple as well.
The younglings started whispering among themselves, and through the soft murmuring Ali-Alann heard a sniffle, then a high-pitched hiccup. He moved to the corner of the room where a small girl was tucked between a bulkhead and a bunk. "Talsi?" He crouched down near her. She was facing the wall. Ali-Alann reached a hand forward and touched her small shoulder. The six year old girl seemed to shrink in on herself at his touch. "Come here child," he gently tried to coax. "Tell me what's wrong."
Ever so slowly Talsi's shoulders relaxed and she lifted her head. Then she pulled herself to her feet and turned around. Ali-Alann waited for her to come to him. When she did she fell into his arms and hid her face in his shoulder. She was still hiccuping, and he could feel his tunic soak through with her tears.
"What's wrong, dear?" Ali-Alann asked again. The other younglings watched on with apprehensive fascination, their tiny brows scrunched in lines of sympathy and confusion.
"He won't come with us," she sniffled.
"Who?" Ali-Alann asked. His heart sank. The girl was prone to precognitive visions, and while Master Yoda would forever preach that the future was always in motion, Talsi had an uncanny knack for getting it right.
"The nice master who protected us from the bad droids," Talsi said, her face scrunching up again as more tears came.
"Master Obi-Wan?" Ali-Alann asked, his heart sinking.
"Yes," Talsi said. "They all look the same and there's too many and he's hurt."
The old crèche master had once raised Obi-Wan Kenobi from toddler to initiate. He could still see the bright-eyed, dimpled little face in his mind's eye. Obi-Wan the boy had also been prone to precognitive visions, but he'd never had to deal with anything as dire as Talsi's proclamation. The worst one he remembered from Obi-Wan was when, as a five year old, he came barrelling into his sleep quarters, shaking him awake and talking a mile a minute about the red demon with the yellow eyes. Obi-Wan hadn't cried. No, he'd looked thoroughly determined. As though he was ready to fight an army of yellow-eyed demons. He'd had a tough time trying to calm the boy down enough to sleep, and in the end he had to resort to the use of a Force-suggestion.
If Talsi's sight proved true it wouldn't be the first time Ali-Alann had outlived a child he'd raised. But he knew it would hurt no less than all the others.
The wide atrium beyond the threshold of the Jedi Temple's main entrance held a plantation of pillars, pock-marked now by blaster fire. Jedi darted out from behind the thick cover to cut down soldiers, but wide as the space was it was only a matter of time before the Jedi were overrun by the superior number of clones. They were already beginning to flank the sides.
Obi-Wan was the first to notice. "Fall back to the concourse!" He yelled. "We'll set up a barricade in the choke!" He kept his back to the retreating Jedi, covering their escape with his skills of Soresu mastery. Growing bolder the clones began rushing for better position, heedless of Obi-Wan's expert deflections. Many clones fell, but many more drew closer. A young knight was hit by a volley from one of the flanks. Obi-Wan took one step towards his Jedi brother, felt the life leave the young man, then instead took a step towards the narrow entrance to the concourse.
He spared a fraction of a second to grieve the loss, but there was no time to gather the bodies of the fallen for a ritual farewell. Obi-Wan stayed rooted in the moment. The past mattered not. The future mattered not. All the mattered was the task at hand. When the last Jedi reached the cover provided by the concourse Obi-Wan enhanced his speed with the Force and darted through to safety as well.
"Help me bring down the overhang," Obi-Wan said as he stowed his lightsaber, and with the Force began tugging at the durasteel and permacrete that formed the enormous structure over the doorway. His fellow Jedi immediately assisted him, and with a terrible roar the metal and stone crashed down, sealing the doorway with a field of debris.
"How long do you think that will hold them, Master Kenobi?" One of the masked Temple Guards asked.
"It depends on what kind of ordinance they have with them," Obi-Wan said. "I expect they'll have thermal detonators, which means we've bought ourselves minutes at best." As if to emphasize the point an ear-splitting crack sounded from behind the debris. They felt the vibrations travel through their bones, and watched as dust particles were shot inwards towards them from the concussive force of the blast. "We need to move."
Led by Obi-Wan the group of Jedi Knights and Temple Guards jogged through the familiar corridors deeper into the temple. They reached the foundation of the massive Tranquility Spire in time to see Jocasta Nu argue with two Jedi Masters.
"We must go, Master Nu," the Teevan Jedi said. Obi-Wan recognised him as Master Simo Pelsum. He wasn't overly familiar with him, but he knew enough to know the man was a capable and insightful Jedi.
"What's the problem?" Obi-Wan asked.
Master Pelsum opened his mouth to answer, but Jocasta took a determined step towards Obi-Wan and raised her voice with a stern determination to be heard. "The holocrons!" She said, expecting them to understand the urgency of those two simple words. "The artefacts! Not all have been collected from the archival vault."
"Master Nu," Obi-Wan said. "There is little time. The longer we linger the more lives will be lost."
