Doctor Korin Aphra seemed far more comfortable in the presence of the Jedi and clones than Ellanda Sheyl was.
He was still smiling, but after a few moments while being surrounded by the suspicious troopers, he started to sag.
“Ah. I’d hoped the Jedi would know me by now.”
“Should we?” Kit Fisto calmly wondered.
“I’ve just been studying the ancient Jedi for quite some time now,” Doctor Aphra admitted, shrugging.
“The wife scolds me for it. Ever since I got my doctorate.”
“Your wife. Is it her?” Obi-Wan asked, gesturing at Ellanda, who glowered over the edges of her square glasses at the Jedi.
“What? No,” Aphra was quick to say.
“Lucky guy,” Cody muttered in Obi-Wan’s ear from behind him.
“I happen to be the vice-chairman of the BFG division,” Ellanda said with pride, hands on her hips.
“Family would only slow me down.”
“And I’m just an archaeologist that was brought on late into the project– no more than… two or three weeks before this invasion happened.” Doctor Aphra grew increasingly resigned towards the end.
Obi-Wan gave him a moment before he continued.
“Doctor Aphra, please understand the situation we’re all in right now. We need to know everything you know pertaining to this, er, demonic invasion. Half-truths and white lies won’t do anyone any good.”
“And I can sense if you’re lying,” Kit Fisto supplied, folding his arms.
“My Nautolan senses enable me to detect pheromones in your sweat, and the Force lets me detect changes in your heart rate. For both of your sakes, I would recommend being open, honest… and cooperative.”
Korin Aphra and Ellanda Sheyl glanced at each other, both their eyes glistening.
After several moments, Ellanda sighed and relented first.
She pushed her square glasses further onto her face.
“I’m willing to explain the events of the last seventy-two hours, but you must understand: Everything the UAC was doing here was to benefit the war effort.”
Obi-Wan and Kit Fisto remained sternly silent.
“…But everything’s gotten out of hand now,” Aphra conceded.
He straightened in place.
“When I arrived on Bracca, I was sworn to secrecy at the cost of my life, then was set to work translating texts and stone tablets the UAC had uncovered.”
“But what was the UAC doing here? And how does it relate to these tablets?” Obi-Wan pressured.
Korin took a second.
“This UAC lab wasn’t a lab at first. It was actually a mining facility. Fifteen years ago, the miners discovered some kind of residual energy source in the crust after drilling deep into the surface. This laboratory was expanded over it, the source was closed off to all but the highest ranking workers, and the UAC sort of absorbed the mining assets into it.”
“We were told that Death Watch had been planning to raid this place for an energy source,” Obi-Wan aligned.
“And what was this energy source, again?”
Ellanda looked steadfastly up at Obi-Wan.
“Argent energy,” she said, as if expecting him to understand.
Obi-Wan and Kit Fisto turned to each other silently before returning their gaze to Ellanda.
“Sorry?”
“A kind of plasma with activated neutrons,” Ellanda elaborated to Obi-Wan.
“It’s mined only on Bracca, and its uses are infinite.”
“And does it have anything to do with these, er, demons?” Kit Fisto asked, stepping around to Ellanda’s side.
Ellanda didn’t answer immediately.
“Your sweat has increased,” Kit Fisto noted, nearly offhandedly.
He inclined his head, regarding her with his solid black eyes.
“Are you sure you wish to die on this hill?”
Ellanda sighed heavily.
“Argent plasma… is… mined from Hell,” she got out with evident pain.
A few seconds passed as the two Jedi and many of the clones remained silent.
That bombshell, that feeling of shock…
“…Hell,” Commander Cody quietly spoke up.
“The Corellian religious Hell. That Hell? And you’re sure you haven’t just come across… what, a vision, or another dimension, or…”
“Hell is real,” Doctor Aphra firmly said, looking Cody dead in his helmet.
“Fire and brimstone, flesh and iron, blood and gore. It’s the real deal. I have touched the artifacts it contains, and almost died to the demons twice now.”
Cody deflated visibly.
“This is more than I signed up for,” he grumbled.
“I felt the same way,” Doctor Aphra empathized.
Ellanda nodded and remained silent at Aphra’s words.
“Tell us about the invasion,” Kit Fisto ordered.
Aphra nodded and jabbed a thumb.
