Chapter Six: "The Weapon I Came to Forge"
Cress felt his entire world shift beneath him. What was happening was impossible. He willed the nightmare to end, for Tavus to reveal some extra ruse that was at play.
But the reality of the situation persisted.
"I hoped it wouldn't come to this," Tavus said as he disarmed him. "I tried to keep you back at Fort Garnik. But we were just too slow getting out."
"You're a traitor," Cress said. The words were ash in his mouth, an acknowledgement of an awful truth.
"From a certain point of view," Tavus acknowledged. "But my men and I have been true to what we are. It's the Republic that has betrayed us, tossed us aside. Remember your pirate intercept – You lost good men, who would still be alive if the Senate hadn't stripped your budget, taken away the supplies you needed to do the job."
"And you think things are better with the Empire?"
"The Empire respects warriors," Tavus said confidently. "The truth is, whatever they may say, the Republic Senate doesn't believe it can win a war against the Empire. People like you and me? We're a threat to them. Every HAVOC Squad victory fires up people's imaginations, fills them with pride. So the Senate takes away just a little more before sending us back in. Strips away a position here, equipment there – All to make sure that we stop winning."
"Do you hear yourself?" Cress asked. "You sound like a conspiracy theorist hiding in a basement."
"The Republic abandoned us," Tavus replied. "Look up Ando Prime. Wait, you can't – Because only about six people in the galaxy have the clearance. The Republic abandoned us on Ando Prime. Left us to die."
Tavus had not confiscated his earpiece. Jorgan's voice came through now. "Keep him talking, Sergeant. Backup will be there any second."
Tavus patted Cress' shoulder, a genuinely warm gesture. "I won't try to persuade you," he said sadly. "I'm glad you still have your ideals intact."
Tavus looked toward Wraith, gave a slight nod.
Cress tossed his head back, glad now that he had discarded his helmet. His lekku swung backward like weights, knocking Wraith off her feet.
He rolled, grabbing Wraith's blaster rifle from the ground before snapping to a standing position. The HAVOC Squad members were already running for the Imperial line. Cress drew a bead on Tavus, fired.
The captain must have sensed the movement, because he turned at the last second. The bolt didn't miss entirely, though. It seared across his cheek, making him cry out. Wraith and Gearbox grabbed Tavus and pulled him the last few steps to the shuttle.
The reinforcements finally arrived, engaging the Imperials. The Imperials focused on holding them back as their own transports lifted off. They were no motley gang of separatists. They maintained discipline under fire , pulling steadily back to close any gaps in their lines. By the time the Republic broke through, the last transport was away.
Republic troopers searched for survivors among the Imperials. They took prisoners where they found them, secured dropped equipment or weapons where they found those. Cress walked toward the edge of the launch bay, staring up at the sky of Ord Mantell. The same sky he had looked at that morning – Only now, nothing was the same.
Jorgan's voice sounded again. The lieutenant sounded as numb and exhausted as Cress felt.
"All that's left here is clean-up, Sergeant," Jorgan said. "Return to Fort Garnik for debrief. It's time to come home."
Tython's sun was setting as Caecinius arrived at The Great Forge. He appreciated the symmetry. The first confrontation at The Forge had occurred not long after dawn. The second would take place at dusk.
He found Bengel Morr at the foot of the shrine. Satele Shan lay on the ground, two Flesh Raiders standing over her. Caecinius anxiously probed the Grandmaster with his senses.
She was alive.
"I sensed your approach," Bengel told him. "Your emotions betrayed you. So much anger. So much fear. Concern for this one." His foot nudged Satele dismissively. "So much weakness."
Caecinius searched the Nautalon's face, trying to find any glimmer of the young man he remembered. It was as if a stranger stood before him.
"I can't let you hurt her, Bengel," he said. "Give up this madness."
"No!" Bengel snarled. "The Force guided me here for justice. I will restore what the Jedi lost!" He gestured to the Flesh Raiders. They picked Satele off the ground like a doll, holding her upright between them. She started to stir, but she was too dazed to fight.
"What happened to you, Bengel?" he demanded.
Bengel laughed bitterly. "I already told you, old friend. Coruscant. You were there. You saw what I saw – Our greatest, cut down like grass. Our Temple burned like a pyre. I was one of several students taken by the Empire – Tortured, experimented on. So many padawans died screaming. But I was strong. I escaped, returned to Republic space. And what did I find?"
He pointed to Satele, who groggily returned his gaze.
"Surrender!" Bengel shouted. "The Sith exterminated us, and what did the Republic do? What did the Council do? They gave up!"