"The knowledge in those holocrons are irreplaceable, Master Kenobi," Jocasta almost pleaded. "If we lose it all we'll lose a piece of the Jedi Order's identity!"
"But the Order will survive," Obi-Wan said. "Change is an inevitable part of life. Master Pelsum is right. . . We must go."
"It's not just the history and philosophies," Jocasta tried again. "If we leave those holocrons and artefacts behind and they're found by the wrong people we'll have more trouble on our hands than simple lost knowledge."
"Then we must destroy them," Master Pelsum said.
"What?" Jocasta turned to him, absolutely aghast. "Some of those artefacts are millennia old!"
Obi-Wan was torn. Master Nu had a point. Ancient knowledge could prove to be the difference in the battles that lay ahead. Yet, time was not on their side.
"We'll take only what we can carry," Obi-Wan said.
"We have no time, Kenobi," Master Pelsum stressed.
"I understand," Obi-Wan said, then gently took Jocasta by the elbow and guided her inside the archives. He turned his head to address the Jedi gathered there, and said, "Those of you willing to play pack-mule follow me. The rest of you head to the evacuation ships or find a position to fortify."
Master Pelsum sighed, but followed after Obi-Wan. The Temple Guards stayed outside the archives, vigilant, waiting. The other Jedi followed behind the three masters.
Upon reaching the vault Jocasta was quick to open it. "Point out only the artefacts you deem most important, Master Nu," Obi-Wan said.
"Yes, yes," she said, impatient as she began loading artefacts onto a small repulsor sledge. "Time is of the essence, I know. Here, take this."
Jocasta handed a pyramid shaped holocron to Obi-Wan. It's size forced him to cradle it in his arms, but to his surprise it wasn't particularly heavy. Intricate spirals adorned the triangular sides, blending together at the apex. Obi-Wan had no time to ponder the mysteries of the object, or any of the other artefacts being loaded onto the repulsor sledge, so he simply placed it in a secure spot and moved towards the exit of the archives. Master Pelsum followed him while the other Jedi stayed to help Jocasta Nu.
Obi-Wan walked past the Temple Guards and turned the corner to face the collapsed doorway to the atrium. Dust and debris flew from the pile as explosive charges detonated on the other side. The barrier was dwindling quickly.
"We're taking too great a risk," Master Pelsum said. "We need to get to the evacuation ships."
"We also need to prevent that army from advancing," Obi-Wan said, looking around him, searching for anything he could use to hinder the soldiers' movement.
A colossal tremor pounded through that section of the Temple then. A spiderweb of cracks travelled along the walls. Obi-Wan flinched as the cracks caused debris to splinter into his face. He shook his head, clearing the dust that clung to his eyelashes. Had he not been blessed with the precognitive sense that allowed all Jedi such quick reflexes, he wouldn't have had time to brace himself. But his Force-sensitivity and Jedi training allowed him to stay on his feet, despite the rattling that caused durasteel and permacrete to groan against the abuse.
"Time's up," Master Pelsum said, urgency now leaking into his voice. He turned on his heel and sped away towards the Archives.
"I concur," Obi-Wan said, sparing one last glance at the cloud of dust that now lingered where the doorway to the Atrium once arched. He raced after Master Pelsum and tightly grasped his lightsaber in his right hand.
"Master Nu, we have no more time!" Master Pelsum bellowed as soon as he turned into the great halls of the Archives. "They've broken through, we must leave at once."
Obi-Wan stopped near the entrance of the Archives, and took up a position beside the Temple Guard. The swirling dust leaked into the hall, as though announcing the imminent arrival of the marching army. He took note of the Jedi pushing repulsor sledges, and others who carried various obscure items in their arms. Master Nu exited behind them, looking dismayed, as though her world had just fallen apart. But the expression lasted only a fraction of second before she steeled herself and followed the precious holocrons, artefacts, and tomes to the evacuation ships.
"Let's not linger, Master Kenobi," Master Pelsum said as he touched a gentle, but urgent hand to the younger master's shoulder.
"We need to buy more time," Obi-Wan said.
"With respect, masters," one of the masked guards stepped out of his defensive position to address both Obi-Wan and Master Pelsum. "This is the duty of the Temple Guard. You both must make your way to the ships. If the Jedi Order is to survive and rebuild, it will need the experience of Masters like yourselves."
Obi-Wan was still reluctant. It was not in his nature to leave others to fight battles he also had a stake in. But he could not dishonour the Temple Guard's courage by staying. They stood ready to meet death and rejoin the Force, all so the Jedi Order would survive.
Maybe his experience did mean something, but he did not feel more worthy of surviving than any of the masked guards standing before him.
With a strangled breath Obi-Wan conceded to the wisdom of the Guard. "Force be with you all," he said, then turned and followed after Master Pelsum.