“The invasion began from that drill site in the center of the facility. There’s a portal there. If it weren’t for the fact that we’re dealing with Hell, it would be the greatest scientific achievement in the history of the galaxy. Anyway, our communications went down in the invasion. We couldn’t call for help, but it seems like the cutoff of the comms array drew you in anyway.”
“Just like the Rishi moon,” Cody muttered in thought.
“It released lots of radio interference as well as atmospheric disruption,” Aphra continued, gesturing as occasion permitted.
“Ground-to-ground localized comlinks should be fine, but the only thing strong enough to reach interstellar space would be the comms array– which is in demon-controlled territory. Barring that, I suppose if the hell portal itself was closed, the interference emanating from it would cease.”
“Our subspace scans did show up nothing from orbit,” Obi-Wan agreed.
“No information about demons or anything else.”
“So in other words, we can’t run, hide, or call for help,” Commander Nyx grouchily summed up, resting his hands on his twin holstered pistols.
“We’re on our own. All we have is what’s here in the facility.”
“I’m afraid so,” Aphra admitted.
“Fierfek,” Nyx cursed.
“My thoughts exactly,” Aphra gravely agreed.
“Luckily, that includes the records of the demons the UAC experimented on and observed. If nothing else, we can give you their files, and you can examine them for weaknesses.”
And indeed, five minutes later, with some help from Aphra, Dice had picked out the appropriate classified files from the main record console.
Dice began uploading the files into the shared codex that was building up, then passed a few datapads around for the troopers to get a good first look.
Meanwhile, Obi-Wan came beside Aphra and Ellanda.
“Are you two in fighting condition?” he asked quietly.
“I can handle myself,” Aphra said, patting the simple sidearm on his hip.
“Usually. But I can’t deal with the demons all on my own, and neither can Ellanda. I ran into her yesterday while scavenging, and we stayed together, but only by the skin of our teeth. We’re lucky you came along when you did.”
“And there are no other survivors?”
“None that I know of, General Kenobi.”
Obi-Wan nodded after a moment.
“After we try to get the comms back online, you and Ellanda will lead us to the source of the invasion, Doctor. I assume you have been there?”
Aphra weighed something in his hands.
“I’ve been to the drill site, but not to the center. It’ll be a surprise for all of us.”
Meanwhile, Ellanda was busy arguing with Commander Cody.
“Without your authorization, ma’am, we can’t access the remaining files,” Cody was reasoning with the patience of a saint.
“You’re asking me to release the information on thousands of workers in the process!” Ellanda exclaimed, indicating the console with incredulity.
“Even if they’re all dead, this entire situation leads into a big, uh, philosophical conundrum.”
“Philosophy?” came an equally incredulous voice.
A 212th clone trooper, Barlex, with orange diamond designs on his helmet and breastplate, tramped forward with his heavy gun hoisted vertically on his shoulder.
Barlex pointed accusingly at Ellanda.
“Your biggest concern here is for the rights of dead men, and not for the living!”
“And that’s a fair argument to make,” Ellanda conceded, gesturing at the clone trooper.
“But wouldn’t you respect the privacy and rights of your clone brethren, trooper? Even if they’re dead, wouldn’t they come first?”
Barlex couldn’t be seen under his helmet, but his stance suggested a brief moment of thought.
Then he straightened.
“All right. Fine. I can talk. First, though, I’d like to introduce you to a friend that’s very close to my heart. Just a little in front and right, to be specific.” Barlex leveled his Z-6 heavy repeater, all six barrels now pointing directly at Ellanda Sheyl.
“My little friend here is an eloquent speaker. I’m not, though, so I tend to let him talk for me when things get philosophical.”
Obi-Wan sighed and used a hand to wave Barlex’s Z-6 down.
He then spread his arms allowingly.
“Ellanda. Please.”
Ellanda’s glowering eyes shifted from Obi-Wan to Barlex, then drifted to the ground.
She seemed to deflate.
And she turned to the console and began to type.
She stayed very close to the monitor, so close that no one else could see what was going on.
But it satisfied Cody and Barlex.
Obi-Wan, however, kept his eye on her back.
And he kept his ears open to conversations rippling throughout the room.
“The comms center is too far away for us to make in short time,” Commander Nyx was observing to Kit Fisto, looking at a blue holographic display of the facility map he was holding.
“But Skywalker’s group should be able to arrive there faster. Hold on, let me send the message over to Gree, and Rex, and Keen…”
“It seems like we must investigate the Nihilus Labs on our end, then,” Fisto said, almost absently.
