Author's Note: Dearest readers, I want to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for your ongoing support of this story. Between Fanfiction and Archive of Our Own, a little over 800 readers tuned in for the Season 5 premiere. Thank you for the love and patience you continue to show me. I will continue to do my best to keep this story going and deliver the adventure I want to tell. Some good news in my personal life, I just got my dream job as a performer at Disney so my schedule may be changing in the future. However, as of right now Frozen Force chapters will remain on schedule. Thank you for everything!
With love,
~ Sparks
ADVISORY:
The following chapter contains sensitive material relating to: Murder, intense violence, execution, endangerment of children, burning, war crimes, and violent burglary. Remember to practice self care before, during, and after reading.
Chapter: 122 Vader's Wrath (Part I)
- ACCESSING IMPERIAL NETWORK -
Fortitude: This is Star Destroyer Fortitude to Imperial High Command. We have a report from the Baxel sector.
IHC: Proceed, Fortitude.
Fortitude: We've received a transmission from a civilian on Teth. Arvo Sareel. He's a smalltime local merchant who claims there are two Jedi taking up residence in his village.
IHC: You were right to call. Keep the merchant in custody. A squad will be sent to retrieve him and extract any additional information.
Fortitude: What about the Jedi?
IHC: This is no longer a concern to you. They will be dealt with.
The jungle world of Teth was seldom forgiving to those who ventured to it. Its lush terrain teemed with frightening and mysterious wildlife. The likes of which was often enough to scare off curious explorers. Situated in Wild Space, Teth had been an ideal planet for those seeking to flee conflict. Its isolated surface hadn't seen a firefight since the grueling campaigns of the Clone Wars. Over the years, those who'd chosen to call Teth home had learned to live off of the land. They'd kept to themselves, thriving in villages scattered among several jungle clearings. For many, living on Teth meant getting a fresh start in a rapidly changing galaxy. Others preferred to dwell in their own stagnant uncertainty. Because as long as they stayed far away from the galaxy's most pressing matters, how could any situation possibly befall them?
Crago was known to wandering traders as a useless village, making its nighttime bustle all the more peculiar. The commonly quaint locale was alive with the sound of scrambling inhabitants. It mattered not what race they were, for every villager held a strong connection to their new home. And with that bond came a rising surge of anxiety. Infants wailed from dimly lit hovels while parents rushed to assist. Sandals flopped against the grassy clearing as villagers hauled several baskets out into the center. A woman raised her power cell lamp and illuminated the pile for her companions. Under its fiery glow, the villagers opened baskets and retrieved an arsenal of stored weaponry.
The sharp sound of powered up blasters filled the night as the villagers armed themselves. Republic DCs and Separatist E-5s were quickly thrust into the hands of anxious denizens. The scavenged rifles were yet another reminder of all that had been left behind after the war. Once armed, the various villagers took up defensive positions. While some established a perimeter just outside, others aimed from the windows of their homes. Regardless of where they stood, all eyes and blasters were on the jungle treeline. Firearms clattered in unsteady hands as frightened youth murmured bold affirmations to each other.
An older woman, whose tired eyes were easily forgotten amidst her brawn, made her way to the frontlines. One of the village teens helped her heave a blaster turret into position. They propped the heavy artillery piece against a log and aimed it down the central pathway. Despite additional efforts to assist her, the teen was ushered away as his elder powered up the turret.
Higher up the village's gradual incline, two hooded figures observed the defenses. While one stood tall against the coming storm, its counterpart kept checking their surroundings. "They can't stop this," she whispered. Her tone was sharp and exasperated.
"None of us ever could," the taller figure professed.
"Then this is where we make our stand."
"No-" he was quick to answer as more villagers rallied to defend.
"But they're here for us. If we run-"
"We are not running," the man affirmed. As he turned to face her, the moonlight gleamed against his bearded chin. "There is a difference between fleeing and surviving." Bowing his head, he took her hands in his. "So long as one light lives, hope remains. You are that light, Raya."
"Father?" she worried, raising her head in a panic. "Why are you telling me this? We've made it this long-"
The timid shrieks of several villagers had both Jedi raising their heads to the stars. The daunting, triangular silhouette of a Star Destroyer glided across one of Teth's moons. The dark vessel slid through the night sky like a dreadful blade, striking fear in those on the planet's surface.
"Time is of the essence," Benja asserted. "I'll buy you as much of it as I can-"
"No!" Raya retaliated, nearly choking on the word. "I can't lose you again. Not after all-"
"My child," Benja answered, squeezing her hands. "You will never lose me. For we are bound through the Force. We are the last Guardians of the Jedi Order. If we give in, we condemn the galaxy."
"The Order's gone," Raya murmured.
"I've taught you better than that," Benja asserted. "Our fight makes us who we are. You know where the ship is. Make for the river and don't look back. Do you understand?" Raya took a deep breath and nodded as Benja wiped a tear from her cheek. "The Force is strong with you. The people of the galaxy need you. Don't give up on them." The screech of Imperial landing craft rumbled throughout the night. Benja hurriedly pulled Raya into a firm embrace. She buried her face in the nook of his neck for as long as she could, savoring every moment of his grip. It wouldn't be long enough as he pushed her away. "Now go!" he warned while drawing a blaster pistol from his belt. Raya took off, stumbling at first as she dashed from the village. "I love you, my dewdrop!" she heard her father shout, his voice nearly drowned out by incoming transports.
"I love you," Raya croaked upon exiting the village. As she neared the adjacent jungle, she took one last look back. Imperial ships descended over Teth like dark and thunderous clouds. Even as she feared the worst for her father, Raya trusted her judgement and the Force before proceeding into the darkness.
Benja traversed the incline, surveying the village defenses. "Gosana," he beckoned. "How are we looking?"
