Custodian
Korba had devoted a great deal of time to his mission, self-appointed as it was. He had sifted through hundreds of records, sorted through archives and ISB documentation, all in the effort to find the means of preserving the Empire, some way to give them an edge over their foes. News of the Emperor's death had surprised him, as it had many others within the Empire, but unlike some Korba had not seen it as the beginning of the end. The end of an old order, certainly, but the beginning of something new. All he needed was the support, and the more of it he gained the more of it would become open to him. A snowball effect, one that he surmised had only just started in earnest.
If he could find the weapons that the Emperor had secreted away here, above the forested world of Phindar, then he could unify the Empire, return it to the way it should be. No more infighting, no more wasting resources on pointless battles that lead to major losses of personnel and materiel.
This was the dream Korba had, the one he had had for many years. He had seen himself as becoming one of the inner circle, with the likes of Palpatine and Vader, but after Endor that inner circle was almost gone. He would simply have to make a new one, for a new Empire. And if all else failed, surely he could pave the way for his successors to begin anew? He had to leave something behind. That was one thing his adoptive father had spoken to him about, more than once. It was one thing to die for a cause you believed in, but the death itself would be meaningless if you did not leave some kind of legacy behind. Many left children, yet that did not strike Korba as an option. He was not human, and most of his compatriots were. Nor did he feel like ever returning to his home-world, as his own species were unlikely to recognise him, and he certainly would not recognise them. He needed to make his mark in the name of the way of life he had lived for so long.
So far, things had not gone smoothly. Without a functioning hyperdrive, he would be forced to waste precious time having it repaired. Worst scenario, he would have to call for help from Belsmuth II, and in turn potentially expose his findings to other, rival officers. None of the people in charge there were ones he trusted. Asking them for help would be an embarrassment, especially after his display in the conference room at the Academy. Killing Raka had been satisfying and certainly brave, but his decisive action would only be undermined if he called the likes of Severetti for assistance.
He made his way for the command centre of the orbital station, with Lyssa taking point. Behind him, he was followed by four stormtroopers. They moved carefully, now that they had come face-to-face with the resident security. Sentry droids were tough, if a little stupid, and Korba did not intend on dying to some glorified tin can.
RA-5E was at the back of their little group, doing his best to keep his metal head down. So far, he stood out perhaps a little more than Korba would have liked. Still, there was not much else that could be done, as the droid was needed to access the computers here. If they were as well-secured as Korba suspected them to be, then a protocol droid would be very useful. Something told him that even his ISB credentials would not grant him full access to whatever interesting information had been left behind here, if any. Part of him knew that it was likely the computers had been purged, prior to the evacuation of personnel. Still, he had to hold out hope that something would be gained from this near-misadventure.
They came to an open bulkhead that lead past a set of living quarters. Again, the place seemed quiet. Korba knew better than to take this at face value, as did Lyssa. She raised her closed fist, a signal to halt, and he and the stormtroopers behind him did so. Waiting by the open bulkhead, Korba watched as Lyssa moved ahead, rifle raised at the ready. She crept forwards cautiously, checking the doors she passed, making sure nothing was waiting to ambush them from inside one of the living quarters. Korba watched her armoured form travel down the hall some distance, with the occasional glance going back down the way they had come. He tried to estimate just how many sentry droids a place like this would have, but it was impossible to tell. The secrecy of this station suggested more than average, yet so far they had only run into two of them.
The general layout of such places was much the same throughout the Empire. As such, Korba was confident that they were near the command centre. He was expecting to meet further resistance, as it was apparent that they were being watched. Maybe it was simply a security computer, carrying out its last set of instructions. Yet the way in which some of the surveillance cameras had tracked them as they had moved suggested more than a mere security system at work.
A now familiar set of rapid clanking noises began to echo down the corridor, and Lyssa began to back away down the slightly curved lane. Korba did not need to see what was coming to know what it was, and Lyssa's next words confirmed it.
