Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars The Force Unleashed.
Note: Update day here again! These seem to come around scarily fast. Many thanks to all my wonderful reviewers and a big 'hello' to my new subscribers/readers. A special thanks goes out to my beta, Liisiko who has been helping me with these chapters.
CHAPTER 24 - Escape
Location: Besbrillmir / The Armistice
The sense of completeness that having his weapons back pumped adrenaline into his veins as he charged down the stairs and careened around the corner to hastily make his way back to the lab; where he had left that scientist reprogramming those assassin droids.
He supposed it had been too much to hope that no one had sought entrance into the laboratory in his absence. There, trying to force their way in was a group of stormtroopers. Hovering worriedly behind them were two scientists and it was they who spotted the Apprentice first, cowering back and crying out in their keening voices.
He spun, the red blade pivoting with him, stabbing between the plates of armor to take out the first trooper's throat. One slain, the blue blade was next to come alive in the Sith's hand, searing an almost vertical slice up the next one's chest plate. Now, with his back to them, he rotated the blades into a reverse-grip and jabbed back, impaling the last two just below the ribcage. Together, they sagged forwards and, shaking them loose, he sent one blade to chase down the fleeing scientists; using the Force to control its path and cut the legs out from under them. They screamed and writhed there on the floor where they fell and he left them to their agony as he ripped the doors to the lab open and stepped inside.
"Cerean, have—" He paused, confused.
The scientist was gone and so had all of the droids; the frames that had once supported them now hanging empty. Ripping a desk up from the floor, he cast it back to block the doorway and prevent easy access from any soldiers who might happen past.
The high, biting shrieks of the scientists still echoed painfully in the corridor beyond.
"Where did he—" And then he spotted the door on the far side of the room, tucked in an unlit corner as if it didn't want to be noticed. With a short breath, he crossed the room and blasted the door inwards.
He was met with six pairs of piercing red eyes.
"A-ah! You're back!" The Cerean, who had paused in fright, returned to scuttling back and forth between consoles, looking both harassed and delighted. "Stand down, Sentinels. Stand down."
"Yes, Maker." The six droids echoed in their mechanical, emotionless voices, lowering their weapons obediently.
"You do realize that by breaking the door, you've left us open to attack?" The scientist pointed out. "Always with the violence."
"Remember who you're talking to."
"Find what you were looking for?" The scientist continued, head down as he studied a particular display, his hands darting over the keys.
"The objects, yes, but not the man."
The Cerean looked up at him and then startled again. "You're bleeding."
Automatically, the Apprentice looked down and was more than a little shocked to see a small puddle of blood forming at his feet. He shuffled backwards, aware suddenly of the burning wound in his side and the steady trickle of blood down to the floor. He wavered on his feet and would have collapsed had it not been for the scientist dashing in to support him. Angry – furious, in fact – at receiving help from a weaker, inferior being, he shoved the alien away and sagged back against the wall.
"You're going to bleed to death."
"The Force sustains me."
"Force or no Force, let me see if I can find something to bandage those wounds."
"Why?"
"What do you mean, 'why'? I can't get out of here without you. If you die, I die." The Cerean worriedly ran a hand through his scraggly, graying hair and cast a frantic look around the room. "There should be an emergency kit somewhere." He dashed across the room and began to search through the contents on the workstations. In his panic, he accidentally knocked the kit onto the floor. The container burst open, throwing its contents in all directions.
Bored of watching the bumbling scientist, the Apprentice turned his gaze to the rest of the room. It was poorly lit but he still couldn't believe that he'd managed to overlook the prototype Walker crouched in the center of the room. It stood on an elevator, dark and motionless and though it was smaller than he had imagined, there was still something distinctly predatory about it.
"Here." The Cerean had retrieved bandages and some bacta patches from the floor and now held them out towards the Apprentice.
"Are you going to activate that?"
"The Walker? Y-yes."
