The Corellian League Back Story - Chapter One - Part 10

Startled, Quyn leaped away from the thud and crunching of bone behind her. Still crouched, the smuggler spun and brought her blaster pistol to bear on the sound. The body of a Sith Officer lay contorted before her, and she knifed a glance up toward the cockpit of the weapons platform above her. Quyn allowed herself a half grin, reassuring herself that the Jedi had things well in hand.

For the moment, though, she had her own problems to deal with.

The advancing Sith Trooper squad of five was some 50 yards from her position. They had not spotted her yet, as she was somewhat obscured in the inky shadows beneath the platform, and their attention was trained on the ruckus overhead. Shrewd and cautious sensibilities had kept her alive over the years, and right now the sensible notion was to either stay hidden or disappear into the night. Open combat was not her forte.

Then again, this entire endeavor had been anything but a shrewd and sensible undertaking. That tingle of intuition scratched at the back of her mind, a sudden impulse of awareness raced through her conscious mind, and a rush of clarity hurried her into action. Quyn reached into a small pouch attached to her utility belt and pulled out three small, cylindrical charges. In a quick succession of underhanded throws, she tossed the charges in the path of the advancing troopers. The optics of her headgear switched over to infrared, the small charges eliciting just enough heat to register against the cold, black backdrop of the grass.

The troopers continued to advance…not far now.

The smuggler holstered her pistol, and her fingers slid across a small control pad affixed to her wrist. Seconds now…

With an eager smile, she pressed a button and detonated the charges. There was a crisp popping of air, followed by the humming of electrons, as the stun grenades exploded in sync in front of the Sith. Arcs of electricity leaped between the troopers and rifles burst apart in showers of blue sparks. Three of the Sith fell like stones, smoke coiling up from every seam in their battle armor. The other two staggered forward, one falling to his knees and the other grasping at his helmet as blue sparks crackled about the optics. Quyn didn’t hesitate.

Emerging from the shadows with her pistol drawn once again, the smuggler put down both Sith with two well-placed shots. Cautiously, she approached the downed squad, both hands on the grip of the blaster.

Quyn moved slowly amidst the downed squad, inspecting each for a prolonged moment.

“Vigil!” Kell’s voice, coarse and somewhat strained yelled out.

Sensing something was amiss, Quyn twisted at the waist, her gaze rising to the top of the weapon’s platform. Kell leaned against the railing as if it was supporting most of his weight, and behind him the repulsor drive seemed to groan and sputter.

“I need you up here,” he growled.

Quyn nodded subtly, but as she turned a firm grasp clutched her ankle and wrenched her about. The Sith Trooper growled something incomprehensible, and as the smuggler tried to get a shot off, her footing was pulled out from under her. On her haunches, Quyn shuffled backwards, but the trooper sprang upon her, the Sith’s hand closing around her neck. With strength she had not expected, the Sith lifted the smuggler off her feet.

Quyn sputtered and writhed against the hold, but once again the flow of calm, collected focus emanated through her. She stopped struggling, even as the last of her breath fled from her lungs. The blaster was still in her hands, and with a quick snap of her wrist she thrust the barrel against the side of the trooper’s helmet and fired.

Quyn tumbled backwards as they fell, rolling once more onto her launches.

“Blazes Quyn!” Kell yelled again.

“Awfully temperamental for a Jedi,” she murmured to herself, clambering to her feet and darting back towards the platform. Suddenly, she felt the pull of the Force in her guts, and she was lifted off the ground. Her arms flailed frantically for a moment, and her head snapped toward Kell. The Jedi Knight’s outstretched hand guided his comrade’s ascent, and when Quyn thought to glower and at her new friend, she resisted when she noted the strain upon his face.

Kell set her down gently atop the platform, even as he swooned and let his weight fall fully against the railing. Quyn holstered her blaster, and she gave the Jedi a quick once-over. He was pale, and the luster had escaped his eyes. She spied the blood spilling between his fingers from the wound at his hip, and she rushed to his side.

“No time for that,” Kell murmured. “The repulsor drive is failing.”

“Give it a rest…you may be a Jedi but you have the sense of a Womp rat,” Quyn admonished as she knelt down beside him and pulled a medpak from the belt satchel at her lower back. “We won’t have time for anything if you’re dead.” She set to treating the wound with a spray hypo and pulled back enough of his robes to affix a bandage.

“We need…” Kell struggled for a moment, “…need to stabilize the repulsor and bring the mass driver cannon back online.”

Quyn jerked her head up and stared at the Jedi incredulously. “What for?”

Kell’s eyelids fluttered. “So we can fire into the Sith ranks…it’s the only chance for those inside the complex.”

The heat and smell of the electrical fires had subsided, but the air about Tormax had grown uncomfortably warm. His path from the archival chamber had been a series of twisting and turning access corridors and stairs. The Consular did not actually know where he was going, and as such he relied on his faith in the Force to guide him. But as he continued to descend, and as the heat grew more intense, his mind recalled some of Marq’s final words to him.

The coolant systems…he thought to himself.

The Bounty Hunter’s errant rockets must have set off a chain reaction that had caused the coolant systems to fail. Tormax grimaced – it was only a matter of time until the enormous generators powering the spire ruptured, vaporizing it and his comrades along with it.