"Three sentry droids, coming right for us," she said, as she made her way back for the group. As she rounded the bulkhead's doorway, the three droids in question appeared, walking side-by-side, weapons raised. They advanced straight for the squad, and in turn the squad opened fire. A hail of blaster-fire filled the corridor, red bolts flying both ways as the droids continued to march for the group. Korba took careful aim at one of the droids before firing, the bolt from his pistol hitting the droid in the visor. The red visor smashed, and at least one optic vanished in a flash of flame and trail of smoke. Nonetheless, the sentry droid kept coming, working off of a rudimentary intelligence that denied it the usual amount of self-preservation. At best, these droids were intended to fight off pirates and small groups of insurgents, not so much an organized squad of heavily armed stormtroopers. As such, the concentrated fire from the squad brought one of the droids down into a smouldering heap, with the other two coming to a halt before they poured on the return fire.
Korba ducked around the doorway, with Lyssa on the opposite side, as blaster bolts scorched the metal on the other side. He felt a faint spray of molten metal on his sleeve, as a few miniscule blobs flicked off of the edge of the doorway. They sizzled on his uniform, but small as they were the burning sensation was minor and lasted only for several seconds. There would be a few slight burns on his arm, but nothing serious. His scaly skin had a somewhat higher tolerance for heat than anything on a human.
One of the stormtroopers crouched to his right was gunned down, several holes blasted through his armour. Korba leaned around the doorway and resumed firing, planting several shots into one of the other sentry droids, as did Lyssa and the stormtroopers. Bits were blown off of its armour, sparks flying, smoke wafting out of the holes. Lyssa focused her fire on its left leg, the rapid volley of bolts burning through its knee joint. The bottom half of the droid's leg came away, and the whole thing fell, clanking loudly upon the glazed floor.
"Give them a grenade, Commander." Korba glanced to Lyssa, who nodded her head in acknowledgement of the request. She pulled her second and last grenade from her waist belt, before she under-armed it towards the two droids. It bounced low along the floor, going to the right of the damaged droid. Both Korba and Lyssa turned away from the site of the imminent explosion, with the sudden roar of it filling the confines of the hall. It was practically deafening, yet the loud crash was over in a second. Smoke and fire filled the corridor, panelling having been blown off of the walls. Sparks zapped out of a broken light fitting, and the two droids had been reduced to smoking wrecks.
The fight over, Korba and Lyssa emerged from cover, the stormtroopers behind them following suit. Lyssa started ahead, briefly checking the trio of fallen droids before signalling for the others to follow. Behind him, Korba heard RA-5E's metal feet clanking lightly behind him. He seemed to look at the destroyed droids with curiosity, if the way he tilted his head down at them was anything to go by.
"What morons," he said, more to himself than anyone else.
They were nearing the command centre now. The doors to it were at the end of the slightly curved corridor, and they followed the bend all the way to the end. With the way the station was constructed, the curving corridors were to be expected, as all sections were situated around a central circular hemisphere. The door into the command centre was locked shut, and Korba was the first to try the control panel. He used his specialised ISB master key, but he was surprised to see that the slot for it had been fused shut. Someone would have had to have done this from the outside, yet clearly someone was behind this door, working the station's defences. Why would anyone lock themselves into the command centre, with no real way of escape?
"Any way inside?" Lyssa walked up beside him. Korba looked to her and shook his head.
"Not through this panel," Korba replied. "We may need to use less orthodox means." He turned to the three stormtroopers standing nearby. "You three, pool your explosives. We'll blow it open."
As ordered, the three stormtroopers pulled out what grenades and other explosives they were carrying. These amounted to six fragmentation grenades, two satchel charges and an incendiary device. Korba bundled these items into his arms, passing some off to Lyssa once it became a little too awkward.
"Put the incendiary bomb in the centre," he instructed. "Use the magnetic function to stick it on the door." Lyssa already had started to work in this regard, as she no doubt had plenty of experience in the use of explosives. With the incendiary bomb in the centre of the door, looking little more than a large metal disc, Korba promptly arranged the other items around it. Each one stuck upon the door magnetically. After this impromptu patchwork of explosives was done, Korba, Lyssa and the others backed off partway down the corridor. Korba noticed another surveillance camera, this one situated over the door, its lens tracking their movements noticeably. Whoever was watching them was about to be in for a rude surprise.