The Apprentice winced as he took the medical supplies and took a moment to peel away the tatters of his dark shirt and filthy bandages. The cruel gouges in his sides – carved there by twisted metal – and the searing mark across his chest blazed an angry red against his pale, pale skin. His hands shook as he pressed the patches into place and then, gritting his teeth, he wrapped the bandages around his torso, using the entire roll in the process.
He looked up and the Cerean's head snapped back around to concentrate on his work.
Then, suddenly, raised voices cut the air and the Apprentice lurched forwards, his hand coming to rest over the hilt of his crimson blade.
"How long is it going to take?" He demanded.
"This isn't easy, you know! If I don't get this right, it could end up attacking us as well."
"So you could operate it now?"
"Well…yes, but—"
"—Then stop talking and do it."
There was a tremendous crash as the desk blocking the doorway was forced from its place and a moment later the security alarms began to blare.
The clone turned to meet the troops as they charged into the room, throwing up an arm and sending a great swath of electricity washing over them. The first five soldiers were propelled backwards into their comrades but the gaps created by their absence were quickly filled with others. Drawing more power, his fingers curled, knuckles bone-white, he sent more energy shooting forth. In his haste and desperation, some went wild, snapping angrily against the walls. Frustrated, he abandoned the lightning for a more precise means of attack. The crimson blade activated, the intense heat of it crawling against his skin as he swung it forward, carving deep into the chest plate of the nearest trooper.
Behind that trooper, three more fell – each shot clearly through the head by the assassin droids at the clone's flank. To the Apprentice's surprise – and disappointment – the last of the attackers dropped back and made a hasty retreat – clearly deciding to wait for backup rather than risking their lives.
"Cerean, get that—" The words died in his mouth.
The elevator the Walker was positioned on lurched and then complained loudly as it began to lower, taking the droid with it.
"What are you doing?" The rage flared and without even thinking he was pulling the scientist away from the controls. The act was so violent that it sent the Cerean clear off of his feet, throwing him hard on his side. The Apprentice slammed his hand against the controls, halting the elevator's progress and then whirled to finish off the scientist.
The Cerean's expression gave him pause however. The scientist looked horrified but the dark clone was not the cause.
"It's activating. It's activating!" The scientist shrieked. "Send it down! Quick! Send it down!" He was trying to stand but his strength seemed to have failed him.
Behind him the Apprentice heard the Walker's mechanisms engage, the sound of it powering up sending a high-pitched buzzing through his ears. He turned back just as the Walker leapt, the cruel scythe-shaped limbs hooking over the edge of the elevator as it tried to pull itself up. His hand jerked towards the panel and the elevator gave a horrible grinding as it continued its downwards path.
The Walker gave an angry mechanical roar, its body slamming against the wall of the elevator as the platform disappeared beneath its 'feet', leaving it dangling from the edge. Then the hooked legs seemed to grip tighter as the Walker prepared to hoist itself up. The Sith did not give it a chance.
Beckoning the Force to his aid, he coiled its energy around the Walker's legs and moved them – slowly but surely – the tips of its limbs screeched against metal, scattering sparks, and then it toppled backwards. The Apprentice waited for the thunderous sound of it connecting with the very bottom of the elevator. But the sound never came.
Stepping forwards and resting his palms against the edge, he peered down into shadows.
And there, down at the bottom – glaring back at him with eight piercing photoreceptors – was the Walker, very much undamaged, clearly having somehow landed on its feet. It gave another mechanical clicking sound and with exceptional speed, launched itself up at him. The Apprentice lurched backwards, staggering away from the platform.
"It'll get up. It'll get up. We need to get out of here." The Cerean panicked, still trying to pull himself upright.
With the alarm still blaring in their ears, both began to search for a way out. Unfortunately there was only one way out and, by the sounds of the yelling that rose above the alarm, it would not be particularly easy. Setting his jaw, the sabers came to life in his hand with a familiar hiss.
The assassin droids fanned out, rifles at the ready, and as the Apprentice stepped through the door, he heard them follow.
"If they want death." He hissed. "I'll give them death."
