MadCap's Fiction Corner - "The Champions of Zobek" (Chapter 12)

The device... worked.

Following Niyasa's instructions, Ziv had been able to get the device working.

"I have no idea how you just did that, but-"

"Trust me, it would take way too long to explain." Calen said to the Neimoidian. "How long do you think it will work?"

"An hour. Maybe two."

"Thereabouts."

"Alright. That ought to be long enough to get to Toph." Calen said.

"... are you crazy?" Ziv asked, his eyes widening.

"I thought this was the plan, wasn't it?" Calen asked. "Get Toph's help."

"If you think this will help..." Ziv said. "But what if you aren't back in time?"

"I'll improvise." Calen said. "Worst thing they can do is kill me."

"... you've never been a prisoner before, have you?"

"I was, once. It didn't agree with me, so I broke out." Calen said.

"With help!"

"I know that." Calen said.

"What? That Zobek is likely to order your head blown off?" Ziv asked.

"Is it ready?" Calen asked.

"Yes." Calen took the device from the Neimoidian's hand, lifting it up to the bump behind his ear. There was a soft beep and a whirring noise. "It's done. The device should be suppressed."

"Good." Calen said. "Now, let's short out the bars and we'll get something done."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Ziv asked. As if to answer, the bars suddenly slid toward the ground, just enough that Calen could slip out.

"Guards are meeting at their break room on patrol. Stick to the shadows. Run!"

"See you later, Ziv." Calen said, ducking into the gap. Just as Niyasa said, the guards were meeting at the break room down the corridor, which meant that Calen was going the other way back toward the arena access and, if he remembered correctly, the lift that would go to Toph's quarters.

"I need to get into the lift."

"I've got you. Go." Calen moved quickly into the now lifeless viewing area, the screen blocking out the view of the arena and leaving the room very dark and very quiet. Every step, he could feel his heart pounding as he was seeing a smirking Hutt or a gnarly Gamorrean in every shadow. Soon enough, though, he reached the lift and the doors to it slid open. Getting on, Calen quickly pressed the button to rise, and the lift did so, sliding up silently with only the safety lights it passed giving any indication that it was moving at all... until the door opened.

The room was well-furnished - couches, tables, and even some works of art. There was also a B-1 series battle droid standing there.

"Uh... you're not supposed to be here."

"...yes, I am."

"...what? No. No, you aren't. How did you even get here?"

"I took the lift."

"That's not what I-"

"Let him pass. He's here. Let him in." The voice was familiar to Calen, one that Clanker turned toward and then looked back at Calen. While the droid could not change facial expression (being that it essentially had no face to change the expression of), Calen could only consider the glance one of disgust.

"Go. He's in the other room." Calen made his way past the irritated droid and entered into what looked to be a far more sparsely decorated chamber. In it was a bed, a dresser, and a series of circular cushioned seats. One of them was occupied by an all-too familiar man in brownish rags. He sat cross-legged, his eyes closed as Calen approached.

"Master Toph..." Calen said. The man hesitated, but did not move or even open his eyes.

"That is not a title I've held in a long time." Toph said.

"So you are him." Calen said. "You are Karras Toph."

"I was," The older man corrected, "I was Karras Toph. A lifetime ago."

"I don't understand." Calen said. "Why are you here?"

"I could ask the same of you." Toph opened his eyes, looking at the man. Having only seen them up close in holo form before, the amount of gray in them was striking. "Why are you here?"

"I... look, my name is Calen Darkhaven."

"I know who you are. That isn't what I asked."

"I'm a member of the Rebellion. I came here on a mission to stop Zobek from selling a weapon to the Empire. I need your help to complete it."

"I doubt a broken, feeble old man is going to be much help to you." Toph said. There was a long silence before Calen spoke again.

"I literally just saw you kill a krayt dragon. Single-handedly."

"I was a battlemaster in my youth, yes." Toph said. "If you recall, before the Jedi were wiped out, there was a war going on."