"Gunners are in place," a stout woman replied. Cocking her blaster rifle, she pulled back her curly locks and nodded to the Jedi. She brought her voice down to a whisper as to not weaken the group's faltering morale further. "I don't know how long we can hold them."
"For as long as we can." Benja sighed, realizing what everyone who'd stayed had signed up for. "It's not too late to back out of this."
"Oh please," Gosana scoffed. "Jedi or not, haven't we lived enough years looking over our shoulders? We flee now and it'll just be the same somewhere else."
Benja nodded solemnly at the realization and peered towards a makeshift barricade. His heart sank at the sight of a young boy barely holding his rifle. "Gosana," he whispered sharply. "I thought we said no kids."
"I'm afraid Telli insisted," Gosana murmured, holding her position.
Benja huffed and approached the boy. The blaster rifle was almost bigger than he was. Its colossal barrel rattled in his trembling palms. Benja knelt before the child and put an arm around his shoulder. Merely touching him was enough for the Jedi to sense his overwhelming anxiety. "I'm alright," Telli was quick to affirm. "J-just...a little nervous."
Realizing there was no talking the boy out of fighting, Benja brought his other hand to the rifle. He helped firmly press Telli's to the grip. His dark eyes widened atop his sniffling, button nose. And yet despite his nerves, Telli found calmness in the Jedi's assistance. "The Force is with you," Benja told him.
"Here they come!" the elder at the turret hollered. She steadied her grip on the weapon while everyone stiffened.
"Movement at the treeline!" a man warned his fellow villagers. A common hunter to the people of Crago, he'd taken up a sniper position atop the roof of his home. He adjusted his rifle's scope as four figures emerged from the shadows.
An Imperial officer came forth, his inky uniform making him blend with the shadows of the forest. With a wave of his arm, he heralded the arrival of two stormtroopers escorting a civilian.
"Arvo?" the hunter whispered while zooming in. "They've got Arvo!"
The defenders mumbled amongst themselves while the officer nodded to Arvo. The adolescent had received anything but 'hospitable' Imperial treatment. Cuts and bruises lined his face as he hobbled closer to the village. "Tell them," the officer demanded when nodding wasn't enough.
Shivering and nearly out of breath, Arvo spoke up. "G-guys." He felt one of the stormtroopers' rifles nudge his back and he raised his voice. "Guys! It's me! Just give up the Jedi and they'll let us all live!"
"Arvo, you kriffing traitor!" Gosana screeched from behind the barricade. Her jeer was accompanied by a barrage of similar insults. "You brought them straight to us! They'll kill us all anyway!"
Arvo gulped as the villagers retaliated. He turned with widened eyes as the officer hissed through gritted teeth, "You said they would cooperate."
"I-I can get them to," Arvo assured. "I j-j-just need more time!" He flailed his arms towards the village. "If you surrender, the Empire will treat you-"
In that instant, a single blue laser darted through Arvo's chest. By the time his body struck the dirt, the hunter was already firing at the stormtrooper behind him. "We will never surrender!" The hunter howled as his fellow villagers roared.
The officer and his remaining trooper fell back behind the treeline. Sneering and still catching his breath, he reached for his comlink. "All units," the officer commanded. "Begin attack. Take that hill and crush them."
A tumultuous rumble echoed from beyond the trees. The high canopies rustled, sending birds fleeing towards to the stars. The muffled shouts of incoming troopers were hastily drowned out by a steady set of marches. The trees shook and a frigid breeze made its way to Crago. Its deathly chill gripped those within, and had Telli shaking all over again. "The F-Force is with m-me," he shivered while steadying his weapon. "The Force is with me."
"Where the hell are they," Gosana muttered, keeping her blaster aimed at the darkness.
The elder gunner kept a firm grip on her turret. She gently swayed it across the treeline and was ready to open fire at the first sign movement. "Be ready on that ammo, boy." She told the youth beside her. "Once the Imps charge, we don't stop firing until every single one is dead. Got it?" He nodded swiftly as she squinted towards the trees. While she focused on the left flank, a shot rang out from the right. The sniper blast struck the elder in her shoulder, causing her to slouch back in agony. She howled in pain, firing the turret at the trees in retaliation. It mattered not how strong she was, for the blaster bolt had already seared its way through her flesh. The deep strike was scorching through nerve tissue and causing her to fall further back. Her sporadic bursts caused other villagers to open fire in a panic. Only then did the Imperials truly make their move.
The villager's poor defenses were met by a unified, scarlet barrage. Swift lasers darted through the trees, meeting their marks and sending people into a panic. The screams of those dying had some defenders breaking formation while others desperately held the line. The elder at the turret desperately tried to steady herself, but the wound was hindering her further. "Help me, boy!" she grunted while heaving the mighty weapon. The duo rushed to reposition the gun, only to endure several blastershots across their bodies. Their deaths paved the way for an Imperial advance as a wave of stormtroopers charged from the shadows.
"Attack!" the officer reiterated, thrusting a gloved hand forward.
Using their pale and contrasting armor to his advantage, the hunter began picking off stormtroopers. His high-powered rifle clacked with each shot he sent zipping into a foe. Gosana slid to a closer barricade, providing extra support for the young Telli. "Imperial bastards!" she growled while shooting down to them. Frightened yet still willing to carry on, Telli blindly fired over the makeshift wall. "Hold the line!"
Benja shifted across the incline as the firefight raged on. His breaths quickened while his hooded head swayed across the battlefield. He searched for any gaps in their defense and rushed to plug them. Leaping towards a fallen villager, he took over the position and gunned down two troopers. Benja then rushed to the rightmost position where defenses were also crumbling. While he sought to eliminate troopers there with ease, Benja didn't anticipate the number of which they had amassed. He blasted a single stormtrooper before being forced down into cover. Benja gritted his teeth, flinching as lasers bombarded the barricade in front of him.
