Chapter 4 - Face to Face
Jakku
The Goazan Badlands
Lor San Tekka was not a Jedi, at least not in the traditional sense. He was not blessed with their gifts. Rather, he was born with a need to understand them, to understand the Force. Perhaps it was a part of him still wanting to become like them anyway he could.
"I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me."
He reached into his robes, feeling the cold steel finish of the lightsaber in his hands. He felt pride and resentment. Why was he alive, and not so many others?
"I shall know no fear, for the Force shall guide me."
He drew the weapon from his sleeve, remembering the day the council had gifted it to him.
"There is no death, there is only the Force."
A cobalt fire sprouted from the immeter like an extension of his spirit. His tortured, guilty spirit.
"I am one with the Force, and the Force… shall keep me."
He thought back to the day he'd met Luke Skywalker, when he'd given him purpose. He'd met many pretenders before him that had power, carried the symbol of the Jedi, but did not understand what it meant to truly be a Jedi.
But Luke had been different. Yes, he had borne the appearance many of those pretenders with his ignorance of his culture's history. But when he looked deeper, peering into his soul, he knew that he was truly one. He may have lacked knowledge, but not understanding. He knew in his heart what it meant to be a Jedi, and had an eagerness to be more than what he was.
He closed his eyes again, memories coming and going. Of old and new Jedi coming together; the tribulations tearing them apart, but bringing them together. Facing enemies of the past and present; triumphing despite the odds, despite the losses. Of an age of justice he had helped build.
He would never be a Jedi, but they had treated him as one. Given him a seat; reverence and respect. And to that end, he had served them with knowledge, the one thing he had in great earnest. And yet out of all those who had died, he lived. The one among them not gifted with their power.
The cruel irony was bitter to him.
"Halt!" he heard the marbled voices of the enemy ahead, and his heart grew hard, "Don't move or we will kill you!"
"Please!" the innocent cried, "Please… d-don't take my children! Please!"
"Stop resisting or we'll-!"
He charged and his blade struck home through the side of his chest, just below the armpit.
"What the-!?"
He turned to see his enemy gawking at him in utter and complete shock. Lor San made good use of his deception and charged. They raised their blasters but he was upon them. With a swipe, he separated head from body. With a hack, the blue arc cleaved through upraised arms. And with a final jab, buried his blade into the chest of the last Stormtrooper.
He fell with the body, staring face to face with it for an eon until finally he rose. Every part of him should have been aching. Screaming in protest. Telling him to stop. Yet… he'd never felt so alive.
"Mr. Tekka…" the quivering innocence crept through his righteous stoicism, and he turned to the woman and her children, "there are too many of them. What are we going to do?"
"Flee, my children. Flee."
He then turned and ran into the fire.
They hadn't gone a hundred feet into the desert when they'd started taking fire again.
"Blast," Poe cursed as he dived for cover behind a ruined wall, "these guys just don't quit."
He hadn't gotten a count, but by the angle of the shots impacting his spot and zooming over his head, he knew that they were quickly moving to surround them. Time was running out.
Vee-Dee-Bum-Boo
"No, I think this is just as bad as that time in Antiga City," he cursed through gritted teeth as he blind fired back at his attackers.
Dee-Bee-Boo-Will
"Hey, that's not fair! You don't have legs! You didn't have to run through that minefield!"
Suddenly, they heard movement coming in on their right. Poe whirled, and there was a Trooper. Before anybody could react, BB-8 charged him. His heavy body slammed into the Trooper with a loud Crunch and sent him falling to the desert floor, then hitting him with a long burst from his arc-caster that left him smoking.
He reached over and plucked the Troopers' F-1, sprinting like his life depended on it. He went from cover to cover, vaulting over walls and boulders as the Troopers kept up the chase. Poe looked over his right, into the vast desert that was flat for a good thirty yards before it hit dunes stretching for miles on end.
It was too far away for him to make it, but it wasn't him that needed to get away. He dived left and headed back into the village. He dove from house to house as explosions and shots battered the area. Poe found his opportune spot, sliding behind a high rising ruin jutting out of the ground
Poe figured he had a good thirty seconds before the Troopers were on them again. BB-8 asked the obvious question, and he sighed.
"I'm going to buy you some time. You need to get out of here."
"'What?'"
"I'm gonna lead them further into the village. When they pass you by, head straight into the desert. Don't stop for anything."
BB-8's arm suddenly jutted out, grabbing him by the shoulder as he frantically beeped his objection. Poe shook his head, and took his mechanical claw in his own.
"Buddy, the mission is more important. Which means you are more important."
"'Poe, we're a team! I can't just leave you!'"
"You've gotta get the map to Senator Organa and the Republic. It doesn't matter if I make it out or not."
"'No, we go together.'"
Poe just shook his head, closing his eyes as he did. "I'm sorry. Look, I'll come back for you, I promise."
BB-8 shook his mechanical head before taking the human in a hug, "'You never keep your promises.'"
"I know." He heard the Stormtroopers closing in. "Go when they pass you by."