Korba crouched behind a metal container, with Lyssa by his side. The stormtroopers placed themselves nearby, two within a droid maintenance alcove and another behind a dispenser a little further behind. Korba glanced to Lyssa, who held her E-11 rifle at the ready.
"We've wasted enough time already," he said. "Do what you need to."
Lyssa peered over the crate, setting her rifle down upon it and taking aim at the central explosive. Her aim was true, as Korba expected it to be, and the single shot she fired hit home. The whole room was suddenly filled with a booming roar, smoke and fire rushing down the corridor for several metres. Lyssa ducked behind the crate and pieces of the door went flying past them, and the smell of smouldering metal hit Korba's nostrils suddenly. Mingled with the smell of burning chemicals, the smoke wafted over them before fading somewhat. As it cleared, Korba rose to his feet, looking towards what remained of the bulkhead. A large hole had been blown through the centre of it, and the corridor before had had much of its panelling blown away. Cables hung from exposed sections of the ceiling, and a rush of white smoke plumed from a part of the wall that had taken some of the blast. The room beyond, from what Korba could see through the haze, had been strewn with debris.
Lyssa and the troopers marched ahead of him, leading the way into the heart of the space station. Nonetheless, Korba found his feet carried him swiftly, and he entered the room alongside Lyssa, her keen eyes surveying the partially damaged chamber through her visor.
The room was like most Imperial control rooms, with terminals arranged in slight semi-circular setups, and a main view-port at one end that looked out upon part of the station. At the moment, the metal blast shields were closed over the large window, and many of the terminals were inactive. At the far side of the large, circular room stood a figure with a tall, if somewhat slim, frame. Only partially visible in the dim lighting, shrouded in the smoke from the explosion, Korba could not properly judge just who or what he was seeing. Raising his pistol, he marched ahead of Lyssa, determined to confront whoever had been attempting to hinder their progress here.
"You there! Show yourself!" Korba stopped about halfway across the control centre, and as the haze diminished he began to get a much clearer picture of the figure in shadow. Much taller than any average human, it stepped forwards, finally entering the light cast from one of the fittings above. It was another droid, unlike the sentry droids, with slim, long arms and legs and a wide, bulky torso. A pair of white optics glared at Korba over the several metres between them.
He realised then that he was looking at a KX-series security droid. Of course, 'security' was a somewhat broad term. 'Enforcer' was more appropriate, if the model's reputation was accurate. Having no qualms about harming organics who got in the way of their assigned tasks, it was no surprise that a KX-series was behind all the trouble he and the team had faced up to this point. He kept his gun trained on it, as did Lyssa. A droid like this could not be trusted, and it was likely to be armed.
"You're the one responsible for security here, aren't you?" Korba spoke in a level voice. The droid continued to watch him, its features unreadable.
"That is correct." The droid spoke in clipped tones not dissimilar to those that RA-5E used. "You are Major Korba, of the Imperial Security Bureau."
"You know me?"
"I identified you through the surveillance cameras," the droid said. "Of course, since you are not cleared for entry to this facility, I had to take action against you. The same goes for your ship, which was registered to an altogether different commander, also not cleared for entry to this facility."
"We're on your side, droid."
"Regardless of whether or not that is the case, I had very specific instructions concerning how those without authorisation should be dealt with," the droid explained.
"Do you have a name?"
"My designation is K-72B," the droid said. "I was left custodian of this installation. A construction facility, as you are no doubt aware. I took the liberty of viewing your record in the databanks here, major. You have a reputation of being loyal, to a fault. Nonetheless, I will be forced to kill you for your unauthorised intrusion here, one way or another."
"And if I kill you?"
"Irrelevant. The sentry droids here will still act on their programming. Killing me will not change that."
At that moment, RA-5E stepped forwards. Both droids regarded each other carefully, as if preparing to engage in a fight. Neither of them moved for a moment, before the KX-model spoke.