His hand stroked a green tentacle dangling on his shoulder.
“We can use a combination of the archived data here and the secure data there to–”
“I need to go back to my quarters first,” Aphra cut in, overhearing.
“There’s archaeological data I’ve compiled there that can be useful in unraveling this whole mystery.”
Fisto folded his arms.
“And is it far?”
“No, sir. I mean, Master. Whatever. Look, I’m willing to help however I can. And all I have is back in my quarters. Compared to the rest of the facility, it’s a hop, skip, and jump away. It won’t take long.”
Nyx and Fisto exchanged looks before Fisto gave a slow nod.
“But we are all coming with you.”
And indeed, no more than ten minutes later, Doctor Aphra was leading the way through the shattered halls and the bloodstained corridors of the facility.
Aphra, the clones, the Jedi, and Ellanda moved at a brisk and purposeful pace through the wreckage, a sign of Aphra’s confidence.
The redecoration was nothing new, but it still chilled Obi-Wan’s blood the more he focused on obscure details.
A shoe with a severed foot inside it, lying in their path.
Promotional posters and corporate papers hanging up had been torn by claws and mangled, dangling halfway off the walls and soaked with blood.
A severed cable dangling from the ceiling, still sparking a brief halo of light in the dimness.
Obi-Wan found himself sticking closely beside Korin Aphra as he strode on.
Of course, another holopad could also light up their surroundings.
One soon shimmered into existence, with the UAC corporate representative delivering his news in a cheery and obviously played-up tone.
It was, oddly, a rhyming chant of some kind: “Remember, Dio rides the tiger. Bless always the Holy Diver.”
Obi-Wan squinted at the hologram as it fizzled out.
“Sorry?”
“I’m not entirely sure about that either,” Aphra admitted, shrugging.
“I’ve seen a lot of those the last few days. I think the demons can insert thoughts and intentions into your head that can be incomprehensible.”
“It sounded like something everyone was supposed to understand,” Obi-Wan denied.
“Well, I wasn’t here for long enough to understand their inane babbling,” Aphra reasoned.
“I thought it was just an inside joke. Heck, it may be just that. Or a demon incantation, pssht. I still don’t know everything. It’s a strange universe out there.”
Obi-Wan just nodded and kept his ears and eyes peeled for more danger as they walked.
He detected none except the chime of the reappearing hologram behind him, to deliver a second message.
“Our new UAC cafeteria menu now features semi-ethically-sourced human remains. You asked, we listened!”
“Asked?” Boil repeated, taken aback, as the hologram fizzled out.
“What do you mean, asked? Who says, ‘Ah, yes, please give me human flesh?’ I mean, which human, what normal human would say that, Waxer. I don’t mean Trandoshans or anything,” he quickly qualified.
“Do you know if Trandoshans eat human flesh?” Waxer calmly asked.
“Well, no,” Boil admitted while keeping his blaster steadfastly forward.
“I just figure they do.”
“Which would make you racist against them.”
“Good,” Boil was quick to say.
“Filthy subhuman taildraggers and thick-skins. Bounty hunters and slavers, all of ’em. Whole galaxy knows it. What, you mean to tell me you aren’t?”
“I mean, yeah, ‘course I am,” Waxer sheepishly admitted in response, shrugging.
“But you didn’t have to go that overboard. I just wanted to see if you were too.”
“Yeah, sure,” Boil conceded, not sounding confident.
Obi-Wan heard all this, but chose to not intervene.
He just leaned in close to Aphra again as they passed by a half-eaten Ithorian corpse chained to the wall.
“Eugh,” Aphra said simply as he nudged a severed arm out of his way.
The uncalloused hand holding his simple blaster pistol was trembling.
Even though they had encountered no demons yet, Aphra did not relax.
“…It must have been hard, surviving this,” Obi-Wan quietly started.
“Oh, you have no idea,” Aphra affirmed, not looking at Obi-Wan.
His beady eyes were instead scanning the halls as they rounded a bend.
“Can barely find good food apart from the vending machines. Imagine going to sleep with that smell in your nose, huh? I’m lucky this section was cleared out yesterday by my bodyguard. He’s keeping my work safe at the moment, actually.”
“Bodyguard? So if you and Ellanda are the only survivors you know of…?” Obi-Wan asked.
Aphra shrugged as they walked through the gore-strewn corridors.
