Star Wars: The Korasa Trial
Chapter 4:
They travelled in complete darkness, but for the occasional dim light given off by Obee. The droid turned around every few minutes, drifting backwards through the air while he made certain that no one was missing. Kagen concentrated purely on running, matching his pace to the others. Their footsteps composed a strange rhythm; Zea's ponderous strides each accounting for three of Tem's. Yasue, closer in height to the Padawan, had fallen exactly into step with him. It made him smile for some reason, an absolutely mundane detail that offered no contribution to...anything really; but it was reassuring nonetheless.
When that rhythm faltered, he felt it immediately. She wasn't falling behind, but ran unevenly. The Force shifted restlessly, a nagging haze of discomfort closing around her. A moment later, it was quelled, none too gently, allowing no sympathy. Kagen knew it was still there – the Force was as strong now as it had been inaccessible before, and she could not suppress the fleeting, helpless frustration that followed.
It was a bizarre sensation; her presence was so clear, yet she kept her emotions so controlled as to imperceptible. Zea was stranger still; he had a detached almost grudging respect for the others, but no concern for their wellbeing. Obee, of course, was a blank void in the Force, a hole in the living energy around them; Tem, an uncomplicated soldier.
He at least had a sense of affection about him; finally noticing the change in stride, he glanced back at Yasue, concern implicit in his expression. She met his eyes, waving him on hurriedly. He shrugged, muttering something vague in their language, and let it drop.
For some time, Kagen had been distantly aware of the yawning space surrounding them. It was a little uncomfortable, a persistent ache in the hollows of his montrals that bespoke emptiness. He couldn't see it, and the Force was still, but he knew they were approaching another dome long before it appeared, coloured grey-green by Obee's photoreceptor.
The doors opened easily enough, huge as they were; Obee hovered in front of them, gave a few important sounding beeps, and led the way down the narrow passage. Stepping inside was disorientating, the air becoming more solid. The temperature changed fractionally, Kagen's cloak settling in stiff, cold folds. Yasue paused in the doorway, looking out across the dark, and tiny in the huge frame. It was then a familiar claxon sounded, entirely faster than before.
"In," Tem snapped, a low whine rising from above them. With a spluttering wail, a thick energy shield descended over the doorway, less than a metre out from the dome itself. The whitish shroud hummed; bright one moment, then fading almost into transparency.
Other domes were lighting up, brilliant shields spreading over them; one remained unlit. The dome they had left was visible as a dense hemisphere of shadow, kilometres away. The space between them was grey and devoid of life, though odd pieces of equipment were scattered, casting long shadows. The droning sound of the generators turned more urgent, tracing a great wall of light past them, stretching on without end in both directions. Then the lighting strips flickered on, inconsequential and ridiculous.
"Full lockdown," Yasue said blankly. Obee gave a low whistle, sinking lower to the ground.
"Did we do that?" Tem turned to face Kagen, bleak. His was a rather mournful face by nature, long and thin, but now seemed carved of stone. Then he paled, staring past him. The Force rocked with sudden danger, and Kagen spun around to see a gleaming black mask on the other side of the shield. The Kouven watched them, touching his red blade against the shield in a hissing shower of sparks. It bounced off with no effect and he deactivated it, merely watching.
Kagen shivered; savage intent rolled off the man, the Force twisting horribly around him. Yasue perceived it, and with cold purpose, brought the weight of her own attack to bear. She didn't move at all, or speak, but Kagen felt the clone mind flinch away from her grip. There was a truly awful moment when the clone recognized his inevitable death; not with fear, but mechanic acceptance. Then he was gone, the body falling back away from the shield.
"Oi suge, Darth," Tem said mildly. Yasue raised an eyebrow at the complement, a little disapproving, then froze. Her eyes flicked towards Kagen's, a stupidly guilty expression fixed on her face. Tem glanced between them uneasily.
"O, sou!" he muttered in sudden comprehension. Yasue leaned against the wall, breath hissing out between her teeth.
"Zea-dana, please see to the airscrubber. Cell 2-41." The tall alien blinked his orb-like eyes, bowing his head in Yasue's direction. "Obee shut the doors and see if you can get the perimeter sensors online, Kagen, Tem-da, with me please," she continued, limping down the corridor.
The giant blast doors crashed together, over-loud. Tem walked quietly, contrite. The air was stale, Kagen hadn't noticed it so much before, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. Yasue was a few steps ahead; he almost walked into her when she stopped just around the corner.
"Here," she muttered, almost inaudibly. Tem looked at her sharply, stepping around the Padawan.
"Darasu so heat stick, Tae-da," he said hurriedly, ducking into the cell. Kagen followed, glancing over his shoulder; Yasue's eyes were half-closed and dull. The room was larger than the other, completely empty, but several bunks slid out of the wall as Tem slid his hand over a sensor panel. He tried a few drawers, before pulling out a truly archaic heating unit. More squat than stick-shaped, it coughed out copious amounts of dust, before the fan began to spin properly; then stank of burnt grime. It also rattled sporadically.
Yasue sat down immediately, fingers curled around the edge of the bunk. Somewhere, the airscrubber activated the sound thin and annoying to Kagen's still-sore ears.