They quickly caught up to Master Nu and the Jedi transporting the archival items. The group quickly navigated through the intricate hallways of the Temple, taking the shortest possible route to the vast hanger section of the ziggurat. Cutting through narrow service corridors saved them significant travel distance, but they had to go down them single file. Obi-Wan estimated another minute and they would reach the evacuation area.
He dropped to the back of the pack to make sure that no one would get left behind, when a sudden power surge caused the lights to flicker. A violent boom echoed down the narrow corridor moments before a section of the wall exploded inwards where the group had passed by only moments before. Obi-Wan took up a defensive position between the group and the newly made hole.
A figure covered from head to toe in dust and debris stumbled through the hole, heaving violent, wet-sounding coughs. Obi-Wan recognised the Togrutan and rushed forward in time to prevent the younger man from falling face first on the permacrete.
"Boko," Obi-Wan said, alarmed to see how bloodied his teeth were. The Togrutan was clearly in bad shape.
"Master Kenobi," Boko said. The young knight was trying to bravely push his injury aside, but mortal bodies could only handle so much, even with the Force. As he tried to push himself from his knees to his feet all he managed was a pained grunt and a cough.
Obi-Wan supported him with an arm snaking beneath Boko's arm and around his back. "Easy, Boko," Obi-Wan said. He took note of the bloody stains on Boko's tunics.
"No, master," Boko heaved. "They're coming."
Obi-Wan turned his head and saw Master Pelsum and another Jedi approach. "He needs a healer," he said, and indicated for them to take him. "I'll hold the corridor, Master Pelsum. Get everyone out."
"Kenobi," Master Pelsum hesitated.
"No time for debate, I'm afraid," Obi-Wan grinned as he handed the injured Togrutan knight over to Master Pelsum. He walked towards the gaping hole, lightsaber ready in his hand. He stopped and listened. He could hear the tap-tap-tap of the soldier's plastoid armour against the polished floors.
A grenade came sailing through the opening. Obi-Wan caught it with the Force and sent it back out blindly. The explosion shook more dust from the debris mound, and summoned pained cries from those caught in the blast radius.
Obi-Wan turned his head once more towards Master Pelsum. The older man held fast to the injured knight, but he still regarded Obi-Wan with a significant look. "Go," Obi-Wan almost pleaded. Ahead he could see Master Nu and the other Jedi disappear around the final bend. He met Master Pelsum's eyes again. It seemed as though the older man wanted to say a great many things, but was stopping himself from doing so. Obi-Wan was thankful for that.
"The Force is with you," Master Peslum finally said, then turned away from Obi-Wan and helped the injured Togrutan down the corridor at a hurried pace.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and waited.
The soldiers were being more careful now, weary of their own ordinance being flung back at them. But the sound of their plastoid armour gave them away. Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and cleanly severed the head of the first soldier to step through the hole. The others paused and retreated.
A moment passed, then another. Obi-Wan couldn't hear the soldiers discuss anything, but knew they probably had internal comms in the helmets they wore. A sharp warning in the Force spurred Obi-Wan to leap backwards just in time to avoid the concussive blast and flying shrapnel resulting from the wall being blown to pieces.
The soldiers seemed to know better than to enter an enclosed space with a Jedi, and were attempting to blow him to pieces without getting near him, or even getting a visual on him. They were taking pot shots.
"Blast," Obi-Wan whispered as he ducked out of the way of yet another pounding explosion. So much for holding that line, he thought. Time to get out of here.
He sprinted down the service corridor, but instead of turning left to go to the hanger where the evacuation ships were, he turned right and exited the passage into the hallway leading to the ship maintenance bays. Around the corner he could see the soldiers advancing. The one in the lead, his armour marked with blue, held a holomap above his hand. The quick glance told Obi-Wan all he needed to know; The soldiers had a detailed map of the Temple, and were advancing towards the hanger level.
Obi-Wan could still sense the thousands of Jedi gathered in the hangers. Why have they not yet left? He wondered.
Resolved to not let the soldiers reach the evacuation ships, Obi-Wan stepped out from behind his cover and ignited his lightsaber. He was but one man, and the soldiers had blasters a plenty, not to mention the explosive charges and grenades they carried. He spotted a few who even wielded devastating plasmatech canons.
The captain, as Obi-Wan identified the map-wielding soldier, signalled his troops to halt.
"Turn back," Obi-Wan said, his voice carrying strongly in the wide hallway.
In answer the soldiers open fired. Obi-Wan called upon every minute of training he'd ever endured and batted the bolts away as though they were nothing but the harmless training lasers of the salle droids.
But this was no training exercise. Thoughts of the past, thoughts of the future, even thoughts of the present fled from Obi-Wan's mind. There was only the battle. He didn't think about where Anakin might be, and he didn't wonder if Siri and Ferus made it onto a ship. He didn't stop to think about Garen's efforts to safeguard the airspace. He didn't think about where the Jedi would even flee to.
There was only this hallway, these soldiers, and this moment.
Obi-Wan would not let them get past him.
A/N: The final chapter of book 2 will be posted on the weekend of January 5th, 2019.