“Back when I first started working here, I investigated the Bracca surface. And in the junkyard and piles of scrap, I came across… well, a droid. Its chassis had all but disintegrated, but the memory chip and neurotransmitter were all intact. I decided reconstructing it would be a personal project. But it only came online after the invasion started. It’s only thanks to him that I’ve survived this long. He has access to most of the facility too, so it’s not just sentimental.”
“What’s he like?” Obi-Wan asked innocently.
Aphra’s eyes dipped to the ground.
“Uh, you’ll see.”
Obi-Wan, bemused, decided to leave it at that.
A few more bends in the hallway later, and they had reached the section of the professional quarters.
The lights were in relatively good condition, but scorched and mangled bodies in UAC uniforms still littered the floor.
The clone troopers took up positions on the walls, nudged in broken doors to bedrooms, and took the moment to look through their supplies and scavenge.
Ellanda Sheyl stayed under the close scrutiny of Kit Fisto in the hallway, and neither of them looked very happy about the arrangement.
Aphra, Obi-Wan, and Cody and Nyx went ahead.
Soon they reached the door to Aphra’s quarters.
It was pockmarked with scratches, scorches, and dents.
Aphra produced a simple passkey and slid it on the little reader beside the door.
The reader beeped twice and glowed green.
The abused blast doors slowly slid down into the ground.
Doctor Aphra’s room was a small and simple gray one, windowless, with a metal-framed bunk and several plush yellow chairs.
A small desk on the far wall was overflowing with papers, crumpled wrappers, and empty glasses.
And, indeed, a droid sentry was there to meet them.
It had the battered body of an IG-100 Magnaguard.
But the head was distinctly different.
It was brown, bulky, and tapered down, with grilled lines like a skull.
Its photoreceptors glowed a dull scarlet.
The droid was holding a heavy six-barrel repeater in both hands.
And its tone was surprisingly polite as its old vocabulator crackled to life.
“Exclamation: Master Aphra! What a joy it is to see you again. And here I was, beginning to think you had died in some gruesome fashion without me there to admire the mess.”
Aphra nodded and gestured at the rest of the small group as they filed in.
“Unfortunately for you, Kay, not just yet. I brought back some friends, though.”
The droid’s hands drooped his gun wearily.
“Resignation: Ah. Wonderful. More barely-sentient meatbags to share the kills with.”
Aphra turned back to Obi-Wan and the others.
“This is HK-47. And I promise, he’s nicer than he lets on.”
“Objection: No, I am not.”
“Hush, Kay. These are friendly targets. They’ll make sure you stay alive long enough to keep killing more big, mean meatbags.”
HK-47’s glowing photoreceptors traveled over the clones and Jedi as they filed in.
“Statement: If Master Aphra says you are my allies, then I shall set you as such. But I have had plenty of experience in violence and havoc towards meatbags. I am more than happy to show you my skills. And, if you betray me, demonstrate them.”
Aphra, meanwhile, was rooting around on the desk on the far wall.
He was muttering to himself.
Obi-Wan decided to close in conspicuously.
He peeked over Aphra’s shoulder, and Aphra did not begrudge him.
On his desk was a vast collection of papers and flimsiplast that displayed copied glyphs and sigils Obi-Wan had never seen before.
They were black, jagged, and were always drawn in circles.
“Yeah, I was confused at first too,” Aphra dryly said, sensing Obi-Wan’s mood.
“How did you even discover what they mean?” Obi-Wan asked mildly.
“One of the droid expeditions into the Hell portal brought back this,” Aphra informed.
He pulled up his personal datapad and swiped through several slides before showing the screen to Obi-Wan.
It was a picture of a weathered black stone disk, with writing etched over nine carved concentric layers to the center, which had a closed stone eyelid over a spherical eye embedded in it.
Each circular layer was displaying a visibly different language.
“The UAC’s most closely-guarded asset,” Aphra introduced.
“The Seal of Nine Tongues. I was only permitted to see it after I was sworn to secrecy.”
Obi-Wan squinted at the datapad and took it in his hands.
“Seal of Nine Tongues… I’m terribly sorry, but what, precisely, is this?”
“It has the same message in nine languages,” Aphra shrugged.
“The Seal specifies which ones they are. There’s Argenta, ur-Kittât, Latin, English, Demonic, R’lyehian, Daedric, the Black Speech of Mordor, and The Unspoken Tongue.”
Obi-Wan just nodded absently.