Relief took hold as a heavy blast buzzed overhead. The crunch of plastoid sounded as the hunter met his mark, shooting a stormtrooper directly in his head. "Sniper!" another trooper called before they shifted to regroup. The suppressive fire allowed Benja to emerge from cover and take the fight to them. With the Imperial advance on the run, Benja glanced back at the hunter and nodded. Watching the Jedi through his scope, the hunter responded with a brief salute. He was then quick to return to his defensive position.
Years of hunting elusive jungle creatures had only honed the hunter's skills. He slid his rifle across the rooftop with swift precision, ensuring that his next shot would meet its mark. Firing, he watched another stormtrooper collapse in his crosshairs. Swaying his scope along the treeline, he spotted another trooper emerging and fired into her torso. The hunter recharged his rifle as a series of heavy clanks echoed amid the firefight. By the time he peered through his scope once more, the source of such a horrid sound was in his sights.
Palm trees snapped beneath a pair of metallic feet. These clanging stomps were guided by long, yet fairly thin legs stretching towards the canopy. Once the sniper noticed the mounted blaster cannons, it was all too late. His eyes widened from beyond the scope while his enemy fired. "Walker!" was all he could scream before two heavy lasers beamed directly into his home. Benja and his companions watched in horror as the explosive shots set their target ablaze. Wood splintered while straw crackled into an ongoing inferno. The hunter's silhouette disappeared in a morbid flash as the blast wiped him from existence.
His death beckoned the Imperial advance as the walker led charge. Designed for recon and troop support, the "All Terrain Scout Transport" was a formidable vehicle. Just the sight of such an imposing, bipedal piece of machinery stomping towards them was enough to have some villagers running for their lives. The AT-ST fired indiscriminately, blasting through barricades and sending debris splintering into people. Their screams echoed throughout the night while other villagers attempted to bring the walker down. Blasterfire sizzled against its armored plating while it stomped onward. With the villagers on the run, the AT-ST launched several grenades over the hill. The ensuing blasts caused greater panic and made villagers scatter directly into stormtrooper fire. Having regained the advantage, the commanding officer moved up to join the battle as well. Staying behind his stormtroopers, he drew his pistol and fired several shots up the hill.
Gosana hobbled beneath a thick cloud of smoke. She kept dragging one of her fellow villagers out of the blast zone, but quickly realized that he had become significantly lighter. Despair clashed with shock when she realized the survivor had been blown apart from the waist down. Dropping what remained of the corpse, she shook her head in grief until Benja snatched her arm.
"Gosana!" he shouted over the blasterfire. "Pull everyone back! Get them out of Crago and to the cliffside monasteries. I'll buy you what time I can."
"Benja," she coughed.
"Just go!" he urged and pushed her behind him. The elder caught his breath as the AT-ST's tremendous stomps loudened. Readying himself, he holstered his blaster and reached for something beneath his cloak.
"The insurgents are in full retreat," the AT-ST driver called in to his commanding officer. "Victory is ours."
"Not yet," the officer hissed through his comlink. "I said crush them. Proceed into the village and destroy every dwelling."
"Copy that," the driver affirmed until his vehicle came to a complete stop. Despite pushing the controls fully forward, the AT-ST didn't budge. "System's are failing," the driver told his gunner. "Divert laser power to mobility and-"
"Sir!" the gunner gasped, peering out of the AT-ST's eyelike viewport. The driver mirrored his gesture, and observed a hooded silhouette in the billowing smoke. This mysterious figure kept one of its hands stretched towards the AT-ST, and used the Force to hold it in place. With a swift pull, it redirected the daunting vehicle to pivot away from the villagers. And as it clanked towards the figure, a blue lightsaber ignited amid the smoke. Its bright beam was as much a symbol of hope as it was one of fear. Many Imperials had only heard stories of the 'Fallen Order' and stiffened upon seeing one of its members.
"All t- troopers," the officer murmured, battling disbelief himself. "Engage the...Jedi."
Age wouldn't hinder Benja's sense of duty as the Imperial's attacked. His goal of drawing their fire had succeeded as he leapt into the fray. Darting through the smoke, he swept his blade across advancing stormtroopers. With a swift strike, his saber slashed across a foe's chest. Spinning upwards, Benja blocked incoming blasts and severed a trooper's arm in the process. The AT-ST fired its cannons, making Benja frontflip towards a ravaged home. The vehicle merely swiveled and launched another cluster of grenades at him. Acting quickly, Benja used the Force to redirect the explosives into a group of stormtroopers. The ensuing blasts sent fragments of plastoid scattering into the night.
"I've lost visual!" the gunner warned as fragments spewed towards the viewports. The AT-ST's driver pushed them forward, hoping to clear their position. The gunner leaned outward while keeping his hands on the triggers, desperate for a shot. But when the smoke cleared, Benja immediately lunged from underneath. Slashing with his saber, he severed both of the AT-ST's legs. As Benja tumbled out of the way, he watched as the upper apparatus collapsed without support. What the driver hadn't realized, was that Benja had walked the craft directly towards the first home it had destroyed. As the remnants of the AT-ST fell, its occupants were engulfed in the very flames they'd created.
The inferno was spreading throughout the village, turning a once quaint scene into a dreadful hellscape. Yet despite this fiery experience, Benja suddenly felt insurmountably cold. There was a chill in the air that was nearly paralyzing. The likes of which had him clasping his chest as he turned towards the fire. Beyond the ruined home and damaged AT-ST stood a lone...dark silhouette.
This solitary being was unfazed by the fires around it. Its cloaked frame loomed closer, rising from the flames like an otherworldly demon. As Benja stared the entity down, he kept a firm grip on his saber and held his ground. The being had enhanced abilities, leaping from the AT-ST wreckage to Benja's position. Its jet black boots struck the ashy soil with a thud, paving the way for a well-pressed cape. Versatile mesh combined with a shadowy chestplate, whose pauldrons sported the Imperial emblem. Any hope for a living being was gone, as this entity's face was shrouded by a soulless helmet. This sleek apparatus would've been entirely black, had it not been for a narrow...crimson visor along its center. Small, yet sharp tips resembling horns protruded from each side of the visor.