"An outdated Imperial droid. How quaint." K-72B sounded almost amused. "Here to hack my computers, are you?"
"They are not 'your' computers," RA-5E countered. "They are the property of the Empire, and all of us are of the Empire here. Major Korba came a long way to find this place."
"It may not have been worth it." This statement caused Korba to frown, and for a fleeting moment there he thought he felt the first pang of fear. Surely the droid had to be lying, if only to protect the secrets it had been left here to remain in guard of? He had not come all this way for nothing, surely?
"The Emperor had a project here," Korba said, as he composed himself. "It was one of several secret facilities he had, from what I understand. I have simply come to make use of the weapons that were being made here, in order to turn the tide of the war back into our favour. Have you been following what has been happening, in the outside galaxy?" He took a step towards the droid, making eye contact with it. The droid watched him impassively, its mask of a face impossible to read. "Are you aware that the Emperor is dead?"
"I suspected it." K-72B did not sound very concerned. In fact, it sounded as if he did not care at all. "The personnel here evacuated suddenly. They left me behind to look after the place and to guard it from all unauthorized outsiders. They would return at some point, or at least that is what I was told. It has been months since that occurred, and I have simply remained here to carry out my instructions. I have always prided myself on following orders."
"As any good soldier should," Korba stated. "These personnel, how many were there and when did they leave?"
"A dozen at most, plus a small stormtrooper contingent. One-hundred and thirty-two days have passed since they evacuated. You are the latest visitors to come here."
As he spoke, RA-5E walked over to one of the central terminals. With one hand, he twisted the cap off of a finger on the other hand, revealing a small interface key that he slid into a socket at the terminal. K-72B saw this and was about to make a move for him when Korba raised his gun and pointed it at him. The Major hoped the look on his face said enough as to what would happen if the droid pushed the point.
"Stay right there," he ordered. "My droid is going to sift through what information is present on your computers. That means no interference from you."
"That is not in accordance with my instructions," K-72B stated.
"What did the personnel here do? What were they building?" He frowned then, and he spoke the one question that had been on his mind since he had arrived here: "What did they build?"
"That is why you have come, isn't it? To take whatever they made for your own use. I know all about you, Major. Your records say that you're as ambitious as they come, always out to find a way to put yourself above your rivals. And yet you are loyal almost to a fault, despite your non-human nature. I find it curious, if you do not mind me saying so, that something like you got as far as he did. All because of a series of circumstances that are unlikely to ever be duplicated. Had your parents not met their ends in that shuttle accident, then no Imperial patrol would have found you. In turn, you would have been raised as one of your own, and the Empire would be little more than a rumour to you and the rest of your insular species." The droid spoke in an even voice, yet the more it said, the more agitated Korba became. "You're practically human, Major. Raised by humans, taught by humans, have you ever wondered what you would have become had you not been found by the Empire? I have already played out numerous possible scenarios in my subroutines. Perhaps you would like details of them?"
"No, I really wouldn't." Korba did his best to ignore the droid's increasingly piercing words. It had him all figured out, and all because it had gone through his records as soon as it had identified him on the surveillance cameras. All in less than an hour. It was the kind of thing that made Korba hate droids, more so than he already did.
"You must have gone through much to find this place," the droid continued. "The location of this place was secret to only the highest levels of office. Yet, in the end, the secrecy amounted to very little. In fact, I would say that it has perhaps elevated its apparent value. You believed you would find something tremendous here, perhaps another Death Star waiting in orbit?" The droid sounded amused, yet surely that was simply Korba's perception of its voice? It spoke in the same robotic monotone; how could it possibly be mocking him?
"It was indeed a secret research facility," the droid said. "A place where some of the Empire's greatest minds met to collaborate on a variety of projects. Designs were made, plans were drawn up, but in the end, nothing these scientists and engineers thought of ever came to fruition."
"There was supposed to be a super-laser here," Korba said. "Scaled down, with the capacity to be fitted upon a Super Star Destroyer? Is that not here? Is that not what one of these projects was about?"
