by Paul S. Kemp
Loading droids milled about on the far end of the ship, preparing to unload it. Nyss drew the darkness to him and sank into the shadows near a stack of shipping containers. The droids did not see him.
He knew exactly what the clones intended. They were not attacking the medical center, at least not primarily. Into his comlink, he whispered, “They’re going to hijack the medical supply ship on the pad.”
Syll’s soft tones answered him. “Jaden Korr will try to stop them.”
As if summoned by her words, the landing ramp of the YT descended and he saw Jaden Korr and the Cerean, Marr Idi Shael, standing in the open hatch. Had Jaden been alone, Nyss might have made an attempt then and there.
As it was, he remained in hiding, unseen, and watched.
The moment Junker touched down, Jaden and Marr bounded out of the cargo bay and onto the landing pad. Khedryn’s voice carried over the comlink, ghostly.
“Be careful.”
Jaden looked back at Junker and saw Khedryn through the transparisteel off the cockpit, giving them a thumbs-up.
Marr ran for the doorway that opened onto the east stairwell. Jaden headed for the west stair, but diverted toward the medical supply ship. A half-dozen loading droids stood beside the ship, waiting for the lateral cargo bay doors to open so that they could begin unloading.
“May I help you, sir?” asked one of the droids.
Ignoring it, Jaden activated a beacon and tossed it high up on the ship’s side, where it stuck to the hull. He caught a peculiar ripple in the Force, an odd twinge, but it passed instantly. He looked around, saw nothing, and assumed it had something to do with the clones. He switched channels on his comlink and raised R-6.
“Ar-Six, I just placed a signal beacon on a ship that may try to leave the system.” He gave R-6 the signal frequency. “If that ship lifts off and you don’t hear from me, you inform the Order that I believe the escaped clones are aboard.”
R-6 beeped an affirmative, then added a bit more in droidspeak.
“Don’t worry,” Jaden said. “I’ll be careful.”
He augmented his speed with the Force and reached the door to the west stairwell just after Marr reached the east. The Cerean held his lightsaber in one hand, his blaster in the other. He opened the door and entered without looking back.
Jaden threw open the west door and entered the stairwell. The sound of alarms carried from far below. The flights of stairs formed a perimeter around a deep, square stairwell. He leaned over the railing and looked down. The angle did not allow him to see the stairs very clearly, but he heard doors opening and closing on several floors below him. He also heard the sounds of hurried footsteps, frightened whispers.
He activated his comlink and whispered to Marr, “I think there are civilians on the stairs. Be mindful.”
“I will,” Marr whispered in answer.
Nyss considered his options. He needed to get to Korr, but he needed Korr alone. He could not risk exposing the One Sith’s involvement unless he was certain of success. Indecision ate away the moments. It would do him little good to involve himself in a combat between Korr and the Prime.
“They are inside the building,” he whispered to Syll.
“If he dies, then it’s all for nothing.”
Nyss’s reply was sharp. “I know that. But if we’re discovered, it’s worse.”
To that, Syll did not reply.
Jaden started down the stairs—past the ninth floor, the eighth. On each floor, he opened the stairwell door and poked his head out into the hallway of the medical center proper, looking for anything unusual. The halls were empty but for the occasional furtive passage of a doctor or nurse. An alarm sounded. A voice over the speakers instructed all personnel and patients to remain in their rooms. When anyone saw Jaden, fear filled their eyes. He smiled and did his best to look harmless before returning to the stairwell. He continued in that fashion—the seventh floor, the sixth, listening for anything unusual, waiting, waiting.…
A sudden scream startled him; it was followed by shouts from three floors below, then the sound of an activating lightsaber, another, then another. Blaster shots, then more screams.
“My side, third floor, in the stairwell,” he said to Marr over his comlink, as he activated his lightsaber and leapt over the railing and down the shaft. He used the Force to slow his descent and grabbed the fourth-floor railing as he fell. The moment his free hand closed on it, he augmented his strength and pulled himself up, arresting his fall and flipping onto the stairway between the fourth and fifth floors.