The terrible foe wasted little time and gave Benja nothing more than a chilling head tilt. The Jedi watched as its gloved hand unclipped a lightsaber unlike any other. The dark hilt was encapsulated around a silver-plated disc of some sort. Of which had Benja raising a bewildered brow. With a flick of its wrist, the foe switched its saber's configuration. The disc clicked into a half-crescent shape, and the seemingly double-bladed saber only activated on one side. A single, blood-red beam pulsed from the hilt and the attacker lunged.
Benja was quick to defend, raising his blade to meet the Darksider head on. Blue plasma sparked against red as the flames swirled around them. Three parries in and Benja's age was being challenged. His opponent was well-trained, and youthful enough to keep up high-intensity strikes. Benja attempted to put some distance between them, and raised his hand for a Force push. His action was negated by his enemy's Force push, who sought to overwhelm him. The Darksider's gloved hand trembled with rage as he sent Benja back.
As the Jedi tumbled against the dirt, he raised his head to a chilling sight. While his primary opponent remained, two more of similar uniform emerged from the flames. While one flanked from the side, the third lingered behind to ensure Benja couldn't retreat. His heart raced as he realized that the stories he'd heard over the years were true. The Inquisitors were real.
Numerous and ravenous, the infamous Jedi hunters had finally tracked him down. No matter what it meant for him, Benja had to ensure that they didn't get to Raya. Flourishing his lightsaber into a bold, offensive position, he dared to speak up. "The Force is with me," he declared.
Upon hearing his declaration, the other two Inquisitors activated their lightsabers. Contrary to the first, they each used their double-bladed configurations. Unafraid of the immense opposition, Benja took on all three. He started with a swift Force push to the ground, kicking up dirt and ash towards his enemies. With the area shrouded, he moved in on the nearest Inquisitor. While he had a clear strike, the other two were quick to put him back on defense. Benja's eyes were wide with anxiety as a flurry of red sabers came swishing at him. He weaved between each attack, searching for an opening amidst them all.
Realizing his best bet would be the single-bladed Inquisitor, Benja Force-pushed the ground again. He rushed forward through the next ash cloud and picked his target. While Benja's window was small, he was able to land several hits against the first Inquisitor. His enemy's momentum faltered, giving Benja a moment to kick the Inquisitor in the knee. A distorted grunt emanated from the horned helmet as the Darksider buckled forward. Recovering from the ash cloud, the other two Inquisitors advanced to help their partner. Knowing he was out of time, Benja siezed his opportunity and got one hit in before the others put him back on the defensive. The Jedi's blade had met its mark, striking that first Inquisitor across the head.
There was a bright flash as sparks flared from the helmet. Its nearly airtight seal severed as the Inquisitor fell back. The distorted voice cleared up, breathing in Teth's smoky air. Scorching pain emanated from sizzling, pale flesh as the Inquisitor briefly writhed. The sounds of saber dueling became a blur to him as he struggled to rise. His cheeks felt as though they were on fire and he hissed at the ongoing pain. Had it not been for the bulky helmet, Benja's saber would've likely sliced his head clean in half. Unable to fully assess the damage, the Inquisitor angrily ripped off the rest of his helmet.
The broken gear clunked to the ground as he caught his breath. The smell of burnt flesh was only halted by swelling around his nose. And hanging his head only hindered any hope of recovery. Any attempt to recompose himself was met only by the sounds of chaos around him. And this chaos...this ongoing fury...only furthered his madness. Hunching over the crisp terrain, he gritted his teeth. Thick globs of sweat had his hanging, auburn tresses sticking to his face. Yet as he slowly lifted his head, they fell back...revealing the brightness of his corrupted yellow eyes. Recovering his lightsaber and embracing his suffering, Hans returned to the fight. Only this time, he'd activate both sides of his weapon.
There was a heaviness to Hans' step as he dragged his double-bladed saber. He took his time, waiting for his partners to weaken Benja along the way. And gathering his rage, feeling his pain...Hans unleashed a Force push. The burst was strong enough to dishevel Benja and the other Inquisitors. It cleared the way for Hans to take charge, leaping in with his saber in a new setting. Under this configuration, he made the blade spin rapidly across its disc. It struck heavily, battering against Benja's lone weapon. The tired Jedi had never seen anything like it, and was unprepared for Hans' ongoing intensity. The other two Inquisitors watched as Hans backed Benja against the exploded home. The elder's knees weakened as Hans switched settings once more. While keeping the double blade, he reduced spinning to constantly slam down on Benja. There was a distinct brutality to Hans' strikes, each accompanied by a ferocious growl. His shadow swung among the flames as the blade painted his face in a bloody red. Benja called upon the Force to guide him in the defense. And yet as his strength faltered, his mind wandered elsewhere. He thought not of the Living Force nor the devotion to a cause he'd preached so deeply about. Instead, his heart called him to another image. The Jedi's wrist tightened as Hans broke through his defense. So Benja closed his eyes and saw Raya. She was alive and well. Safe in a reality that could bring him one last smile.
Benja's extinguished saber plummeted into a heap of ashes. His lifeless hand collapsed beside it as Hans concluded his ferocious strike. With flared nostrils and gritted teeth, Hans straightened his posture. Deactivating his lightsaber, he didn't give the fallen Jedi another moment of his time.
As Raya departed from Teth's atmosphere, she endured a dreadful sinking feeling in her chest. Her hands eased up on the ship's controls as her breaths shortened. A tremor in the Force reached her, and it was as if someone had ripped out her very heart. As she tried to steady her breaths, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
While Benja had succeeded in buying time for his daughter to get offworld, the rest of Crago's inhabitants would not be so fortunate. The surviving stormtroopers captured the villagers and gathered them for questioning. Sweaty and shivering betwixt their burning village, the captives remained silent. As stormtroopers flanked the prisoners, their commanding officer had them lined up. He stood at attention when Hans and the other two Inquisitors arrived. Despite his rank, the young officer's voice trembled in the presence of such imposing Darksiders.