The clone left behind a corridor piled with lifeless bodies, the stench of seared flesh more than enough to hasten his step. Beneath them, perhaps two or three floors below, he could hear the mechanical shrieking of the small but agile Walker. He wondered who had the highest death count so far: him or the droid.
Ahead of him was another short flight of stairs. The clone had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that if this was an underground base, going up was his best bet. If he could get to that landing field he could get away from here and…well, if there were any ships left, that was. The alarm could have sent them all into a hurried take-off.
From a door by the stairs a small battalion of stormtroopers led by an officer in olive-grey uniform appeared; almost running straight into them in their hurry to escape. They pulled up short, the sounds of their yells inaudible over the alarm.
The officer raised his blaster and the Sith stepped aside to give one of the assassin droids a clear shot. A gaping hole opened up between the officer's eyes. His mouth hung slack as he fell backwards, hitting the floor hard. And then the Sith was amongst them, cutting and turning; feeling the burn of the air as blaster fire streamed past him – always so close but never hitting.
When they lay dead, he ascended the stairs, not looking back—never looking back.
Behind him, only four of the six Sentinel droids remained. The two who had been the least prepared for battle had fallen quickly – the lack of armor leaving them vulnerable enough they had not survived the first clash. Those that remained huddled close to their new master. How the Cerean was faring, the clone did not know.
He reached up, rubbing his forearm against his head to wipe away the trickles of sweat that insisted in running into his eyes, pausing to catch his breath as he scanned the area.
Then, quite suddenly, the alarm died, throwing them into a silence that was almost as deafening. He could hear the harshness of his own breathing, the buzz of the sabers still alive in his hands. Then, distantly, echoing again and again, came a twisted, agonized scream followed by the sound of rending metal.
"The Walker." The Cerean wheezed from somewhere behind him.
The Sith opted to turn right, heading away from the sounds of those pain-filled cries. He was almost at the end of the corridor when the skulking Walker broke through, clawing its way up through the levels between them with horrifying ease.
"Sentinel-2!" The Cerean barked. "Defend."
"Yes, Maker." The droid turned, taking a defensive posture. It's red, arrow-shaped eyes seemed to glare bright as it raised its rifle and fired off a round of precise shots.
The clone would not see how precise the shots were – too busy trying to wrench the door open. It had locked itself down when the alarm had been raised and, in his fatigue and desperation, he struggled to inch the Force between the gap to prise it open.
He heard the droid fire again and the hurried sound of the Walker closing in. The doors shook and then, with an almighty roar, he gave up on being precise and rammed the Force into it.
"Hurry! Hurry!" The Cerean urged. "Sentinel-4: defend!"
"Yes, Maker."
The droid stepped up to put itself between them and the enemy just as the Walker tore through its 'brother' further down the corridor. The mechanical beast reared, screeching, and then leapt forwards; eyeing up its next prey for the briefest of moments. Then it advanced, the laser fire little more than rain against its activated shields. It reared up, bringing its front limbs down onto Sentinel-4, cutting the droid in half.
"Sentinel-3!" The Cerean cried, preparing to send another droid to its untimely death.
The walker stumbled as it tried to advance again, the droid's body caught on one of its limbs; interrupting its fluid movement. It paused to shake itself free and in that moment, the door burst open – leaving a wide enough gap for them to pass through. The clone staggered as he ducked beneath, urging his legs to work even as he gained momentum. Up ahead a shaft of light came in a small window in the ceiling. Daylight! Even as he approached, he gathered his strength in preparation, feeling for the Force and drawing it close around him. And, with a surge of power he turned to face the way they had come, reaching up with both hands. The Cerean and the remaining droids hurried past him, the scientist ducking as if to avoid an attack.
Then the ceiling above groaned and, when it gave way, it was sudden and without warning. The thick durasteel peeled away from the panels, driving down to bar the way. And with it came the earth; great torrents of it so heavy and deep that, for a moment, the Apprentice wondered if the light he had seen had not been daylight at all.
But trapped behind the metal and earth was the Walker, its angry screeching becoming muffled.
