NOVEL WEB Chapter 5: Sacrifice
A Living Nightmare
Chapter 5: Sacrifice
"The Jedi... The Sith... You don't get it, do you? To the Galaxy, they're the same thing: Men and women with too much power, squabbling over religion, while the rest of us burn!"
Location: Coruscant - The Sith Shrine
The three days that I had been trapped in that damned shrine passed by in the blink of an eye. During that time, much transpired. I took to asking the Sith Holocron, or rather the personality imprint of a Sith, quite a few questions. Things like who created it, how many years ago, how long had it been in this shrine, questions of that nature to sate my curiosity during down time between sessions. It said that due to the age and degradation of its parts, its functions were failing rapidly. The surge of energy after being activated caused a few wires to be fried and it did not recall much aside from the teachings that were banked away.
Thus, we expedited the basics of the training, foregoing the aptitude tests with the Force, and focused solely on grander subjects. Survival, techniques to empower your body with the Force, poison resistances, breathe control and similar subjects to at least get me started on the right track.
Where my body failed, the Force could shore up the difference. I had yet to sleep, choosing to meditate in short bursts as instructed. There had been times where I felt myself dozing off, fragments of dreams appearing as I closed my eyes but the Holocron was there to startle me awake the first attempts at meditation.
Oddly enough, it worked.
Unlike the Jedi who strived to keep themselves at peace, the Sith focused inwards, plucking at their emotions like strings on an instrument to weave together a song of intense emotions. My hunger, the pain from the still healing saber wound, my frustration with the vague assistance of the Sith Holocron kept me going. Anger came quickly to me, always had but I knew better than to let it rule my actions, but now with the Force I could channel it into something, well definitely not something good. Just something.
My eyes were closed, the saber hilt floating in front of me as I carefully deconstructed it piece by agonizing piece.
The crystal within it felt alive, full of energies that were barely contained. It was part of my final instruction to pry that Jedi's crystal from the casing and break it. To bleed that crystal into the weapon of a Sith, though I don't think Emperor Palpatine or Darth Vader would enjoy that idea.
The Sith spoke, clear and with a patience unexpected of a Sith. "The parts of a lightsaber are easily removed, it is the crystal that will refuse you. It was not yours, it belonged to someone long dead. It remembers the one it chose, and thus you must bend it to your will. Break the bond, use the Dark Side and it will be yours."
I unwove the lightsaber delicately, stripping bolts, screws and the few clasps that kept it together. It was a simple design and as a whole was well put together and not too, too difficult to separate. My mind's eye held the metal pieces floating in the air as I twisted and pulled at the final part, splitting it in two. The crystal chamber revealed the prize I sought, and reached for it, Force pulling the small crystal into my hand.
"I understand that bleeding a crystal can be volatile, and dangerous to the surroundings. Will the holocron be safe, do you think?", I asked the Nameless Sith Lord.
When Darth Vader bled the crystal he put in his lightsaber, the thing nearly killed him. But, when Daggan Gera bled his yellow crystal, it happened quickly, with minimal energy output. I was hoping my attempt would be more like Daggan's than Vader's. Then again, comics and games are a far cry from what I was dealing with.
"Focus on your goal, I am well protected.", barked the Sith. "No distractions, no questions. Break its chains to that Jedi, and set that kyber crystal free."
I held my tongue. I was focusing just fine, no need for it to be so commanding. Thus, with a clenched hand over the crystal, I emptied myself. I would be a vessel for the Dark Side, and channel all of its fury into it. I slowed my breathing, sensing the world around me, the taint of chilling wrath that stained the walls of this ancient shrine. All to give me focus, to harness it into a strength and power I could never have had before.
The purge began. Visually, I could see the soothing energies of the Jedi still swirling inside the crystal, yet it recoiled as I introduced it to something far worse. Like a cancer, the dark side made it's way into the crystal, corrupting the natural construct bit by bit, molecule by molecule. To me, it was like watching a disease be stripped away, and it was fascinating. I poured more of the Force into the crystal, dust swirling around the room, lightning of blue and red sparking from my hand.
I would have my crystal, and I willed it so. I have a reason for being here, for being in that place. I have a destiny to discover, and I wasn't going to let some measly dead Jedi and his crystal stand in the way of that.
A final push, and a surge of power bursting from the crystal as the last light within it died, as if a last defiant scream in protest and agony. The whirlwind stopped, the lightsaber parts fell to the floor, as I collapsed to the ground, not realizing I had been levitating just a few inches above the stone floor.