"This is...everyone," he declared.
Hans sneered and turned his attention to the captives. The saber wound had dulled into a prominent, cauterized scar across his face. He used its stinging pain to stoke his anger as he glared at the prisoners, preying on their fears. "Your Jedi-" he brayed and watched them shudder. "-is dead." He raised Benja's lightsaber and eyed the villager who'd trembled the most. He stepped towards Telli, and the youth swallowed hard. Hans dropped Benja's saber to the ground like common trash. "Some of you were stupid enough to die for him. One of you...was brave enough make this report." Hans stepped away, and paced over to the leftmost side of the lineup. "A report...which said there were two Jedi. An older male-" Hans snarked and gestured to the discarded lightsaber. His sinister, yellow gaze returned to the prisoners. "-and a younger woman. Late twenties...early thirties perhaps?" His glare fixated on the women in line. "Surely a brave Jedi wouldn't cower among civilians."
Their unresponsiveness had Hans' eye twitching. Impatient, he forcefully withdrew the officer's pistol from his holster. Priming it, he aimed the weapon at the first man in line. While the farmer was frightened, he was too stunned to budge. "Where is the Jedi?" Hans asked. The farmer was barely given five seconds to answer before he pulled the trigger. The high-pitched shot rang out and sent the captives into a panicked frenzy. "Too slow." Hans didn't waste a moment to step over the farmer's body and move to the next.
Tears streamed down young Telli's face as Hans aimed the still-smoking blaster at his forehead. "Where is the Jedi?" Hans growled. Telli was too anxious to even breathe let alone utter a word.
As Hans prepared to pull the trigger, a woman's voice roared. "I am the Jedi!" He lowered his pistol as Gosana stood tall. The stout villager quaked within, yet did her best not to show it. Disbelief pried at Hans as he inched towards her.
"I-...I am the Jedi," a young lady several persons down said.
"I am the Jedi!" called out a Twi'lek, her lekku quivering with anger as she shouted her declaration.
"Te nichta Jedi!" a Rodian dared to add her voice.
Hans' lip twitched in frustration over their boisterous shouting. His gaze fell back on Gosana, who stared him down while shouting with her village sisters in solidarity. Hans scoffed and handed the pistol back to the officer. "Have your men sweep the jungle and then pack it up. We'll conclude with a bombing run if anything's left."
"It will be done," the officer saluted. "I'll have the prisoners taken to your ship for further question-" He stammered as Hans came to a halt.
"Did I say I wanted the prisoners?" Hans murmured.
The officer felt as though all color had drained from his face and that his collar was tightening by the minute. "N-no sir."
"Execute them," Hans commanded before marching off with the other two Inquisitors.
His words had some of the villagers panicking while others stood tall. The woman continued their chant, proclaiming themselves to be Jedi as Gosana squeezed Telli's hand. Any timidity in the officer's eyes faded as he dehumanized those standing before him. "On my command," he ordered as the stormtroopers took aim. "Fire!" A flurry of blaster bolts lit up the hill as silence came upon the rainforest. And as the Imperial presence departed, what remained of the brave few would soon be reduced to ashes amid the village inferno.
As an Inquisitor, the hunt would never end. For Hans, this meant tracking Jedi survivors across the furthest reaches of the galaxy and snuffing them out. Sometimes the reports proved fruitful. Others, they were just panicking Imperials jumping at shadows. And who could blame a society raised to believe that the once great Jedi had betrayed Republic. Yet no matter the call, Hans and so many other Inquisitors would answer. It was their bidding. Their sole purpose. To destroy the Jedi Order once and for all. Years of the hunt had taken its toll, and Hans had seen planets as more of an inconvenience aside from anything else. He barely felt space travel anymore, and the only semblance of home he could embrace would be that of Fortress Inquisitorius.
Heralded by a familiar set of coordinates and guarded by a massive fleet of Star Destroyers, the fortress was located on the dark moon of Nur. This ocean-rich world would've been scenic to the untrained eye. But for those who called it home, it was an isolated piece of familiarity. A dull scape of endless waves, whose only point of difference was met by a dreadful structure. This piercing monument stretched beyond the seas like a haunting obelisk, casting a dark silhouette over the water. Despite Nur's oceans seeming similar in every direction, Hans always knew when they were approaching Fortress Inquisitorius. The stronghold's industrial turbines would cause irregularities in the water, prompting whirlpools to form along the surface. Hans didn't feel their transport dock in the sleek and salty hangar, for he was already eager to disembark. If he saw another stormtrooper standing guard at a checkpoint, he was almost tempted to kill them out of spite.
Stepping off of the ramp, Hans and his fellow inquisitors reported for debrief. In his earlier years of Imperial service, being without a helmet would've fazed him. Instead, he'd come to understand that his superiors cared little for uniformity. All of the Empire's flashiness was but a gesture of strength to keep the weak in place and the patriotic stupidly involved. The Empire just wanted to hear that the job was done and nothing more. Failure was the only intolerance. Hans sneered, running a gloved finger across the aching wound on his face. Scoffing at it, he continued on his way past droves of Imperial technicians. Although his hunts took him to great lengths across the galaxy, he couldn't imagine being a stormtrooper at the fortress. To be constantly guarding a stationary structure in the middle of the ocean would drive him to madness.
If there was one thing the Empire never seemed to run out of, it was things for Hans to hate. Inspections and checkpoints were so profuse, that by the time they got to the debriefing room...Hans was expecting a full body search. He lumbered into an oblong chamber, whose turquoise lights almost gave off the impression of being underwater. Hans dropped into his favored, rightmost seat while the other two inquisitors sat beside him. An officer entered the room, his eyes tired from hours of data crunching.