"It was the most recent one," the droid explained. It remained still as it spoke, all the while RA-5E began to sift through the data that went scrolling down the terminal monitor before him. "It was intended to become the flagship of the Imperial Navy. A vessel with the capacity to obliterate entire fleets with its advanced super-laser, utilising an advanced form of energy known simply as the 'quintessence' that could literally draw power from the stars themselves. Unfortunately, Major, you came here expecting to find a finished ship. Your hopes were perhaps unrealistically high, in this case."
The Huscol Corporation had been researching this unheard form of energy, Korba realised. He also realised, as he stood and listened to the droid, that he had perhaps hinged too much of his hopes upon this suspected special project. Indeed, he had hoped to see a finished Star Destroyer waiting for him in orbit, perhaps with a crew ready to man it. Instead, he had simply found an orbital laboratory populated only with droids who had tried to kill him.
He glanced over to Lyssa, who had since lowered her rifle, her gaze set on the droid with the occasional glance back to the damaged door they had blasted through. Alert as always, she stood watch with the other troopers, allowing Korba a comfortable amount of space to learn the truth from this droid.
"Concepts were made of it, a 'Project Eclipse' as it came to be known. But nothing was ever started construction-wise, and before any genuine plans could be made the Emperor's death occurred and the evacuation was ordered. An automated signal, I suspect, delivered from Coruscant, but with very specific instructions as to how the facility should be left." K-27B tilted its head then, as if mocking him. "You came all this way, Major, only to find nothing."
"Do you not care about the Empire?" Korba finally snapped, as the realisation hit him hard. He had gone through so much, scoured entire worlds for clues as to anything that might help them, and finally he had been lead here. The be-all-end-all of his intentions, the one place that might have supplied what they needed. Ship or not, super-laser or not, he had expected to find something that he could use to unite the Empire.
"What am I saying? Of course you don't," Korba added, practically snarling the words. "You're just a droid with a set of instructions and programming to follow. What does it matter to you, that our entire way of life is crumbling down around us? We need a strong leader, to unite us, and we need something to rally behind. Something that could show the others that we can turn this way around, back in our favour. Maybe my hopes were unrealistically high, but at least I tried. And very few can say the same." He paused, and at that moment a thought occurred to him. "Why tell me all this? Is it a trick? A way to throw me off? Or do you simply delight in taunting me?" He thought perhaps it may be the latter, even if part of him wanted the whole thing to be some kind of elaborate ruse.
"I'm telling you all because none of you are likely to leave here alive," the droid replied. As he said this, he opened a panel on his torso, and from within he pulled a grenade. Korba went to shoot him, but something stopped him then, as the droid held the grenade out in its palm, as if pondering what to do with it. "The self-destruct for this facility is keyed directly into my energy signature. I die, and the destruct initiates. I have contemplated my own death ever since I was left alone here, to guard an empty facility. At least now I can die knowing I tried to the best of my ability. A noble death, wouldn't you say?"
"Don't do it," Korba barked. He could hardly believe that he now wanted the droid to stay alive, but if what it was saying was true, then it committing suicide would be the worst thing to happen. At the same time, death struck him as the easiest option here. To come all this way for nothing, it was humiliating. All the more so when he got back to Belsmuth II. So why not end it here, finally relieve himself of the burden he had carried for all this time? The weight of the Empire on his shoulders, a weight he had placed upon himself because he had made the mistake of caring too much. He glanced to Lyssa, the one woman who might have been able to make him feel better, yet this lapse gave the droid all the opportunity it needed to finally meet the 'noble' end it wanted.
With a flick of a finger, it armed the grenade. RA-5E ducked then, seeing what was about to happen. Lyssa raised her rifle, hitting the droid with a volley. Holes seared their way through its torso plating, before it stumbled backways a few steps, its rear hitting a terminal. Nonetheless, it remained mostly standing, grenade in hand as the timer on it beeped quietly. Korba saw this and hit the deck, as did Lyssa and the other troopers.