He then opened fire on the Troopers and took off toward the center of the village. As the squad took off in pursuit, BB-8 made a bee-line for the dunes. As he did, he whipped his head around; watching Poe until he disappeared out of sight with the Troopers not far behind. He closed his lenses, shaking his head as the droid disappeared into the desert.
"On me. Zeros, take point."
"Copy."
They advanced into the heart of the village. Flanked on all sides by squat, overlapping adobe abodes with narrowing streets, the air was quiet save for the ambience of the battle some hundred yards away.
"Clear," Zeros reported as he waved the squad up. Step by step, the Troopers covered every avenue of approach as they advanced slowly down the street up to Zeros position on the corner.
"Nines, overwatch," Eighty-Seven ordered, waving his hand over to the corner. Nines nodded, and quickly covered the avenue as the other three Troopers crossed the street and onto the first door they came across. Eighty-Seven then signalled the Heavy Trooper and he hustled over, taking up rearguard. Zeroes and Slip both took up positions on either side of the door.
"One… two…"
Eighty-Seven kicked in the door and the Troopers swarmed in. The room was black as pitch, and Slip tripped on something lying on the floor. Eighty-Seven caught him by the arm as the unspokenly switched on their thermals. The room was painted in shades in blues, but no sign of other targets. They quickly searched the area, their armor a reflective green in their HUD's as they went from room to room.
"Clear."
They quickly trotted out, switching off their vision and going to next door across the street. Again, nothing.
"We're gonna be at this for hours," Nines muttered, "gonna die of boredom 'fore we find this bloke."
"Don't hex it, Nines," Zeros chided him.
"Thought you didn't believe in luck."
"Lock it up," Eighty-Seven growled, "next door. Slip, on me."
Slip then held up a hand. "I can hear movement."
"Prep the flashers. On me. One… two…"
As he kicked down the door, he found someone waiting for him right in the doorway. Sapphire ripped through the air as he tumbled to the floor, firing back as he fell. He was conscious of smoke billowing from somewhere below his chin, but he wasn't concerned about that at the moment as he shouted:
"DOWN!"
No sooner than they hit the deck than fire ripped through the walls where the Troopers had been standing. "NINES! LIGHT 'EM UP!"
"WITH PLEASURE!"
The Mega opened up like a primordial animal, ripping chunk sized holes through the building in seconds. The other Troopers in turn added their own fire, Zeros tossing in grenades. A moment later, they were showered in flying debris as the roof caved in.
"Clear out?" Nines called out.
"Clear out!" Slip called back as he scrambled over to Eighty-Seven, "You okay!?"
"Do I look okay?"
"Suits holding," Zeros nodded as he felt the burn through Eighty-Seven's chest plate, "armor absorbed the damage. You're gonna be okay."
"Yeah well, I don't particularly feel it," he groaned as they helped him up.
"Oughta give you a medal!" Nines bellowed as he marched over to them, The Mega held triumphantly over his shoulder, "Number of times you been shot an' all! Gear heads gonna be real happy to get a read out on that!"
"They can have it. I don't want it anymore. Check the building."
There wasn't much point to it. It was like a crushed a can with the middle crumpled out.
"Hopefully the target isn't underneath that," Zeros reported morbidly as they shuffled through the remains.
"Doubt it," Slip countered, "nobody's daft enough to take on Nines and expect to live."
"Damn straight!"
Suddenly another blue bolt sung through the air, smacking Nines in the shoulder. "CONTACT!"
They dived for cover as Nines went to his knee. With a snarl, he rose and unleashed The Mega on the building in front of them.
"YOU WANT SOME OF THIS!? YOU WANT SOME MORE!?"
Then fire whipped from behind them. Nines hit the ground as Eighty-Seven and Slip took up the rear while he and Zeros kept fire on their front.
"Filthy Rebs got us in an ambush!" Zeroes grunted as he tossed another grenade.
"Well, you know what they say!" Nines bellowed back, "You can shoot your way out of anything!"
"CONTACT LEFT!"
"CONTACT RIGHT!"
All around them, bolts zipped through the air and impacted their cover with loud thuds. The Squad took up positions on every wall, firing into the general direction of their attackers. One building caved in a giant explosion of dust and sand. Then another. And yet, there was no end to the shooting.
Seconds felt like hours as the Troopers kept up a constant, never-ending barrage, supplemented by the occasional grenade. Then a bolt struck Nines in the helmet, sending him hurtling to the floor.
"MAN DOWN!" Zeros screamed as he dived for the Trooper.
"SLIP, TAKE OVER!"
As Slip quickly dived for the next fighting position, Zeros immediately checked his vital signs.
"Don't tell me you're missing me already, ya softie," Nines chuckled.
"Heh, not on your life. Eighty-Seven, he'll be-"
He turned his head, and there under the rubble was a burned and battered hand holding a blaster pistol not six feet away.
"Co-"
A shower of blue sparked, and he tumbled over. His hands clutched at his throat, his comm filled with the sounds of him choking.