“The only language there that I recognize is…”
“ur-Kittât,” Aphra gravely finished.
“The ancient language of the Sith. No one else at the UAC was proficient in studying it, so I was brought on to decipher it. Then translate it into Galactic Basic, then to the demonic runes.”
“Do we know who made this Seal?”
“No,” Aphra answered, shaking his head.
“The original creator could have been any one of these nine cultures.”
“So what does it say?”
Doctor Aphra grew a pained expression, but he nodded and pointed at the datapad.
“It first introduces itself as the Seal of Nine Tongues, then lists all the languages on the disk and says that each language has the same message. Then it says… ‘In all dimensions, in all timelines and universes, there is but one Hell, with many components, realms, and forms. It hungers behind every thin veil and connects to every reality. It wears many names—Nether, Maw, Oblivion, Warp, Void—but its nature is unchanged. It is the wound at the heart of creation, and the promise of its end. Hell cannot be bargained with. Hell cannot be reasoned with. Only sealed.'”
Obi-Wan was silent as he looked at the picture of the dark, foul artifact.
Even just looking at it made him queasy and teary-eyed.
And for the first time since coming into the UAC, Obi-Wan felt like this was far above his ability to handle.
“That’s how I first discovered this was the legitimate Hell we were dealing with,” Aphra quietly said.
“And I was horrified. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t.” Aphra briefly indicated the space all around him.
“I was unsure who else was in on the secret, who else knew that there was a portal to Hell itself at the center of this place. I decided to get to the bottom of things discreetly, but I didn’t get far before the invasion happened-”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Obi-Wan stopped with a hand up.
“Doctor, you needn’t convince me that you’re innocent. I believe you.”
Aphra visibly relaxed.
“Thank you, General. I didn’t want to convey the wrong idea. I just want to get out of here.”
“As long as you do your part,” Obi-Wan said, clapping him on the back, “and fight the demons alongside us, you’ll make it out all right.”
Aphra gave a firm nod.
He quickly slid the stack of research papers into a saddlebag and slung it around his shoulders.
Aphra next picked up an Obsidian Edition ARC trooper on the corner of his desk, articulated the arms holding the tiny guns, smoothed the kama skirt, and slipped the toy into his bag as well.
That left only a datapad-photograph that Aphra slowly took and lifted to his eyes.
Obi-Wan saw a slightly younger Aphra, alongside his wife and a little baby girl in her arms, in a plain but floral natural background.
Obi-Wan softly said, “She’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” Aphra said simply.
His dark eyes looked downcast after a moment.
“Lona, Chelli… If only they knew. If only I knew that I might not come back… What would I do differently?”
“All we can do is what’s in the moment,” Obi-Wan gravely said.
“If there’s any reason to fight, it’s for them.”
Aphra nodded slightly.
He finally slipped it into his saddlebag, then secured the straps around his waist as well.
He tightened up the holster holding his simple blaster and its ammunition, then exhaled heavily.
“Let’s do it. Kay, we’re leaving.”
“Query: Master, where shall we go to slaughter next?” HK-47 politely asked, turning to face the doctor.
“The Jedi’ll tell you,” Aphra said, gesturing at Obi-Wan nonchalantly.
Obi-Wan wracked his brains, remembering Fisto and Nyx’s conversation.
“The Nihilus labs,” he said, looking into HK-47’s dull photoreceptors.
They were smudged, and the droid’s armor was pockmarked with little cavities and scratches.
“We need to get to the bottom of how and why the UAC opened a portal to Hell. Kay, do you have a map of the facility?”
“Confirmation: I do indeed.”
“And don’t worry, there will be plenty of hostile meatbags along the way.”
HK-47 hoisted his heavy repeater and rotated his shoulders.
“Remark: Oh boy, here I go killing again.”
“Your favorite,” Aphra said, tapping HK’s shoulder as they left his bedroom.
“It’ll be fun, Kay. Just remember to designate these men as friendlies. Otherwise, I’ll take away your weapons.”
HK-47 began walking beside Aphra with a little clank on every step.
“Suggestion: Master, I hope for your sake that you won’t resort to using the filters on my assassination protocol. Now hardly seems like the time to turn them back on.”
Aphra looked back, confused, at HK-47.
“The filters are on. Here. Try to say something you otherwise shouldn’t.”
HK-47 turned to Doctor Aphra as they walked.
“Recommendation: You should kill yourself. Now.”