"I'm not a Sith," Yasue said. "It's –"she broke off, looking critically at the heating unit. Frowning slightly, she flapped her hand at it. The Force twitched in response, and something creaked inside the unit. Abruptly, the rattling stopped. It still wasn't very quiet, but the worst of the grating noise was relieved.
"Ow," Yasue muttered, bringing her hand across her eyes. The protective walls she had created through the Force wavered, fatigue and discontent showing through. No anger, nor hate. No desperate lust for power either, but indignation – 'Damn Sei,' sounded as clearly as though she had spoken.
"It's a nickname of sorts, Gaaran grammar; 'daru' and 'teru'–"Kagen nodded, trying not to smile. She was in complete earnest; serious, and so very un-Sith-like.
"I'll take your word for it," he said.
Light footsteps preceded Zea's return, the door sliding up but still too short to let him enter without stooping. He ignored the bunks, but his eyes lingered disdainfully, on the battered heater. A narrow crest traversed his skull, fractionally darker than his pale skin; so white as to almost glow. He sat gracefully, delicate and strange. The high plastoid collar and curving armour seemed completely at odds with the rudimentary furnishings of the cell. He apparently agreed; controlled distaste coloured the Force around him. Then Kagen felt the very deliberate dismissal as the alien's thoughts were closed off to him. The great eyes turned to him, seemingly lit from within, and a fine green colour at their core.
"You are very clumsy," Zea remarked. He directed his attention to Yasue: "Obee is monitoring the security cameras; he has a clear field of view within a radius of five kilometres." She nodded and drew her knees up to her chin.
"Following a full lockdown, communications will be out for at least an hour more. We should eat." Tem opened his pack, passing around greyish ration bars. They had a very bland, inoffensive flavour, not as unpromising as they looked. There was no water, but a vaguely sweet, pinkish liquid, was poured out and passed around. Yasue breathed out slowly, back against the wall and her eyes shut. Then she opened one, lazily.
"I need another power cell; mine died." Tem raised an eyebrow sceptically, handing her a small cylinder. He grumbled something at her, still in their language – Gaaran, Kagen supposed.
"Naa, Dar – Tae-da," he amended the address hastily, but maintained the same reproachful tone. She let him get halfway through, interrupting when he overlooked the slightly pointed silence.
"Speak Basic please." Tem looked a little pained. 'I can try and fix your com later, but you can still speak it in the meantime."
"Not well," was the bland reply. He paused again, reconsidering the vaguely condescending manner.
"We've only got three baton-charges left; discharging the whole cell can short out a lightsaber, as you so aptly demonstrated, but it might be wise to save the last ones. They already know we're out here so can't you just use an ouken?" The words were understandable, and spoken a much more professional accent, but there were strange pauses between and within the phrases that seemed to be involuntary.
"If I'd used an ouken it would have left you all open to any other Kouven out there. There was a Ven unaccounted for, and Kouven are the only ones that ever work alone. It's also impossible to link three minds through one; I had to block the one against Kagen first," she said flatly. Tem frowned at her, then at the Padawan, and then blinked in realisation.
"Huh. You're lucky, ouken aren't very nice," he said, a rather grim note entering his voice. "Who are you anyway? Jedi?"
"Kagen Ced; I'm a Padawan. Our ship was attacked over Kamino. There were three others with me; you didn't find the other pod?" Tem shook his head gloomily.
"Another party maybe, Si'en just brought you. Fourth-div, Oga Temaru by the way; that's Zea Ne." He pointed helpfully at the lieutenant. Despite the strange cadence, he spoke with more empathy than either of his superiors, recognizing Kagen's curiosity before he could voice it.
"My language model needs replacement, which makes translations into Basic a bit disjointed. I understand it very well, but it takes a bit longer to say; the speed will improve as the system adjusts. At least I don't talk like a protocol droid." Yasue blew a wisp of hair away from her face, ignoring him a little too deliberately. Tem met her eyes and shrugged innocently, before turning back to the Padawan. His armour was a much lighter shade of grey; fitted like Yasue's, but markedly thicker, and it was a few seconds before his words sunk in.
"OGA: Omni-Gan-Ateru, it's a clone designation," he offered, leaning forward to show the metallic collar that extended halfway around the back of his neck. There was a puckered dent in his skin where the augmenting wires connected the system, but his mind felt entirely human. "Means that my combat computer is fully integrated
"You saw; clones are extremely vulnerable to Force influences, since their consciousnesses are almost identical. Clones in the Hunter Divisions are fitted with cybernetics that allow us to carry out our duties, even if our conscious minds are affected. It's an imperfect process and it wears the language modules down quickly; even if the implant itself stays dormant, there's a constant translation running to detect any potential violations of its programming. Say if I intended to point my weapon at Tae-da –" he did so, raising the long blaster rifle quickly, " – it would activate and stop me." The motion became sporadic, muscles working under the skin, and his speech turned quite expressionless. Relaxing, he let the weapon drop, twitching away the remaining tension.