Hans had learned to stop caring about what any of the officers looked like. It was a new and forgettable face every time he'd returned to the fortress. The Empire was cycling through staff faster than anyone could keep up with, and Hans gave less of a damn each time. In turn, the officers had learned to pass on information to the Inquisitors and simply leave them to it.
The tired youth tried not to look bored with the Inquisitors in the room. He stifled a yawn and hurriedly removed a datadisc. Eager to get back to his office, he inserted it into the central holoprojector. The apparatus lit up as a series of wavelengths bounced while someone spoke. Although the voice was deep and distorted, it was enough to garner the Inquisitors' attention. They sat upward as Imperial High Command spoke up.
"There has been a new development," IHC said. The Empire had already taken information from their mission to Teth and processed it. Benja's death was old news and it was on to the next mission. Used to this process, none of the Inquisitors even flinched. "Another search party has been attacked on Dantooine."
"That makes what?...Three attacks there now?" one of the Inquisitors deduced. The Avinarian's taloned feet tapped at the floor while he pondered.
Hans rolled his eyes while IHC didn't even humor the comment. "One surviving officer managed to make it offworld," it said. "Once she contacted the closest Imperial command center, she was rescued...and able to give a detailed description of one attacker. Female. Late thirties. Was wearing a hood, but appeared to have red hair." No matter how much time had passed, small details always brought Hans back to familiar memories. His lip briefly quivered, merely thinking of red-haired women in his life. Those lips parted when IHC added freckles to the description. Hans' brows furrowed as he turned his attention to the bouncing wavelength. "Blue eyes," IHC concluded. "The attacker was able to lift the officer with...'powers' and was seen wielding a lightsaber. Green in color."
Each detail had Hans' heart thundering. He slowly rose from his seat, putting the pieces together. "I-" he barely croaked the word. "I-I'll take it."
"There is more to the statement," the officer asserted.
"Have it downloaded to my personal datapad," Hans asserted.
"But protocol-"
"She's mine!" Hans growled and stomped forward. Shoving past the stormtrooper guarding the door, he traversed the cramped corridors and made his way to the Inquisitors' Wing. Returning to his personal quarters, he angrily sealed the chamber behind him. Hanging up his cape and snapping off his gloves, Hans dropped against the edge of his bland bed. His narrow room was no bigger than a prison cell and looked as though it was collapsing in on itself. Hans glared at the overhead fixtures, which bathed his room in a constant...dark crimson light. The simple fragments of Imperial High Command's description came together in his mind, forming a face he hadn't seen in years.
Her passionate blue eyes. Her valiant red tresses. That lightsaber. Any sliver of doubt was blinded as he doubled down on his memory. It's her, he thought. It has to be...Anna.
Hans peered down at his bare hands, both of which were lined with rows of intricate burn scars. While he'd grown accustomed to the numbness of such pain, the face associated with that fateful night burned brightly in his mind. "The-" he whispered to himself. "The ship's coming."
18 YEARS EARLIER
"The ship's coming!" Anna hollered. "Get ready to jump, babe!" Hans peered over his shoulder and observed the encroaching ship. The corvette's ramp lowered amid the smoke, all while the verandah continued to collapse. "It's now or never."
"Jump for it!" Hans growled as he and Anna sprung towards the ramp. While Anna had a solid surface to jump from, Hans barely had any leverage using his lightsaber alone. As a result, she struck the ramp while Hans missed it entirely.
"No!" Anna screamed and narrowly caught his hand. The sheer force of his jump caused her to nearly fall from catching him. Sven would've picked them up, but incoming fire from clones forced the Cevrian to engage. He snorted profusely, urging the Jedi to climb so they could take off.
"Don't let go!" Hans panicked. "I'm slipping!"
"I'm trying!" Anna grunted, her fingers digging into the ramp's edge. "Reach up! I can't hold you!"
"Sure you can," Hans grunted. "I know you can! Pull me up!" His desperation turned to anger. "Anna!"
"I'm trying!" Anna wailed.
"Kriffing help me! Help me-"
A sharp crackle flickered across Hans' back. The bright shot had Hans' eyes widened as his grip on Anna loosened. "H-H-Hans?" Anna worried. Reality sunk in as she observed the smoking blaster wound in his back. "No no. Hans. Look at me. Hold on. I'm pulling. I'm not letting go. Don't let go of me. Don't you let-" Hans' gaze softened...Not out of disbelief, but heartbreak. And that pain seared its way into Anna's mind as he slipped out of her grasp. "Hans!" Anna screamed, watching his limp body plummet. He fell beyond the rubble, becoming engulfed and shrouded in flames. Flailing his arms out of sheer instinct, Hans struck several objects that were mere blurs to him. He tumbled against a collapsed pillar on the Jedi Temple's lower level and rolled against the tiles.
Dazed from the fall and aching from the wound in his back, Hans could hardly move. His head gently rolled against the ravaged ground as he gazed upward. A chunk of the temple's ceiling had been blasted off, granting him a hapless glimpse at the night sky. He watched as Kristoff's corvette soared off without him, carrying Anna along with it. "A-Anna," he gasped, the wind knocked out of him. "No! Please," he coughed. "Don't leave me-"
In that instant, another explosion sounded from the upper level and several pillars collapsed. As more of the temple's structure splintered, a flaming beam fell atop Hans. This crisped chunk of debris kept him pinned as he desperately called upon the Force to help him. Exhausted and injured, Hans felt immobilized under the pressure. Out of desperation, he pressed against the beam in an effort to lift it off of him. Instead, the intense heat from the beam had spread across and scorched his palms. Steam sizzled between Hans' fingers as he screamed in agony. His painful outcry prompted several troopers to hear him and caused a greater panic.