He landed face-to-face with a startled nurse who had been trying to flee up the stairs to the fifth-floor landing. Two security guards lay dead on the fourth-floor landing behind her, the black holes in their chests still leaking smoke.
The woman opened her mouth to scream, but Jaden shoved her behind him before she could get a peep out.
“Get out of here,” he said, hearing footsteps coming up the stairs at a jog and feeling the dark side press against his consciousness.
One of the clones turned the corner of the stairs below him. He looked vaguely familiar to Jaden, but his long beard and shaggy hair made his features hard to discern. He wore a threadbare Imperial uniform a size too small, the whole covered in a gray cloak made from sewn blankets. The red blade of his lightsaber sizzled and sparked, its edges irregular.
The clone’s wild, bloodshot eyes widened when he saw Jaden. Jaden took advantage of the clone’s surprise. He drew on the Force, extended a hand, and struck the clone with a blast of concussive energy so strong it blew the clone back down the stairs and drove him into the floor. The clone lay there, dazed.
“Runner!” said a female voice.
Jaden took the stairs three at a time, bounded past the fallen clone, and saw two more—a woman, lithe and bald, and a man, tall, with long, straight brown hair and a beard. The woman carried a small girl. The man carried an unconscious woman, but when he saw Jaden, he let her slide to the ground and activated his lightsaber, red and angry.
Jaden lunged forward. The woman backed off a step, shielding the child, and the man met his charge, parrying Jaden’s overhand slash with his red blade.
Across the intersected blades, Jaden locked eyes with the clone—and gasped.
He was staring into gray eyes the mirror of his own.
The realization took a moment to register, and when it did, it hit him like a punch in the face, staggering him. He lost focus, lost his concentration. The realization pulled a single word from him as implications crashed down on him.
“How?”
The clone unleashed a blast of Force that drove Jaden up against the far wall. Jaden recovered himself enough to cushion the impact with the Force, but the clone followed up immediately, leaping forward and unleashing a crosscut at Jaden’s throat.
Jaden ducked under the red blade at the last moment and it cut a deep groove in the wall, causing a shower of sparks. He kicked out a leg and swept the clone’s legs, but instead of falling prone, the clone caught himself on one hand before hitting the ground, pushed off, and backflipped away from Jaden.
Battle cleared the surprise from Jaden’s mind, and the moment the clone’s feet touched the ground, Jaden unleashed a blast of power designed to slam him into the wall.
The clone snarled, held up a hand, palm outward, and met Jaden’s blast with his own. Power pressed against power and Jaden and the clone eyed each other across the landing, jaws fixed, eyes locked, neither gaining the advantage.
On the stairway above him and to his left, Jaden saw the clone he had dazed rise to his feet and shake his head, growling. His angry eyes fixed on Jaden. He gestured with both hands, and sent a burst of power at the Jedi.
Jaden held out his left hand—his maimed hand—at the last moment, intercepted the blast, and answered with his own power. The clone’s push caused him to stagger, but he nested himself in the Force and stood his ground against both clones. He held his hands out, the clones’ power pressing at h
im from right angles. The yellow line of his lightsaber, which he still held in his left had, sizzled before his eyes. The effort squeezed sweat from him, taxed mind and body. He took a step back, another, and found himself pressed against the wall. He could not hold out for long.
The female clone stared at him, a strange smile on her face. Her strong jaw and almond-shaped eyes clicked in Jaden’s memory and he recognized her as a clone of the Dark Jedi Lumiya. Her baldness had thrown him at first. The child, her face dirty, her long red hair matted, did not move at all.
“What do you want?” Jaden asked through gritted teeth.
“To go home,” the Lumiya-clone said.
“I can’t allow that,” Jaden said.
Her smile deepened. “You cannot stop us. No one can. Mother has called.”
As one, the two male clones took a step toward Jaden, their power pressing against him. He fell to one knee, grunting against their onslaught, barely holding on.
They took another step and he fell to both knees.