"Basically it's a default setting that prevents clones from turning on their own side. It doesn't generally affect how personality translates from the original template. I'm from the same source as Araven, but since the average clone lifespan is about 10-and-a-half years, and I'm twenty-four, they look pretty different. Ma ii," he trailed off, taking a sizable bite of his ration bar.
Tem was not at all Force-sensitive, but he seemed to feel Zea's gaze on him all the same. The lieutenant's expression was carefully dispassionate; only the eyes seemed cold. If Tem was offended by the unasked censure, he didn't show it, shrugging again. His quiet cynicism seemed far too distinct for a cloned mind, though he followed Zea's example and let the matter rest. Kagen studied the pale alien, wondering at the chilly pride beneath the serene front. It was only after staring at the white armour for a few minutes that he noticed the oddly familiar characters stamped on the shoulder pad. It took a moment longer to place them; the same curved script that had been imprinted on Dorn's helmet, just under the Aurebesh markings.
"You're from Kamino aren't you?"
"Yes," Zea said neutrally. A bare flicker of acknowledgment passed between them.
"You can use the Force?" Kagen prompted, sure. The Kaminoan turned slowly back to him.
"Not well," he said, unsmiling and a faint mocking quality to his words.
Kagen waited, but it seemed he had nothing more to offer. After a moment, Yasue took pity on him, changing the subject.
"We will be able to reach the Rift tomorrow I hope, if any of the other Hunter Divisions found your companions. I can spare Tem to take you, even if Si'en and I are needed elsewhere. The shield over the dome can be breached from the inside, through the top-hatch," she added, not entirely reassuring. Zea flicked his gaze towards her.
"You cannot maintain a Force link if the boy is too far away."
"It will hold over four kilometres; we accounted for five Kouven, the most that would've been assigned to one unit." Yasue bit her lip, ignoring Kagen's startled glance.
"There are only two circumstances in which a full lockdown would have been implemented –"
"And we'd have noticed planetary bombardment," Tem put in, deeply pessimistic.
" – Which leaves a large force, more than a hundred units crossing the far Mid-gates; if anyone else from his ship survived, they're about to get caught in the middle of a war. A unit with more than two Kouven is rare in itself; I thought they might have been trying to break through this sector, hence sealing us inside one of the domes; if Vessel is involved..." She shook her head. "It'll be interesting.
"Kagen saw Vessel back at the Rift – the Ven's second in command –" she added for the aforementioned Padawan's benefit, " – so he's probably still around here somewhere. If the Force link fails, Si'en could restore it, she has a longer range than me –"
"What link?" Kagen interrupted, at his limit. Yasue blinked at him.
"You didn't notice? I was too slow to block the first Kouven to target you and it affected you badly, so I pretty much filtered them out entirely from that point on."
"I noticed – something – that was you?"
"Well you were struggling; another Jedi who came here had the same problem. 'The Force was unstable', was how she described it. You were correcting yourself already, but it was safer to keep the link in place; the older Kouven are more proficient." She frowned at him, clearly stuck for how best to explain. Struck with sudden inspiration, she rummaged in the folds of her sash, finally withdrawing the glass sphere she'd had back in the first dome.
"Try and pick it up with the Force," she said, setting it down triumphantly. Kagen glanced at it uncertainly; there was an avid gleam in her eyes and she looked fully awake again. Swallowing his unease, he stretched out his hand. It gave a funny sort of jump and started to roll towards him, but didn't lift of the floor. His Force grip on the sphere kept shifting, as though he was trying to pick up a globe of water instead of glass; he narrowed his attention and brought it unswervingly into his hand.
Yasue followed its movement, blankly surprised. The silence stretched out bizarrely; abruptly shattered when Tem let out a rough bark of laugher.
"He was supposed to drop it, then?" Yasue flushed, recalling the sphere with an absent flick.
"People usually do," she said. "It's ishiri; same mineral that's in all of the rock here, and it distorts the Force." Tem cocked an eyebrow, amusement still twisting his lips. Yasue turned her back on him.
"Because of its abundance here, it becomes difficult to feel the Force. Every sensation is amplified but made nonspecific at the same time, so a single person's presence becomes pretty difficult to distinguish more than a few metres away. Pure ishiri particularly – like that piece – isn't easy to get a grip on. It took me almost a day," she muttered, half-inwardly. Tem grinned over her shoulder, repacking the supplies.
"I see," Kagen said, not quite truthfully.
"It's good that you can do it already, some people find it harder to adjust their techniques." Yasue obviously intended it as a compliment, but her surprise mirrored his own confusion. There was no point in time that he could definitively remember the Force changing; perhaps somewhere between the two domes. It was still different and not at all gentle, but he could sense Yasue's presence easily enough. If he concentrated, the warped ripples around the ishiri globe – moving as she returned it to her sash – became apparent, tiny fluctuations in the Force that blurred everything else together.
"Who's Si'en?" he asked, for lack of anything else.
"She's an independent Hunter, unattached to any of the Divisions. She'll be outside somewhere. Oh; she's not a Sith either." The last was said a little doubtfully, but with polite finality. She stayed awake long enough to nod in vague approval of his cooperation, then settled back against the wall. Her eyes closed and she appeared to relax; Kagen could feel the quiet attentiveness that remained.