At the base of a short flight of stairs the corridor turned and ended at the precipice of an expansive, circular reactor core shaft. Beginning at the reactor core at the base of the spire, the hollow expanse that stretched the entire height of the tower was designed to whisk warm air away from the main reactor and its host of generators. But with the failure of the coolant systems, the shaft was now filled with slowly moving superheated air, rather than the constant flow of moderate warmth. A suspended walkway circled the shaft, and a narrow access bridge ran through the apex of the enormous, cylindrical vent. Near the center of the suspended, metal bridge two computer consoles flanked the walkway.

Tormax’s eyes narrowed. The consoles were undoubtedly used for security and monitoring purposes, tracking sensor feeds for temperature and air flow levels. Though, if he could access the security matrix, he might just be able to access the data Noval had been searching for.

He felt the walkway beneath his feet vibrate ever so subtly and heard the distant rumbling echo of explosions. The Jedi peered over the precipice of the vent shaft, and he spied the amber glow of explosions in the shadowy depths of the reactor core.

Only a matter of time, he thought to himself.

With swift steps he circled the shaft on the walkway, and sucking a deep breath he stepped onto the bridge. Tormax swooned for a moment, struck by the sudden rise in temperature, as he stepped into the superheated flow of air.

He had to hurry.

The Jedi dashed toward the consoles, and immediately began to navigate the interface. Sweat beaded rampantly on his brow, and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his robe. A few tenuous moments of searching turned to agonizing frustration.

Like looking for a needle in a nest of gundarks, he thought in irritation.

Suddenly, a deep, mocking laughter permeated the sticky, sweltering air.

“I do admire your persistence, young Jedi.” Darth Xisix voice coiled through the reactor shaft with insidious malice. “However foolish and misguided it may be.”

Tormax bristled, and he stepped out from behind the console. The Sith Inquisitor stood before him, in the threshold of the corridor and his only path of escape.

“Whatever were you hoping to find?” Xisix grinned and his yellow eyes flashed. “There is no evidence of Sith infiltration within the Coronet City government.” A long moment of painful realization passed. “Coronet City is ours…and these weak-willed municipals answer to the Dark Council.”

“Impossible!” Tormax growled in defiance. “More lies from a mouth incapable of speaking the truth.”

The smile on the Pureblood’s face only widened. “You came here looking for answers to a question you knew not how to ask. Now you have an answer…one that you cannot even understand.” Xisix scowled. “And still you remain defiant.”

Discordant thoughts swirled in Tormax’s mind.

Xisix stepped from the corridor onto the circular walkway. “The Jedi have been and always will be blind to the evolution of the universe around them. Your stubborn refusal to accept change shall continue to be your downfall.”

Tormax lips twitched as the corrupting words slithered through his mind. Drawing his mind into focus, he centered his thoughts upon the teachings of Noval Colton, the truths he knew in his heart, and formed a shield from the shadowed ruminations of the Sith. He drew and ignited his lightsaber in a single, fluid motion.

“So unwise,” the Inquisitor purred, his hands lashing out. A storm of force lightning leaped from his fingertips, striking the consoles on either side the Jedi. The dark side of the Force tore the consoles apart at their cores, eruption of blue sparks bursting from every seam. Tormax leaped forward and tucked into a role, as the consoles collapsed behind him.

Springing to his feet, the Consular thrust out his palm, a spear of invisible Force energy flinging Darth Xisix back against the wall of the ventilation shaft. Tormax allowed his momentum to continue forward, and he grasped his lightsaber hilt with both hands and brought the blade crashing down. With his back pressed to the metal wall, Xisix acknowledged his surprise at the Jedi’s sudden display of aggression. Although the Jedi had surprised him with a lucky first strike, Xisix was far from defenseless. His hand shot up, bone and tendon tightening into a strangling grip.

Tormax felt the sudden force upon his throat, a crushing weight that threatened to collapse his larynx. He stumbled backwards, a hand coming free of the lightsaber and beginning to claw at the invisible vice about his neck.

Xisix stood and with his grasping hand still extended, nonchalantly approached the young Jedi. “You need not throw your life away. This hollow accord will not last long…and then…then the Sith shall rule the galaxy.” Xisix smiled in eagerness. “As it was meant to be.”

Tormax struggled and sputtered, finally drawing his hand away from his throat, as he regained a moment of clarity.

“Join me…it is the only way to save yourself or your friends.”

Broken words whispered from the Jedi’s lips. In eager anticipation, the Inquisitor released his hold. Tormax stumbled to his knees as the Sith drew close, Xisix’s malevolent shadow falling over him. “Speak, young one.”

“Your faith in the dark side…” His fist tightened about the hilt of his lightsaber, its green emanations washing over his face. “…will be your undoing.” He thrust up with the saber, but Xisix had sensed the tremor in the force, the deep purple hue of his own lightsaber flaring to life and intercepting the blow.

The Sith stepped back, angling his lightsaber at Tormax as he did. “Your lack of vision will be your end, my foolish Jedi. And an unpleasant end it shall be…just as it was for Noval Colton.”

Tormax felt the flare of anger in his chest, felt his spirit reach out precariously for the enticing power of the dark side. But he felt Noval’s presence close to him, heard the silent whispers of reassurance. He closed his eyes, drew a deep, settling breath, and calmed his spirit.

As his eyes opened he launched himself upon the Sith.

Truth was his guide.

The light side of the Force his ally.

He would strike the Sith down, no matter the odds.

The saga continues... Chapter One - Part 11