Pinned, shot, and burning, Hans impulsively whimpered as the sounds of clone troopers closed in. "Down here!" one of them alerted.
Hans could hardly pivot his head leftward as a trio of blue-armored clones rounded the corner. They emerged from the flaming debris like reapers to claim is soul. "There!" a clone shouted. "Blast him!"
Suddenly, a lightsaber ignited from Hans' right side. A tall, yet lanky figure charged into battle alongside a stout, yet agile combatant. Their double-bladed, yellow lightsabers became a blur as Hans started to lose consciousness. He tried to keep his gaze focused, all while one Jedi cut down the clone troopers. Meanwhile, the taller figure used the Force to lift the beam pinning Hans. And as the Jedi rushed over to him, his eyes succumbed to darkness.
The smokey air had faded into nothingness. The painful warmth Hans had come to know fled all sensation. In its place came a chilling loneliness. Of which had him shuddering awake in the cold...damp darkness. He had no time for his self loathing traumas, for new dread filled his mind. Survival instincts had Hans bolting upright, only for him to strike his head on a dented pipe. He buckled forward, running his hands through his hair and instantly wincing. The burns on his palms left a phantom sting that had him gasping. The deep, blistering scars across each hand had him rushing to put them down in the darkness. "Where-" he murmured, swaying his gaze across the cramped quarters. "What the-"
"He's awake," a woman called from around the corner. The silhouette of her braided hair swished across a power cell's glow.
"A-Anna?" Hans grumbled until she came fully into view.
The woman's temple guard uniform was burnt and tattered. Its once pristine paleness was now stained with the ashes of the very temple she swore to protect. Looking upon her face, he recalled the distant memories of their banter. How she'd always given him a hard time in Sentinel briefings long ago. Her green stare met his before she eyed the pipe he'd bumped into. "There's a pipe there," she snarked before tending to his head.
"Rika," Hans groaned. "What are you doing here?"
"What does it look like? Surviving." Her dark braid smacked against his face while she parted his hair. "You're not bleeding. You're fine."
Hans swatted her hands away and observed their decrepit surroundings. Mold festered across the ceiling while constant drainage issues contributed to a malodorous stench. "Where the hell are we?" Hans asked.
"The underworld," a deep voice spoke up. If his strident tone wasn't distinct enough, none could mistake his posture for any other's. Hans watched the third survivor tower over them. And while he was tired, he never let it show as he stepped towards the piping systems. The power cell's golden glow juxtapose against his ghostly, Pau'an complexion.
"Utapau," Hans greeted. "Should've known you'd be tough to kill."
"Do not let my stature fool you, Westgard," the Pau'an said. The edges of his guard uniform were scorched from blaster bolts that had barely missed. "Assumption was always your weakness. The three of us are lucky to be alive. Most of all you."
"Yeah?" Hans scoffed. "Well if you're looking for a thank you, how about we get off Coruscant first."
"I'm afraid that will not be possible," the Pau'an professed. "The capital is under lockdown. Once you passed out, we reached a portal and descended to Level 1313. It will at least buy us time before they search the undercity."
"How'd you escape?" Hans asked.
"Yeah," Rika groused, a scowl tightening on her lips. "How did we?" Disgust festered in her stare as the Pau'an elected to ignore her comment. He started to walk away when she yelled. "Tell him!" The Pau'an paused, never once losing his composure. He glanced back over his shoulder as Rika jabbed a trembling finger. "If he's going to be here, he deserves to know." Hans raised a brow as the Pau'an's silence persisted. "We abandoned our post-" Rika began.
From the moment she started spouting her perspective, the Pau'an spoke up. He furiously spun, raising his voice to match...not to overwhelm. "There was no post to abandon," he clarified. With each heavy word he stepped closer to Rika, letting his figure eclipse the power cell and darken the room. "We were overwhelmed. The troopers gunned down our Sentinel brothers and sisters in droves, leaving only you and I to suffer the same fate."
"They are one with the Force," Rika countered.
"And may that make them feel accomplished," the Pau'an was quick to fire back. "Need I remind you that I did not force you to join me. You chose to leave the temple with me. You chose to accompany me to the speeder."
"The speeder you hijacked!" Rika spat.
"We hijacked," the Pau'an clarified. Despite having jagged teeth, he never once bared them for intimidation. "There wasn't a Jedi among that family so their lives were not on the line. Ours were. The Jedi Order is no more. Search your feelings. We must fend for ourselves." Rika hung her head and angrily scrubbed a tear from her cheek. "We are survivors now. Let the pain you feel carry you."
Rika stepped away and rounded the corner to collect herself. As she did so, Hans took a moment to vouch for her. "She just needs time," he said. "You know how much she loved the Order." He feigned a salute while the Pau'an shook his head.
"And what about you, Westgard? Where do you stand in all of this?"
"Kriff the Order," Hans professed. "They brought this on themselves."
"And yet...I sense deeper anguish within you."
Hans snorted. "Let's just say I didn't think everyone would leave me behind."
"We are all we have now," the Pau'an declared. "Use this time to get your strength back. With how far the undercity goes, they won't initiate searches here for at least several weeks. That will buy us time to find resources and create connections to get offworld."
THREE DAYS LATER
The scarlet markings of the Coruscant Guard were all the more prominent in the undercity. They moved in tight formations, fanning out only at select corners and ransacking homes. In cooperation with the Underworld Police Division, Commander Fox led his men onward. His operation caused quite a stir, catching the attention of passersby. While some preferred to keep their heads down, others dared to glance over at the ruckus. A bystander lifted his smog-filtering goggles and scrubbed his eyes. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of clones this deep into the undercity. Watching them drag people out from the slums to be searched had him frozen with fear. He was so fixated on the event, that he hadn't noticed the pair of gloved hands creeping from the shadows.