The larger of the two grinned. Jaden recognized him now, behind the beard and hair. He was a clone of Jaden’s Master, Kyle Katarn. Anger poured off both clones, anger born of years of frustration and mistreatment. It hit Jaden like a hailstorm. His elbows bent. He was failing, failing.
But he refused to give in.
He grunted, summoned a reserve of strength, extended his arms fully, pushed back against the clones, stood up, and held his ground.
“I won’t let you pass,” he grunted. “I can’t.”
His words erased the smile on the Lumiya-clone’s face. She shrieked, her calm façade shattering under the sudden expression of her rage. Power went forth from her, joined that of the other two clones, and slammed him against the wall.
“Kill him, Soldier!” she screamed. “Kill him!”
The Jaden-clone deactivated his lightsaber and raised his free hand, fingers spread like a claw. Jaden knew instantly what was coming and braced himself as blue Force lightning filled the distance between them.
Jaden adjusted his blade slightly and the lightning caught in it, snaked around its length, spiraled toward the hilt, hit Jaden’s hand, his forearm, his bicep.
The power burned his flesh while turning his spirit cold. He grimaced with pain. Trying to resist, he opened himself fully to the Force, but the clone’s power was too much.
He screamed, took his lightsaber hilt in both hands and spun it before him, winding the Force lightning back up along its blade and away from his body. But his focus on the lightning cost him, and a renewed push from the Katarn-clone slammed him against the wall. The side of his face hit the duracrete and he sagged to the floor, struggling to maintain consciousness.
The Jaden-clone, Soldier, walked toward him.
“Just let us go, Jedi,” he said.
Jaden’s tongue and lips would not make words, so he shook his head.
The lightning sizzled again, the power pushing him along the floor, burning his flesh, searing his spirit. He was still holding his blade, still managing to deflect the bulk of the energy. He just needed to regain his wits, his clarity of thought.
The other clone, the Katarn-clone, appeared before him. Jaden had not seen him approach. His red blade cut down to split Jaden’s head. Jaden blocked awkwardly with his blade, which was still enmeshed in Force lightning. The clone snarled, then loosed a Force-augmented kick to the side of Jaden’s face that caused him to see stars and sent him careering down the stairs. He hit the next landing, and, fearing a follow-up attack, staggered to his feet, wobbly, weaving, unable to see clearly. He saw them above him, tried to ready himself, but a misstep sent him tumbling down the next flight of stairs.
He hit his head again. Blackness beckoned and he could not resist it.
Marr fought to keep calm as he darted through the medical facility’s hallways. He sprinted past a few doctors, nurses, patients on gurneys, medical and maintenance droids.
“Who are you?” someone shouted.
He left unanswered questions and alarmed glances in his wake, holding his purple lightsaber in one hand, his blaster in the other. He could see the building’s schematic in his mind and headed directly for the stairwell access door.
He shouldered through it, blaster and blade ready, and nearly tripped over Jaden’s prone form.
“Master!”
He heard footsteps on the stairs far above them, voices, but saw no sign of the clones. He considered following, but only for a moment. His Master had ordered him not to engage them alone.
He knelt over Jaden. The side of his Master’s face was discolored, his lip split, his right eye filled with blood from burst capillaries. But he was breathing. Marr tapped Jaden’s cheeks but got no response.
He squeezed his comlink and raised Khedryn.
“Jaden is down, Khedryn. The clones are heading for the supply ship. Get it airborne or get everyone out of it.”
“Jaden is down? What does that mean?”
“Go, Khedryn,” Marr said, “Go, now!”
Cursing, Khedryn strapped on his blaster, jumped out of his seat, and tore through Junker, through the cargo bay, and down the landing ramp. He ran straight for the medical supply ship. When he got near the cockpit, he started shouting and waving his hands.
Through the transparisteel of the cockpit, he saw the crew still in their seats, probably going through some postlanding checklist, or perhaps trying to raise the medical facility—to no avail.
The three cargo doors hung open and the treaded loading droids were beginning to unload the materials. Khedryn hated droids—the blasted things performed their tasks without exercising judgment of any kind. The building could have been falling down and they’d continue unloading throughout.