"NO!" The Mega was in Nines' hands as he opened fire on buried attacker. He fired and fired until the air was filled with crimson dust so thick he blocked unassisted view.
"Zeros is down!" Nines screamed, "Zeros is down!"
Eighty-Seven was over them both, covering as Nines ripped off Zeros' helmet. The tanned, owlish face was pulsating blood; his eyes wide in fear. Bubbles popped and formed from the Troopers mouth as he desperately, frantically tried to breathe.
Nines tore through the man's chest plate, trying to forcibly pry it off. Slip took over covering them as Eighty-Seven clamped his hands over the man's pulsating throat, keep pressure on the wound. He could hear Nines screaming, but he couldn't make out the words. Zeros' eyes grew wider and wider, his skin turning purple at the cheeks as his clamped onto Eighty-Seven's in a death grip.
Then, as Nines tore the chest plate off, Zeros hands went limp and his eyes fell backwards. Nines shook him over and over, decompressing his chest frantically. Over and over, the chest fell but the face remained impassive; his eyes locked in a cold impression as he stared into the sky above.
Sound krept in.
"Come on, mate! Come on! Breathe, dammit, breathe!"
"Nines!" Eighty-Seven shouted as he took the Trooper by his shoulder and shook him, "He's gone!"
"No he's-"
"He's gone."
"We gotta get out of here!" Slip cried frantically as he swung and fire from one side to another.
"Nines, get your weapon and take-"
Nines was standing. The Mega was clasped in firmly in his hands as he roared long and loud enough to be heard outside of his comm's, "I'M COMIN' FOR YOU, REBS!"
He marched into the fray and opened fire. His armor was soon smoking and buckling from return fire, but he kept marching on; tearing into buildings left and right.
"NINES!" Eighty-Seven screamed, "GET BACK!"
Nines didn't answer, and when the Mega's barrel finally melted he merely tossed it at his enemy and drew his SE-44c sidearm.
"Nines, you idiot!" Slip called out as he and Eighty-Seven came up behind him, trying desperately to cover him, "Get back-"
Suddenly, a searing white explosion engulfed their world and set them flying. His ears ringing, Eighty-Seven slowly rose to see only smoke and dust smothering him like fog. Nines was nowhere to be seen.
"Slip," he called out, "Slip!"
"Eighty… Seven?"
"Come on, we gotta get out of here!" He rose, slinging his weapon over and shooting into every direction.
"Eighty…" His voice was becoming weaker.
"Slip, c'mon!"
"I…?"
Eighty-Seven looked down and his heart stopped. Imbedded in Slip's chest was massive piece of white armor shrapnel. Slip's hands clung delicately to it, blood seeping from wound.
"I… I can't…"
"C'mon, we gotta move!" Eighty-Seven plucked him by his shoulder and ran into the opposite direction, blue bolts of plasma chasing after them like specters in the night.
"Eighty…"
"Don't talk. Save your breath."
"I… I feel so… feel so cold."
"Just hang on! Echo-One-Two! I have multiple casualties!"
Pain shot through his back as something knocked him on his face and through a crumbled doorway. He spun and fired, catching an attacker in the chest and forcing the others to retreat.
"E-Eighty?"
"Slip! Just hang on!"
"I… I…" Slip clutched at the shrapnel sticking out of his chest, blood running down its jagged length and soaking into his gloves. Eighty-Seven clutched him tightly as he tried to move him.
"C'mon, Slip! We need to go!"
"I can't… I can't feel my legs… I…" He reached his hand for Eighty-Seven's helmet, holding him there as he whispered, "I… I didn't… I didn't let you…"
"No," he wrapped his hand around Slip's helmet, embracing him, "you didn't. You did good. You're gonna keep doing good, you hear?"
"I…"
Then his hand fell from Eighty-Seven's helmet, leaving behind a bloody handprint. Eighty-Seven shuddered as he cradled his brother, holding his helmet to his own. And in that moment, he screamed.
The world turned silent. Not a noise was stirred as the wall before him exploded, as he tumbled down the hill and the world turned into a giant blur of red sand. He felt the action and recoil of his weapon, saw the bolts flew in every direction as the sand consumed him.
The ground rocked below, and he was in the air. He tumbled and rolled in the darkness. Something hit him in the side. Something hard and hot, and he fell forward through a door. He lay there on the hardened wood floor, not even sure if he was still alive. If he even should be.
Then he heard a whimper. He rose by an elbow, by a hand, and there in the corner was a woman clutching children. He rose by a knee, his weapon still clasped in his fingers. The children whimpered, and the woman curled into them. She was trying to shield them.
He had never seen such fear. Then he heard someone coming. Someone else bumbled into the room, rolling through an open window. He was wearing an orange flight suit.
"Man, these guys don't…" He saw him. He rose, his weapon pointed at him. An F-11. "You've gotta be kidding me!"
Eighty-Seven hadn't felt it. All he knew was that the Reb was in his sight. That he was there, and he was here. And that both were a three pound pressure pull from blowing the other away.