Then, at last, daylight poured in followed by clean, damp air and the scent of wet grass.
The Apprentice, with the last of his strength, hauled himself up the mound of debris, his hands and feet sinking into the wet soil and compacting it as he went.
The sun was low in the sky, bleeding color into the horizon. Behind him, the grey clouds that had most likely brought the rain that had made the air so moist, were distant and unthreatening. The clone took another step and staggered, falling to one knee. Behind him he could hear the struggles of the Cerean attempting to claw his way up the earth. Half-turning, he could glimpse the dark shapes of small Imperial ships left on the landing field. Most likely their crews had been killed, or perhaps, for quicker evacuation, all personnel had boarded one craft.
Either way, one of those ships would be their ticket out of here. Maybe there'd even be one with a fully equipped medical bay. Would that be too much to ask for?
He took a sluggish step and then the ground seemed to pitch to the side, throwing him to the ground. With startling speed, his vision receded; his mind lost to darkness.
"We have reached a decision regarding the dark clone." Mon Mothma spoke. She was dressed in a simple white garb, her hands resting one atop the other in her lap. Her eyes, as always, were serious.
Juno shifted nervously, her fingers wrapped tightly around Galen's wrist as he stood, tense and defensive, at her side. He was clearly prepared for an argument and she worried about the consequences if he lost his temper yet again.
"We have agreed to follow up the lead you discovered on the Pellezara Station." Mon Mothma continued. "We cannot ignore the possible threat he poses, neither can we waste the effort you went to in order to recover this information."
Galen's brows lifted very slightly in surprise and Juno offered Mothma a relieved smile. "Thank you, Senator."
The older woman inclined her head briefly.
"Wait." Galen stepped forward and Juno's grip instinctively tightened on his wrist. He didn't try to shake her off, but his fingers on that hand curled into a fist. "That's all very well, but what exactly do you plan to do with the information that you find on him?"
"That will depend on the extent of the information gathered. If you mean: 'will we be keeping you in the loop', then my answer can be neither a yes or a no. There may be nothing of much worth to pass on to you, or the situation may make sharing details with you impossible."
"If he needs dealing with, I'm the only one who has the power to face him."
"Of that I am well aware. Rest assured, you will be informed if it comes to that."
Galen didn't look convinced but he seemed willing to drop the argument – for the time being at least.
"Am I right in assuming you will co-operate with the Alliance?"
"So long as you keep your end of the bargain." He replied swiftly.
"We have already sent word to our spies located on Fondor." Mothma rebuked bitingly.
Galen turned querying eyes to Juno but she gave him a pointed look. He had to be the one to make the decision, not her. He could choose to trust and put his vengeance to one side, or he could choose to pursue it now, without the aid of the Rebels. Either way she would side with him, but it needed to be him who chose their path.
Realizing that Juno had no intention of speaking, his eyes snapped back to the face of the older woman. Then, after a long moment, he gave a sharp nod. "You have our allegiance, then." The words seemed bitter on his tongue and he was clearly still torn.
"Very well, then." The Senator rose from her chair in one fluid, elegant movement. The fabric of her gown rustled softly. "You will accompany the Armistice to Corellia and await further instruction."
Juno sighed quietly. It was an alliance, then, but an unsteady one. "Understood."
Mon Mothma looked as if she wanted to say more; perhaps a warning for them to behave. That they were on their very last chance. Whatever she had been thinking she clearly thought it better not to speak it. With her usual decorum, she waited for them to depart.
Without another word, Galen turned to leave, his hand snagging Juno's to pull her along at his side once they were in the corridor, hastening away from the room as quickly as possible.
"You know I would have supported you no matter what decision you made, don't you?" Juno asked, worried.
"I know."
"You're already regretting it, though? The decision you made?"
He shook his head. "Both choices came with regret."
Juno's eyes softened with understanding. "I can't disagree with that."
He squeezed her hand tightly and she shifted closer to him, hugging his arm tightly to her side. Whatever happened would happen, but they would face it together.
To be continued...
Next update: 25th February