In my right hand was a bled crystal, my very own. A satisfied smile crept onto my face as I eagerly looked at the Sith Holocron, and that smile fell.
I could not sense anything from it. I pulled it to me with the Force, the cold glass and metal sending a sting of chill when it came into my hand and confirmed that it was dead. Using the dark side to open it, or trying to simply did not work at all. Whatever powered it had shut down.
"Of course it lied.", I said, putting the broken machine on the ground and placing the crystal next to it. "I suppose for a speedrun, it did its job. Now, let's see if I can put this thing back together."
I looked down at all the saber parts with a frown. The Sith at least helped me get started on taking it apart, and now here I was without it, about to attempt to put it together.
Hope this thing doesn't explode. I think, lifting the crystal up.
Location: Coruscant - Imperial Palace Landing Platform
Tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.
Wet droplets pouring onto the viewport window always mesmerized Fanistra, watching them splatter, some slide and collide with others as they fell, combining into larger, heavier droplets as they went down thanks to good ol' gravity. It was a past time she settled into when bored, waiting for people to come back from wherever they went. Sometimes, they never return. She remembered years ago, watching the rains, waiting for her mother to come home. Imagine her surprise when her oh so angelic mother was found in an alleyway on the lower levels, butchered by some alien scum. It wasn't until years later that her Aunt Dranola would tell her why.
Fanistra looked past the droplets and at the reflection staring back at her. Black hair, pale skin, brown eyes she got from her father, the nose from her mother and the rest of her features were inherited from her as well. It was like walking with a ghost haunting your every move, a constant reminder of what was lost that night. Over spice. Over a damned drug, and now here she was, making momma proud. Waiting. That was the worst part of all her assignments. The anticipation, not knowing what came next.
She had served in the CSF after finishing her education, and tried her best but it didn't fit. It was too dull, even though she loved it. That was why she decided to enlist, to try something different. The basic training was easy, and through exemplary service she got where she was today. It all shared the same underlying reason: she wanted to stop being that pensive, impatient little girl that idolized her druggy mother. First it was through law enforcement, now it was as a member of the 501st.
An esteemed member who sat in the co-pilot seat, waiting for her boss to get back. Rick Dorin, the pilot next to her, was peacefully asleep. He took his little officer hat off and put it over his face to hide the sun. They had been waiting for three days, ordered to stay here, on the shuttle. Darth Vader had gone into the Palace and had not returned, yet. She knew he would come back, but she was curious if that younger man that was with him would return as well. A flash of lightning broke through the clouds, striking a nearby skyscraper's lightning catcher.
He had piqued her interest when she first laid eyes on him, standing there next to Vader in the Star Destroyers shuttle bay. The red case of med pacs was the first thing to catch her attention, then the hastily tailored officer's uniform, minus the code cylinders and proper identifications. It was his eyes that truly captured her attention, she had never seen ones so blue before, they almost glowed. As they went through the debriefing, the standard rigmarole she realized he never once tried to look around, or when he looked towards someone, his eyes never shifted. It was haunting, but telling, he was blind yet his eyes looked functional.
No tell-tale milky film or anything of the sort. It was clear to her that he was someone of interest to Vader, she was hesitant to say importance after that debacle on the walkway days ago.
Poor guy couldn't even see and then he had blasters in his face. She thought, huffing out a sight that fogged up the viewport. She felt a little pity for him, he looked cold, scared even when trying to argue with Vader, now that took some courage for sure. She wouldn't dare, but her relationship with her superior was far different.
She took her orders without question and succeeded every time. She was quite proud of that fact, thinking back to the medal she received after the mess on Herrji VI. She got promoted to Commander, was given charge of her own squad and kept chugging along for two years, going from post to post until arriving here.
Figuring there was no better way to pass the time, Fanistra closed her eyes and let the sounds of the downpour lull her to a restless sleep, taking a page out of Rick Dorin's book.
Tap tap tap.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
Both Imperial Military members woke up with a jolt, Rick tossing his hat against the viewport in confusion, while Fanistra stood up and reached for her holster. They both looked at each other and then to the ship's console. A blue light was flickering on and off, timed together with the ever annoying beeps.
Rick pressed a button on the console and a hologram sprung to life. Another stormtrooper, whose hologram, seemed far more static-filled than they usually are but she realized it was just the rain being caught in the scanner's view.
"They're back," he said.
It was TS-893, his distinctive accent cutting through the voice modulation well enough. He was one of the troopers she kept at the ship to guard it, as Lord Vader commanded, and she ended up joining him after Vader returned from the elevator to the lower levels. All the troopers that escorted the pair were sent back to wait for Darth Vader.