Korin took a second to respond.
“Fair point, actually. My mistake. All right, look, again: as long as you don’t harm any of these very kind Jedi or clones, then you can run free.”
“Observation: Sounds like a fair deal to me, Master. Waking up for the first time in four thousand years and instantly smearing flesh on the wall has put me in a good mood. The fact that you approve of it is merely the icing on the cake.”
Aphra’s eyes visibly widened.
“Four thousand years?”
“Admission: I, too, was shocked at the discrepancy in my internal clock and my personal perception of time. It appears that things have not exactly improved since the times of the Old Republic.”
“This is the first time you’re telling me that?” Aphra asked as they finally came within earshot of the rest of the chatting clones in the quarters.
“Reasoning: You did not ask me before, Master.”
Aphra visibly deflated.
Obi-Wan, however, was thinking.
Four thousand years ago.
That was roughly around the time of Nihilus!
He chose to hold off on saying anything at the moment– now was not the time, probably the Nihilus Labs would be best– but the thought still lingered intrusively.
Could it be that this droid knew something important?
________________________________________________________________
The wind whipped at Anakin’s hair as he squinted into the power pylons rising far above his head.
They were expertly latticed with metal beams, with wires dipping to the next pylon across a chasm.
One towering pylon was on one little island of the laboratory’s building, and the next was on the other island.
Between the two pylons was nothing but a deep, dark chasm reaching all the way to the bottom of the crater that this part of the UAC had been built in.
Anakin turned back.
Standing on the roof of the power plant were Ahsoka, Cal, Jaro Tapal, Rex, and a trooper each from the 501st, 41st, and 13th Battalions.
Anakin pointed at the tip of the pylon, blinking with a red light amidst the navy-blue sky.
“We need someone up there to secure the electrical wires. Cal, Ahsoka, you’re the nimble ones. Once we know the cables are safe, we can ride them like ziplines to the next building. We open it from the inside, and let the rest of the troopers advance.”
“Troopers, keep an eye out for them as they go,” Jaro Tapal added firmly.
“We cannot allow them to be ambushed up there.” Tapal turned his attention to Cal Kestis next, and affixed him with a heavy look.
“You’ve trained for this, boy. You can do it.”
Sensing the cue, Anakin turned to Ahsoka.
After a few seconds of thought, he just patted her on the back and said, “Go and do what you do best.”
“You mean make trouble?” Ahsoka dryly asked.
“Well…” Anakin gave an allowing nod.
“Yeah. But not for Cal. He’s got enough on his mind already.” Anakin gave a dry two-finger salute to them both.
Ahsoka and Cal glanced at each other, nodded, and ran to the edge of the roof.
With a Force-assisted jump, they sailed over to the pylon and hit the metal lattices.
Both Padawans began scaling rapidly up the structure.
“It’s cute,” Rex remarked dryly, keeping his eye on them.
“The way you two dote on your Padawans. Reminds me of the way we treat cadets, or the shinies, or any battle newbies.”
“Rex, you know by now that Ahsoka’s experienced,” Anakin was quick to say.
” ‘Course,” Rex acknowledged.
“It’s the care that gets to me. It’s personal. Cute. I, uh, don’t think you’d have that kinda relationship with me, General.”
Anakin smiled.
“All you have to do is ask.”
Rex lowered his head briefly.
“Ah, no thanks.”
The metal in Ahsoka’s orange hands was cold and ridged and thin.
She couldn’t help but feel her fingers stiffen and become hard to bend.
She looked up at Cal, who was a whole lattice ahead of her.
“Come on, let me lead now!” she called up to him.
“No!” Cal yelled down.
“Unless you want me to look up your skirt.”
Ahsoka’s eyes bulged, and she clung just a bit tighter to the pylon.
“Uh, good point. Just go a bit slower!” She sighed once she was done.
“Man, this kid’s a mountain goat,” Ahsoka muttered to herself.
Indeed, Cal was a natural at climbing and clinging– more than the average Jedi.
They had long passed the point of simply leaping from one beam to the next.
They began thinning out, and the two Padawans needed to now free-climb the easily scalable pylon.
So Ahsoka began seeing Cal leap from one beam to the next using only his arm strength and the Force.
Just watching it made her shoulders ache.
In no time at all, Cal had reached the level of the pylon’s arms.
He looked down.
His hand outstretched.
And Ahsoka suddenly found herself floating in the air up to Cal’s level.