The explosion was deafening within the confines of the command centre. A rush of heat and air struck Korba, knocking him onto his side. Pieces of the droid shot out everywhere, a sharp shard embedding itself in the floor near Korba. His ears ringing, he slowly rose to his feet, now aware of a much louder beeping noise. The computer terminals around him, albeit the ones that were still intact after the blast, had all been taken up with the same mostly green image. A timer was in the centre of it, ticking down second-by-second as Korba tried to regain his senses. Lyssa was a short distance behind him, barking orders to the stormtroopers, before her attention shifted to him.
"Major, we have to leave!" She was yelling at him, at first sounding much like a drill sergeant. However, as she repeated herself, a genuine tone of concern found its way into her voice, all the while Korba stared ahead at the spot where the droid had been standing. It was gone now, replaced with a smouldering mark on the floor. "Major, come on! We have to go!"
He did not want to. Not now, not empty-handed. He felt a gauntleted hand fall upon his shoulder. Lyssa again, and this time she lowered her voice so that only he could hear her.
"Please, Korba. We have to leave."
He knew then that he did feel for her. Even if he had seduced her with the help of his natural pheromones, he realised now that he felt something far more than physical attraction for this confident, determined soldier. The only Scout Trooper he knew, and the best one by far. He turned to her, the seconds ticking by on the monitors as the space-station counted down to its destruction. She still had her helmet on, although he thought he could see the worry in her eyes through that black visor of hers. Not just the worry, but the care as well.
"Yes, so we should." He glanced at the nearest monitor. They had just under five minutes. Hardly enough time to get back to the hangar. "There must be an airlock close by."
RA-5E, who was already nearing the door, turned his head when he heard this.
"There is, Major. It's a service corridor, in the adjoining section." RA-5E, in his droid wisdom, had gone ahead and downloaded schematics of the entire station.
Korba brought out his comm-link, as he started for the door. Lyssa followed, red lights flashing all around as every terminal about the place displayed the ever-decreasing counter. Korba got through to the shuttle pilot, who was still waiting in the hangar.
"Pilot, there's an airlock not far from the command centre. I need you to leave the hangar and dock with it. RA-5E will transmit you the exact location. Make it quick, as we have about four minutes before this whole station explodes." The pilot certainly got the message, and Korba picked up the pace. Any thought of dying here had left him now, and all he had to do to find the reason why was glance at the Scout Trooper on his left, who moved assuredly through the grey corridors of the station.
They met with no sentry droids on the way to the airlock. Apparently the KX-droid's suicide had shut them down, leaving Korba and the squad with a relatively clear run to the airlock, situated in a maintenance corridor. The shuttle arrived right as they did, and after a tense minute or so as it docked, the group piled in and the shuttle sped away from the doomed orbital station. They cut it close, as Korba had expected them to, and he was able to watch the station explode from a small viewing porthole within the side of the shuttle. The whole thing happened in silence, the station's centre going up first, with the command centre and surrounding sections turning into flame and debris. The other parts detonated separately, one after the other, as carefully placed charges went off in sequence. The fires flashed quickly in the vacuum, burning themselves out almost instantly as the oxygen fuelling them dispersed in the void. Korba watched it with a growing sense of melancholy, that he had just seen their last chance go up in flames. Yet it had never been their 'last' chance, had it? There had been nothing there from the get-go, and he had been chasing after rumours for much of the time.
Lyssa was seated on his right. She had her helmet off, strands of her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked brow. She had her eyes downcast, as if deep in rumination, much in the same way Korba had been. He looked to her, and she looked to him, and for a moment the pair held each other in eye contact that said more than words ever could. She understood, and she likely felt similar to how he did, even if she had not been on this mission for as long as he had. She cared about the Empire as much as he did, and they had both been expecting to find something on that orbital space-station.
"I'm sorry, Major," she said suddenly, breaking the relative silence within the passenger cabin. "I know you had your heart set on this."
"I did, and I know you believed in me." He ran a hand over the back of his neck, scratching it absently. "I lead you on this mission, and I understand if you feel let-down, betrayed even."
"Betrayed?" Lyssa shook her head. "No, not at all. We did everything we could. That's more than anyone could ask for. And we'll find another way. I know it."