"I know that." Calen said. "And the Jedi are supposed to be the defenders of peace and justice during the Republic. What about that has changed?"

"Everything." Calen just stared at the man, so Toph continued. "I saw my entire Order, my friends, the closest thing I ever had to a family, wiped out within days... maybe even hours if I'm being generous."

"Order 66. I remember." Calen said. In his youth, he'd been taught that it was the Order that had been given by then-Chancellor Palpatine when the Jedi had revealed their duplicity against the Republic. Now, though, he knew better.

"You know what you were told." Toph corrected. "But you weren't there. You can't know. Not unless I show you."

"Show me?" Calen asked, raising a brow.

"Sit." Toph instructed as he gestured to one of the rounded seats. Apprehensive, Calen nonetheless did as he was asked. Toph reached out with one of his old, worn hands, a single finger pressing against Calen's forehead as the man closed his eyes. A moment later, Calen found himself closing his eyes as well. The black void of the inside of his eyelids suddenly began to blur and distort, and he found himself feeling as though he were being lifted by a great force. It felt to him as though he were being pulled along as though he'd been tied to the back of a speeder bike.

His vision cleared, and he found himself under a red sun over a desert wasteland. He felt the star burning at his skin, a dry wind providing no relief as it whipped through his hair and at his exposed flesh.

"Where am I?" Calen asked. His answer came in the form of three figures running past him, none of them seeming to notice that he was even there. It was as he moved to follow them that he glanced down and noticed a body slumped over in white armor, red accenting all along it. He recognized the old Clone Trooper armor from old holovids, but this armor was far from pristine and presentable. It looked as though a hodge-podge of other materials had been welded to it to make up for the absence of more fitting pieces. These pieces, too, had several long, deep gashes through them and some were even still smoking as though some sort of laser had sliced into them.

There were other bodies, too, other Clone Troopers that he hadn't noticed before in his disorientation. They were likewise damaged, their forms left lifeless in the dust.

"What do we do now? You heard them, what in the Force do we do now?"

"Will you calm down?"

"Calm down? Calm down?! Are you insane?! Those bucketheads just tried to kill us! They did kill Master Torrell!"

"Patience, Padawan." Calen recognized the voice of Karras Toph immediately. The man looked to be well into middle age, not quite the old man he had just been speaking to but a few years old than the holographic image and programming that had taught himself and Niyasa some of the basics of the Force. Calen stopped, confused by that for a moment.

"Master Toph, this is madness!" The younger padawan, a Cerean by the look of him, looked beyond terrified. "Months on this hellish planet and now we're on the run from our own soldiers! They were our friends! They helped us!"

"I am aware, Varus. I have been here, after all." Toph said.

"I... sorry, Master." The one called Varus looked down at the sandy ground, seemingly ashamed.

"Remember the Code." Toph said, turning his head to the other padawan, a fish-like race that Calen did not immediately recognize. "Arvan?"

"There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no chaos; there is harmony. There is no death; there is the Force." By the time he had said "chaos", both Toph and Varus had joined in, echoing the words as well in perfect lock step.

"Precisely." Toph said. "We must trust in the Force. It is the only way." Seeing that the group were out of immediate danger, he reached into his robes and pulled out a flat disk with some gold ornamentation upon it. A communicator, perhaps? He certainly seemed to be using it as such. "I am getting a faint signal. We can hopefully send a communication to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Perhaps they can explain what is going on."

"We can boost the signal if we use our communicators on the same frequency." Varus suggested, producing a device of his own and Arvan following suite. Toph smiled.

"The Force already provides for us." Toph said. The three set about setting the devices near one another, all tuned to the same frequency. "... that's strange."

"What is, Master?" Arvan asked.

"We are receiving a message from the Temple." Toph said. Soon enough, the image of a man in Jedi robes winked into existence. Calen could see the man had a beard that looked well-kempt, looking to be somewhere in his thirties? Possibly forties, the distortion from the holo-image made it more difficult to tell. He had kind eyes, but that kindness did not seem to move into the rest of him at all. His face was a veneer of calm over something similar to what the three Jedi here were feeling - confusion, panic. Maybe he, too, was out there looking for answers as to what had happened. Or... he had been, Calen noted. It was likely, now, that he was dead and gone...