Ahsoka was soon deposited down on the wider, thicker beam with a metal clank.
Her knees were trembling, and she clung firmly to a lattice beam above her head.
“I-I could do that by myself.”
“But you didn’t have to.” Cal shrugged and patted her shoulder.
“You did great, Ahsoka. We’re okay up here. You check the right cable, and I’ll do the left one.”
As Cal easily traversed the crossworking metal beams on foot, Ahsoka stupidly looked over the edge of the pylon.
Darkness and the far-distant energy plant roof awaited her below, making Ahsoka feel far smaller than she should be.
It seemed to rush towards her, and Ahsoka quickly drew her eyes level.
Her knees began to bounce again.
Ahsoka guided herself to the heavy, reinforced arm with her hands tightly gripping the overhead lattice until it stopped entirely.
She let go of it and put one trembling foot down.
Then the other.
The wind was cold, and fierce.
Her leg wobbled concerningly.
But she got to the arm-thick cable end about ten seconds later.
She stooped down to lower her center of gravity and to inspect the cable attachment.
Sure enough, it was intact.
Ahsoka’s hand rested with trepidation just above the humming power line.
Sure, the enormous cable was covered by insulation, but Ahsoka did not want to take any chances.
She sent a pulse of Force through the attachment and the cable.
And just by this means, Ahsoka determined that this cable could, indeed, hold their weight.
A sound drew Ahsoka’s attention upward.
It was something akin to screeching metal, but it wasn’t the sound of the pylon swaying in the wind.
It was distinctly different, somehow.
Ahsoka’s eyes shot all across the Bracca skies until they settled on something standing out in the atmosphere on her eye level.
It was a floating, fiery skull.
Ahsoka blinked firmly and refocused, unsure if she was seeing it right.
But indeed she was.
The tiny but predatory skull was just bobbing along in the air like it was treading water, and the flames were blue and enveloped the whole skull in an aura.
Then the skull spun to face her.
Its eyes glowed a vivid white-blue, and its gaping mouth began shrieking like a lost soul.
And it sped for her on a direct path, becoming a suicide bomber.
Ahsoka yelped and shot out a blast of Force from her fist.
It struck the skull and shattered it into a hundred shards of bone.
But soon, three more of the shrieking lost souls materialized from the atmosphere and began speeding towards Ahsoka.
Three more of those Force blasts took them out of action too.
Ahsoka could hear Cal doing more or less the same thing on the other end of the pylon arm.
Suddenly not as afraid of heights, Ahsoka danced carefully on the steel beams over to Cal in time to see him shatter the last lost soul.
Cal was panting and trembling as he craned his head to look at Ahsoka.
“What the heck was that?” Cal exclaimed.
Ahsoka gave a small, incredulous shrug.
“I don’t know!”
Ahsoka’s comlink chirped, drawing her gaze.
“Ahsoka! What’s going on up there? We detected something odd!”
Ahsoka floundered for words before she could answer Anakin.
“It’s… Look, Master, it’s skulls. On fire. Just hovering up here.”
“Of course,” a trooper could be heard from the other end.
“Skulls on fire, why not throw that into the mix? Kriff it, throw all the poodoo at the wall at this point.”
“But they’re gone now, and we still did our job,” Cal chimed in.
“Come on up here and let’s travel with the cables!”
As the Jedi and three clones began to climb the pylon with ascension cables and the Force, Ahsoka turned to Cal.
His hair bounced in the wind, Ahsoka noticed.
“Man. But you know, the scariest thing up here? It’s still the height. Did your Master train you for it?”
Cal gave a half-and-half gesture with his hands; he was still free-standing without handholds.
“My Master noted how much I liked climbing things that shouldn’t be climbed, and just ran with it. But he didn’t train me to fight skulls on fire.”
“Neither did mine,” Ahsoka dryly said.
“Shocker.”
The rest of the Jedi and clones reached them in short order.
Ahsoka and Cal helped the troopers float up towards the end.
Once he was on the same level as her, Anakin gently clapped her on the back.
“You did good, Snips.”
Ahsoka smiled, feeling warm despite the wind.
The clones and Jedi produced their zipline attachments from their utility belts and fitted them to the cables.
They had to go to their widest possible setting.
Jaro Tapal was the first to zip on the insulated power cable, and once he reached some distance, Rex followed.
Then Cal.