A wave of relief washed over her after hearing that. No more waiting, and she could finally have some proper food when they got back to the ISD.
"Thank you. I'll be out in a moment.", was her genuine response, clicking the hologram off and then swiveling the co-pilot chair.
She grabbed her discarded white helmet from the passenger seat and proceeded to exit the shuttle, giving a silent wave goodbye to Rick as he scrambled to get his hat, and start warming up the ship.
The ramp was lowered already, and the air was colder than it had been, the rain pelting her armor and soaking her body suit underneath. Even with the temperature regulators, it was going to be a few minutes before she felt any warmth. Imperial engineering at its finest.
The rest of her squad had already gathered, and past them, still a few dozen yards away she could make out the black form of Darth Vader leisurely walking to the ship. Next to him, limping a little was the man she joked about executing.
"Come on men, step up, parade line up, I'll greet them.", she ordered, shoving 893 with a playful amount of force. "I'm already sick of rations as it is."
Commander Fanistra, designated ZU-157, made her way through the heavy winds and rain to intercept the two passengers. "Lord Vader, I hope everything went well for your visit." she yelled, raising her voice above the howling winds. "We can depart as soon as you wish."
The caped commander nodded in acknowledgement as she stepped beside him, flanking his left side. She wasn't sure if it would be proper to address the other man, so she made up her mind to just ignore him for now.
It was a few moments before they arrived at the loading ramp, steam and exhaust spurting out from the hydraulics.
The troopers saluted their Commander and her superior. Fanistra continued walking up the ramp, hoping to remove herself from the cold as quickly as possible, and in her post nap, still foggy brain she didn't notice the heavy bootsteps stop.
Yet, a cold burst of fear permeated her being when she heard the last two words of her life.
"Kill them.". Deadpanned Darth Vader. It was an order, with no room for discussion.
An order she had been given many times, a few from Darth Vader. She turned in confusion, that itself turned into realization. That man had not returned empty handed, due to the heavy rain and the poor helmet visibility she had failed to notice the cylinder in his right hand.
Snap-hiss
The crimson blade lit up their white armor, bathing them in a hellish glow. 893 didn't even have a chance to pull his weapon, he was cut down instantly. His shoulder was cleaved into, the blade cutting at angle, following through to his heart and all the way through. Horror crept into the rest of the troopers, realizing too late what was going on.
Though seemingly blind, the man moved to his next target's location quickly, his limp now gone. Fanistra undid the clasp on her holster, and yanked her E-11 rifle out, not caring to undo the collapsible stock. In those few seconds, three of her men were killed, 893 was cut in half, 346 was missing his head, and 062's armor had blaster marks still glowing orange and bubbling the plastics. The remaining three had begun to retreat in order to make some space and keep out of the range of his blade, two of them making their way up the ramp to join their commander, while one maneuvered to get behind the attacker.
She raised her blaster and pulled the trigger as the man with the lightsaber was swinging towards the trooper furthest away. The bolt was stopped with a quick block, stalling the death of one of her men. Several shots were sent from the two now next to her, using the slightly elevated ramp to get better shots.
It didn't matter. Three reflected bolts went into the ship's bulkhead before a fourth found the head of the one to her left. He fell instantly like a puppet without strings. She gripped her blaster and fired more, aiming for the chest.
Behind her target, the trooper she saved stood frozen still, the rain rolling down his armor, the blaster in his hand now slack as he collapsed to his knees.
The shots she fired did nothing, a blur of red swatting them away like yot-flies, and he simply kept walking to her and the other one on the ramp. Shot after shot, until one stray bolt finally deflected into the stormtrooper to her right.
She was alone. Again. And instead of waiting, fruitlessly firing until she died, she ran. Barrel burning hot, she grabbed it like a club and sprinted into the rain. She screamed, all of her life, everything she had done, all her accomplishments, just to die here? To be tossed away and killed.
No. ZU-157 would die on her terms.
Except, this wasn't her world. She had no power to dictate such things. She realized that as her sprint fumbled, and the velocity that she was moving with increased. The man reached out a hand and pulled her towards his waiting blade, readied to strike.
Her lower body slid across the durasteel catwalk, the pooling water making little waves as it did. The top half flopped to its side, giving her a final glimpse at the world.
Darth Vader continued into the ship as the man with the blade turned to the last remaining trooper.
Fanistra prayed in her final seconds of life, numb to the pain as the water fell onto her helmet, that her final squadmate would not have to wait for death.