He screamed the words directly into Satele's face.
"Is that why you brought Grandmaster Shan here?" Caecinius demanded. "Revenge? She didn't sign the Treaty. She specifically argued against the Treaty!"
"And then did nothing!" Bengel's lips now frothed with spittle. His emotions swung wildly, completely uncontrolled. "Under her so-called 'leadership,' the Jedi have turned their faces from the galaxy!" Satele was fully awake now, and Bengel sneered directly at her. "What are the Jedi doing, Grandmaster? What is your great plan? To 'Reconnect with our origins?' Just fancy words for hiding!"
He turned back to Caecinius. He seemed to calm instantly.
"But I have come to put things right," he said. "Right here, at the Forge. At the shrine this woman created. We will sacrifice the weak to make the Order strong again. We will be reborn from ashes!"
Caecinius activated his lightsaber. "You know I can't let that happen," he said.
Bengel grinned. "Then let us put each other to the test, old friend."
They came together, Caecinius' blue lightsaber connecting with Bengel's bright yellow. The years had made the Nautolan strong and, however unstable his emotions were, his form was disciplined. He pushed Caecinius back with a series of short slashes.
"You were always the stronger on the practice field," Bengel sneered. "But the weakling you remember was burned away long ago. Pain has made me strong. All those teachings about emotions? They are nonsense. Rage fuels me, and grants me power."
More slashes. Still controlled, but rising in intensity. Ceacinius was pushed back further, toward the edge of the summit path. He would soon be forced over the edge.
He tried to push Bengel back with his own assault. Bengel thrust his blade toward his chest, and Caecinius had to backpedal to avoid the blow.
He was now at the cliff. One more step, and this duel would be over.
"Disappointing," Bengel said. "The Jedi's Great Swordmaster. You have become as weak as any of them."
"Keep moving," Caecinius had told his students. "Move or die."
He took his own advice, pivoting away and to the side. Bengel was surprised by the sudden motion. The Nautolan almost lost his footing, but recovered rapidly, fending off Caecinius' attempted assault.
"Nicely done," he congratulated his old friend. "But your attacks lack commitment. Let's give you some, shall we?"
Bengel called to the Flesh Raiders; "If he does not defeat me in the next 60 seconds, you have my permission to tear that woman's throat out." The creatures responded with their horrible, guttural laugh.
Caecinius felt his anger build. This being was not the young man who had been his friend. He was an enemy, bent on destroying everything he valued. In all but name, he was a Sith.
He felt he was back at the Jedi Temple. Master Gos was dueling the Sith Lord Thanaton. Was losing. Thanaton was readying his death blow.
Not this time.
Caecinius directed a Force burst at the Flesh Raiders. They were knocked backward. Satele did not waste the opportunity, using The Force to snatch up a Flesh Raider spear. She jabbed the spear directly into one creature's gut. The other one recovered, and the Jedi Grandmaster and the Flesh Raider circled each other.
Caecinius focused on Bengel, parrying an attack, then pushing forward with his whole body, slashing and hacking as he charged.
This time, Bengel was forced back. Caecinius raised his lightsaber, slashed again with the full force of his anger.
He struck Bengel, who collapsed to the ground.
He looked over at Satele. Her duel with the Flesh Raider had been a short one. The creature had strength and cunning, but had been unable to match her skill. It lay in a heap at her feet.
Bengel Morr still lived. His breath came in rasps, his eyes staring at something in the distance that Caecinius could not see. For the first time, he could sense something of the young man from the training grounds.
Bengel laughed. "You beat me again," he gasped. Pain flashed across his face. It was clearly agony for him to talk.
Caecinius fell to his knees at Bengel's side, looked at the injury. A deep wound in the side of his chest.
"Hold on, Bengel," he urged.
He started to tap his wrist communicator, to call for help. Bengel's hand closed over his own.
"No, old friend." He coughed, then let out a small moan at the pain. "It is too late for that. I've done what I came for."
He grasped Caecinius' hand, spoke urgently.
"You are strong – Stronger than any Jedi I have known. You can redeem the Order. Destroy the Sith." Bengel's eyes started to glaze over. "You are the reason The Force guided me here. You are the weapon I came to forge…"
Bengel's eyes glazed over. Two more agonizing rasps came from his chest. Then his breathing ceased.
Caecinius reached out to close his old friends' eyes. He felt Satele's hand on his shoulder. She offered her hand, and Caecinius allowed her to help him to his feet.
They didn't speak. Any words they might say would be inadequate. They stood at the edge of the summit, looking out over the valley. Watching as dusk settled, and the last of the light faded from the sky.