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, 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. We will each be challenged. Our trust, our faith, our friendships, but we must preserve and in time a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you, always..."

The image went static for a moment, then began to repeat. Calen felt almost inspired by the words but, as he looked, he saw that that emotion was not shared by the three Jedi.

"Oh, no... no! No!" Varus shook his head, hands clasped to the side of his head. "What do we do now?"

"We have to do something." Arvan said. "We have to-" The being looked to his master. "... Master Toph?" The Jedi Master was staring blankly into the middle distance, his face was completely expressionless. "Master Toph. Please. Say something!"

"We've failed..." The words fell from the Master's mouth.

"Master Toph, you mustn't say things like that..." Arvan said. "We have to find a way to find other surviving Jedi. Maybe Master Obi-Wa-" He was suddenly cut off as a blaster bolt tore through his torso, the being gasping as he pressed his hand to the exit wound before he slumped over onto the sand.

"Arvan!" Varus called out, a bar of pure, forest green plasma erupting from his palm.

"Varus! Wait!" Toph had pulled a strange cylinder from his belt, the mid-section of which rested in his hand. The press of a button caused a similar bar of plasma - this one a bright saffron hue - to emerge from it. Calen recognized both weapons immediately - lightsabers! The entire area erupted in fire as several Clone Troopers pressed the advantage of their numbers, swarming the two remaining Jedi. Toph's arm was moving fast, deflecting and even sending back several blaster bolts toward their sources. However, the sheer number of Clones continued to bear down on them.

Varus had leaped ahead, deflecting a few bolts before slicing his saber through a Clone with a cry of pure fury. Another went down, another went down. The man moved like a machine, with none of them seeming to be able to touch them.

"You want to kill Jedi? Then kill me! KILL ME!!!" Varus spat as he sliced through another.

"Varus! Stop! Don't do this!" Toph cried out as he pushed away another Clone with a gesture. Yet still, more came, the two Jedi fighting desperately to avoid being completely swarmed. Calen watched, his entire body tensed as the Jedi cut through trooper after trooper with seemingly no end in sight. Eventually, though, between Varus' rage and Toph's technique, they managed to thin out the herd. Within a few moments, the Clones were dead and Toph was deactivating his lightsaber. "We need to keep moving, now."

"They're going to kill us all..." Varus hadn't shut off his own saber, the green plasma glowering over the bodies of the troopers it had just cut through. The man was shaking heavily. "They're going to kill us all!"

"Varus, remember the words of Master Keno-"

"To hell with his words! He's likely dead, too!" Varus cut off the Master as he turned, and Calen was startled to see a change in the man's eyes. Instead of the pools of blue his irises had once been, they had changed into a burnt orange with a red brim, his pupils having shrunken down significantly. The look of the Cerean now made Calen's skin crawl. It reminded him far, far too much of the caves on Gesaril... being in the presence of the Heart of Derriphan, though not nearly as extreme. Where that power had seemed deep and very old, this was... new. It was raw, fresh. It was like the difference between a powerful, but steadily flowing river and a massive flood that had just burst a dam.

"Varus, no-"

"I'm not going to give them a chance to kill me or anyone else, Master!" The padawan's eyes burned with that fear, that rage. "I'm going to hunt them down and kill them all... make them pay for what they've done!"

Suddenly, the world around him began to blur and distort. Once more, Calen felt that feeling as though he'd been strapped to a speeder bike and were sent careening off into the unknown. When he could focus again, he was back in Toph's room... having fallen off of the cushion and onto the floor. His head was bathed in a cool sweat, as if he'd been dunked into a tub of ice water.

"I... you..."

"That's all you're seeing." Toph, the older and more worn Toph, gazed down with a hard scowl at the younger man. The pain was palpable in the man's eyes. "Now, leave here, Calen Darkhaven."