His mysterious assailant hurriedly dragged him into an alley and delivered a swift knee to his chest. Knocking the wind clean out of him, all hope of screaming for help faded. As the denizen collapsed forward, the mugger wailed on him until he was rendered a crouched and shivering mess. Only then did the attacker descend, forcefully shoving his hands into any pocket. Worthless trinkets clattered and cracked against the duracrete while a handful of credits emerged. The mugger recovered what money was salvageable before kicking his victim unconscious for good measure. Catching his breath, Hans frustratedly counted the meager amount of credit chips in his palm.
"Kriff," he whispered and stashed the minuscule sum away. The sound of military comms had his head bolting upward. Pressing against the alley wall, he inched his way towards the corner and peeked. Upon seeing the Coruscant Guard, Hans dashed further into the shadows. His dark boots struck a series of inky puddles, kicking up grime and gunk. He shoved past civilians, determined to reach a section of slum consumed by industry. Much of Coruscant's hydro systems flowed through the undercity and gave little consideration to those actually living in it. This resulted in the impoverished camping out under these pipes and quite literally bathing in its drainage. At first glance, it was difficult to distinguish it from a battlefield hospital. The dense population surrounding this disease-ridden watering hole had made for good cover. Or so the Jedi had hoped.
Hans slid down an incline of grated vents and pulled back a gunk-stained tarp. The sudden snap of fabric had his companions peering up from their battered pot of stew. Hans yanked the scarf from his face, revealing the scruff that'd started to build. "Troopers," he panted. "They're here."
"Already?" Rika uttered, her eyes widening while the Pau'an sneered.
Hans nodded. "And a whole kriffing lot of them. They're combing the slums."
The Pau'an didn't speak, and instead kept pensively stirring their stew. Rika, on the other hand, was quick to formulate concepts. "Maybe they're here for something else. Someone else."
"You really wanna take that chance?" Hans scoffed. "We gotta move. Now."
"Move where?" Rika asked. "The city's under lockdown and we have yet to establish a contact to sneak offworld."
"I am not dying in this craphole," Hans countered. Their ally's silence flustered him to the point of adding. "Are you just gonna keep stirring or-"
The Pau'an continued to stir, his piercing gaze fixed on the smoking meal. "We underestimated the Republic's willpower to hunt us down," he said.
"How did it come to this?" Rika sighed. "Jedi hunted like common criminals..."
The Pau'an's stirring came to an end. His glare intensified as the broth settled and a voice returned to haunt him.
"Because I've come to realize what many people in the Republic have come to realize. That the Jedi are the ones responsible for this war! That we've so lost our way that we have become villains in this conflict. That we are the ones that should be put on trial. All of us! And my attack on the temple was an attack on what the Jedi have become. An army fighting for the Dark Side, fallen from the Light that we once held so dear. This Republic is failing! It's only a matter of time."
"It's only a matter of time," the Pau'an whispered, realizing Barriss Offee's words had come to pass. Rising with the steam, he fully spoke to his companions. "The Jedi Order and all it stood for is no more."
"What?" Rika gasped.
"The Light Side was forsaken long before any of us took an oath," the Pau'an continued. "Before the war itself. We were led astray in our youth. But now we have a chance to begin again and think for ourselves."
While Hans remained silent, anger gripped Rika. "Have you lost your senses entirely?" she hissed. "We are Jedi! We can't just give up! After everyone who's died in the name of our Order? All that we've lost?" The Pau'an's silence had her glancing at Hans. "Come on!" she urged.
"Rika," Hans huffed. "He's got a point. Where was the Order when we needed them?"
Rika looked as though she could pluck every black strand from her head in rage. "You're joking! You have to be! The Order gave us all a home! A purpose!"
"Their purpose," the Pau'an specified as Rika shook her head in denial. "If you seek to remain dedicated to your Jedi ways, so be it. But you'll do so alone."
Rika slowly backed away from the tarp, shocked at her so-called companions. "C-cowards," she spat. "Traitors." The sound of trooper comms had her gasping. Taking one last look back at Hans and the Pau'an, Rika fled outside.
Hans took a deep breath and asked, "Now what?"
"Now we wait," the Pau'an insisted before kneeling once more.
"Wait, what?" Hans blurted. "Just let the troopers come?"
The Pau'an nodded. "After all, I'm the one who contacted them." Hans nearly choked at the news. "Do not be so quick to fear," he assured. "I offered information in exchange for our lives."
"You think they'll honor that?" Hans snarked.
"It's the only chance we have," the Pau'an said. "You saw what happened to the temple, Westgard. We can never outrun this. Our only hope is to join the galaxy's next dominant power." The sound of troopers shouting echoed from beyond the tarp. "So if you'd like to increase your chances of survival, I suggest you get on your knees and be still."
Hans did his best to process as much information as he could, but the imminent troopers had his heart pounding. Thinking quickly, he dropped to his knees beside the Pau'an. Within a matter of seconds, Commander Fox and several clones raided the room. Tearing down the tarp, they swayed their blasters across and secured the perimeter.
"Stay down!" Fox commanded as neither Hans nor the Pau'an budged. "Don't you dare move!" He activated his vambrace and hurriedly called in. "I have two of the three targets. Descriptions match up." He waited on a response as a barely audible voice crackled through. Fox nodded to his comms and told the men, "We're taking these two. Find the third."
Time was racing for Hans as his heart pounded in his chest. Several clone silhouettes shifted behind the tarp as they spread out in search of Rika. His curious gaze was brought back only by Fox's pistol. Any form of relief was hardly salvageable as the commander pulled the trigger. The blue-ringed stun blast sent Hans plummeting back into daunting unconsciousness. And as he drifted to such a dark and static state, Rika's word came back to haunt him: Traitor.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading this week's installment of "The Frozen Force." As always, it is an honor and pleasure to entertain you all. I'll see you next week for Chapter: 123 "Vader's Wrath (Part 2)".
Long Live Imagination and May the Force be with You,
~ Sparks