“Raise the crew!” he shouted to the nearest droid. “Tell them to take off.”
The droids either did not hear him or wouldn’t acknowledge him.
He cursed and ran into the ship. The droids protested behind him—now they noticed him—but he ignored them. He pelted through the cargo bay, loaded with stacks of shipping containers, and made his way to the bridge, shouting the entire time.
Nyss slipped from the shadows and followed the freighter pilot onto the medical supply ship. He trailed him through the cargo bay and toward the cockpit, trying to determine exactly what was happening. “I’m on the supply ship,” he whispered to Syll.
Unable to rouse Jaden, Marr ran out of the stairwell and into the main hall of the medical facility. Wide eyes and alarmed glances greeted his appearance. Someone screamed, perhaps thinking him one of the attackers.
“I’m here to help,” he said absently, looking for a medical locker. He found one mounted on a nearby wall, cut it open with his blade, and removed a packet of Quickwake. He hurried back to the stairwell and cracked the Quickwake tube.
Its ammonia smell cleared Marr’s nostrils and made his eyes water. He placed it under Jaden’s nose. Right away Jaden turned his head away from the stench, gasping. His eyes opened, fixed on Marr.
“Master, what happened?” Marr asked.
“The clones,” Jaden said, and started to sit up. Marr assisted him.
“Up there,” Marr said, and nodded to the stairway. “I’ve alerted Khedryn.”
Leaning on Marr, Jaden climbed to his feet. “Khedryn can’t stop them.”
Khedryn burst through the cockpit door of the supply ship, breathing heavily. The captain, gray-haired and overweight, whirled to face him. The copilot, younger and thin, almost fell out of his chair with surprise.
“I know how this looks,” Khedryn said. “But you’ve got to listen to me. Get this ship off the pad, right now!”
The captain’s initial fear gave way to a look of confusion. “What?”
Khedryn had no time to talk about Sith-Jedi clones, so he lied. “I’m with building security. Criminals are making their way up through the facility right now. They want this ship. Get it out of here.”
That seemed to register. The copilot spu
n in his chair, starting work at the instrument panel.
The captain said, “It’ll take a few minutes to get the engines back online and close the cargo doors. She won’t fly with the cargo doors open. Corporate safety feature to preserve accidental dumping of cargo.”
Khedryn pinched his comlink. “How much time do they have, Marr?”
No response.
“Marr?”
Khedryn cursed.
“We could just seal the cockpit until the authorities come,” the copilot offered.
Khedyrn shook his head. He knew what a lightsaber could do. If the clones got aboard, there’d be no keeping them out of the cockpit.
“Get off,” Khedryn said.
“What?” the copilot said.
“No,” the captain said, shaking his head. “We can’t abandon the cargo—it comes out of our pay.”
“That’s why corporations have insurance, man. Get off, now. There’s no pay to collect if you’re dead.” When the captain hesitated, Khedryn drew his blaster and leveled it at him. “Now. I’m sorry, but this is for your own good.”
That did it. The captain and copilot stood and Khedryn pushed them through the ship, down the lift, through the corridors, and into the cargo bay.
“Marr?” Khedryn called over his comlink. “Marr?”
“Where are we supposed to go?” the copilot asked. “If they’re coming up the stairway, how do we get out of here?”
“Hide somewhere out on the deck. They don’t care about you. They just want the ship. Marr, do you hear me?”
The captain and copilot ran down the ramp, the captain’s belly bouncing every which way. They stopped at the bottom of the ramp, looked around. The copilot pointed to a stack of shipping containers near Junker and they sprinted toward it.
“Marr, if you can hear me, the crew is off the ship but we can’t get her away in time.”
Still no response. Khedryn began to worry.
He did not head back to Junker. Instead, he ran for the east stairwell.
Nyss lingered in the cargo bay of the supply ship and watched the spacer go. The droids worked around him, oblivious to his presence. He had no idea what had happened with Korr and the clones.