Chapter Eleven

Aedan came out of hyperspace, and immediately reached out with the force and sensed nothing but pain and sorrow and death. He had hoped the clones had been wrong. That it was only a miscommunication or a misunderstanding. Or at the very least, an isolated incident. But the sight below him quickly wiped out that hope. The temple was on fire, smoke billowing from all five spires. His stomach rolled, the nausea coming on quickly.

He landed the sleek fighter on a private landing platform. He moved back into the spacious crew quarters and took off his ripped, torn, and dirtied tunic-he had lost his robe somewhere on Colla. He began searching the closets for suitable items to wear, not expecting to find anything due to the obvious size discrepancy. Plus, Sa'kard seemed to only wear armor. But to his surprise there was an assortment of human clothing. He needed to blend in as best as possible. He found brown leather boots, very much unlike his knee high jedi boots. These were a bit more tactical, but still fashionable. He had to admit he liked them. He found some dark blue pants, a black shirt, and a tan leather jacket. This would all do nicely.

He attached his lightsaber to his newly acquired brown belt, but made sure it was completely covered. Then he began stripping his old utility belt, and placing those items—his rebreather, his glowrod, his comlink, and his beacon transceiver—into the pockets of his jacket.

He exited the ship and paid the docking fee. Had he been using a Jedi datary card, whoever was occupying the temple could potentially track him. But he was using his own credits, the ones left to him by his old master. And those couldn't be tracked.

Blending into the massive crowds of people on Coruscant, he made his way towards the Jedi temple. He had never seen so many clone troopers on patrol in the capital, and such a large and imposing martial presence did not sit well with Aedan, and not because they were looking for him. Such a widespread show of force was meant to scare and enforce—a totally new direction for the republic.

He passed by several patrols and they didn't even give him a second glimpse. He looked like any other Coruscant male with his rugged, fashionable look. He was nearing the temple and could see the black cloud of smoke above and between the surrounding buildings.

Even if he made it inside the temple, how could he erase Kyra from the archive memory? Only a Council member or an archives executive can make changes to the archives.

So, how the frak am I going to do this?

"The force will provide," he heard Qui Gon say. Though that confused him because he didn't know if that voice came from memory, or through the force.

Today was a strange day indeed.

Something beeped in his jacket pocket. He reached in and found that his Jedi Beacon transceiver was activated.

Finally, some information.

A blue, holographic Obi-Wan Kenobi sprung to life from the palm sized disk. Relief swept through him as he saw that his old friend was still alive.

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret... but be strong. We will each be challenged: our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, I believe a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you always."

He nearly dropped the transceiver. He couldn't believe it. It was one thing to hear it from Hoppie, but another to hear it from the one of the wisest masters of the order. And now, telling him to run and hide and, what? Wait? Wait for what? What is there to hope for?

He felt the rage build. Felt the fire begin start to consume him.

He closed his eyes, and he saw her face.

Kyra.

That is enough hope for me.

He opened his eyes and then the force screamed at him. He dropped to the ground as a hail of blasterfire passed over his head. He rolled to his left, got to his feet, and sprinted away. Two squads of clones were hot on his tail. They must have seen the transceiver in his hand. Now every clone on Coruscant would be converging on him.

"Thanks a lot, Obi."

Sprinting through the packed Coruscant street, the thought dawned on him that Obi-Wan had to be at the temple to broadcast that message. He was there right now, and he could help erase Kyra from the archives. That spurred him on, he had to find him. He drew on the force, channeling it to his limbs, lungs, and heart, allowing him to move far faster than any human could run.

He sprinted for a full minute, and knew he had lost those behind him. He turned a corner, right into four more clone troopers. He collided with one, the two of them falling in a heap to the ground. He reacted quickly, and rolled right, dodging blasterfire. He let loose a force push, blasting two of them against the wall, spun in a circle around the extended blaster of another trooper, and hip tossed him to the hard ferrocrete beneath them. He batted the rifle away, and then grabbed the first trooper he literally ran into, ripped off his helmet, and knocked him out with a wicked elbow. Four troopers down. Thousands more to go.

Pain lanced through the back of his left arm, as more blaster bolts sizzled around him. He growled, and then sprinted off. He was fast. But radio transmissions are faster. He ran up streets, through crowds of people, and darted down alleyways, but more and more troopers were converging. With the force he could sense an overwhelming number of troopers descending upon him.

He dashed through one plaza that was still heavily damaged from the attack on coruscant. How had that only been a few days ago. It felt like years. He exited the plaza and ran right onto a walkway, the same walkway that he and Jax Pavan held during the battle. He was halfway across when he realized his mistake.

Dozens of clones rushed toward him on the other side of the walkway. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He skidded to a stop, and sprinted back the other way, but came to another abrupt halt as a full platoon was closing in on him from that end.

He whipped out his lightsaber and ignited it, as the volley of blastefire assaulted him. He could not hold off this many attackers from two opposite sides.

Only one way to go now. He dove off the walkway. The wind instantly ripping at his clothing, face, and hair as he descended. He rushed by the levels as gravity pulled him down. But gravity was not the only force in the universe. He reached out, and began pulling himself toward the edge of the buildings with the one force he did have some influence over. He had fallen nearly a hundred levels already by the time he was nearing the next walkway area, the "Middle-class" section of the upper city. He began pulling harder, slowing his fall. He was so close to the wall now he could reach out and touch the building that he was falling alongside. He could even see individuals through the transparisteel. They stared back at him with wide open mouths for a half second and then he was gone, still falling swiftly.

Another fifty levels and he knew he had to exert a bit more effort, the walkway beneath him was fast approaching. He yanked hard, and felt himself slow down considerably. He continued pulling with one hand outstretched above him, and then thrust one hand down below, executing a force push, and that nearly stopped him in mid-air, and then he fell the final few meters, the force cushioning him. His feet hit, and then he rolled forward, taking away the remaining brunt of the impact.

That should buy him some time. They'd have to take the lifts down over a hundred floors, and then figure out which way he went. His heart sank when he realized Obi-Wan had to be long gone from the temple by now. These clones would have been all over the temple grounds if he was there. He probably sent the message out with a few minutes delay. Smart.

He jogged across the walkway, happy to get a breather.

Then he heard an all too familiar sound. One that used to be marginally uplifting. But now the sound of a LAAT gunship filled him with dread. They'd be on him in seconds. He sprinted across the walkway, and into the nearest tower. He searched for a lift, but no, of course there wasn't a lift in this one.

He sprinted across this floor, which seemed to be a middle-class apartment building. Making it to the end of the building, he entered the next, and then the next. Finally, he found one, and hopped on the elevator down. This was his only option at the time. He had to go to the lower city where patrols were non-existent, where gunships had trouble reaching, and where anyone could get lost.

And he knew this particular area he was heading towards. He had a mission here once, and would remember, forever, the hell hole he was about to step into. However, at the moment, that hellhole was going to be a welcome escape.

The lift doors open, and Aedan Kahl stepped out into the Black Pit Slums.

"Now what the hell do I do?"