When it was Ahsoka’s turn, she stepped off, and she had to suppress a yelp.
The pulley wheel of her zipline attachment squeaked wildly at breakneck speeds, and wind flattened her clothes into her skin, deafened her ears, and forced tears from her eyes.
Luckily for them, the power cables were taut and didn’t dip too much.
Ahsoka found herself reaching the end shortly, building up speed.
She gathered some Force around her, slowing her momentum.
And on the arm of the next pylon, Jaro Tapal was reaching out for her.
By the time Ahsoka reached the end, she had slowed so much, she could step onto the pylon like stepping from a shuttle ramp onto the earth.
Another two troopers came behind her, and Ahsoka assisted with it.
Then Anakin sped along too, and Ahsoka caught him with the Force as well.
The final clone trooper, one of the 501st, was speeding along just behind Anakin.
But just as that trooper was about to land, Ahsoka spotted four more of the Lost Souls emerging from directly beneath the pylon and shriek for him in a straight line.
The trooper, startled, pulled off his DC-15 from his belt and began shooting wildly at them while zip-lining, but the fiery skulls were too tiny of a target.
The other two troopers began firing.
Anakin seized the trooper and yanked.
He was pulled to the pylon with a startled yelp, and his armored torso hit the pylon arm, making his arms scrabble for a handhold on the metal.
The last of the skulls were finally blasted into pieces.
The 501st trooper exhaled heavily while dangling there.
“Thanks, General.”
“Anytime, Charger,” Anakin warmly said, hoisting him up with a hand.
But just before Charger could get both feet on the ground, yet another Lost Soul materialized, screamed loudly from below, and beelined for Charger.
He yelped, losing his footing, and Anakin yanked on him, but the Lost Soul flew straight into Charger’s skull before Anakin could readjust him.
Charger’s head shattered like ice, sending shards of his helmet flying.
Anakin instinctively let go, and the dead, headless trooper fell forever down into the abyss.
“Charger!” Rex cried, reaching with a hand.
After a second, he hesitantly lowered it.
Anakin stood there, stunned.
Blood wet his cheek and his forehead.
His wide eyes slowly trailed the descent of the flailing body, down, down, down.
Until there was nothing to see anymore.
Both of Anakin’s hands were shaking, and he was breathing quickly but shallowly.
Ahsoka’s hand slowly reached for his.
Anakin flinched away at the contact, however, and he regarded Ahsoka with alarm– some kind of shell-shock, perhaps, or outrage.
“…He was right there,” Anakin breathed.
His trembling hands formed fists.
“Right there! And I didn’t… I couldn’t–!”
“Master,” Ahsoka softly began, her hands up.
“I-it’ll be fine. You’ll–”
“Fine?!” Anakin snapped, and Ahsoka flinched back.
The maroon blood wetting Anakin’s face and hair made him look… “Fine?! What do you mean, fine? Charger’s dead. Dead! And he slipped through my hands, and he…” Anakin’s gaze flickered wildly between Ahsoka and where Charger had been just a few seconds ago.
“You did all in your power,” Jaro Tapal rumbled, approaching from his front and laying a firm purple hand on his shoulder.
“We do not blame you, nor do we hate you.”
“All in my power…” Anakin repeated numbly.
His face creased, this time in anger.
His fists did not loosen.
“That was all in my power?”
Tapal did not answer.
He just kept his large hand on Anakin’s shoulder, like a father on his son’s.
The other clone troopers and Cal remained respectfully silent as well.
“…That is not all in my power,” Anakin darkly denied.
“I’m better than that, Master Tapal. I should have been able to save him.”
“And I’ve no doubt that you can save many more,” Tapal soothed, squishing his shoulder with measured strength.
“Be patient. Be kind to yourself. What would you say to someone in your position?”
Anakin’s mouth twisted uncomfortably.
But he gave an acknowledging nod, and Tapal smiled.
He patted Anakin’s back twice, then left to give Anakin some time to himself.
Ahsoka, spotting Anakin’s state, stayed right beside him, but said nothing.
“General,” the yellow 13th trooper announced to Jaro Tapal.
“The refinery is directly beneath us. We’ll begin descending now.”
As the troopers began doing so, Ahsoka reached for Anakin’s hand again.
This time, Anakin allowed Ahsoka’s hand into his, and he squeezed it.
Ahsoka still chose to not say anything, and she figured this was progress.
“I am not going to let you go too,” Anakin whispered, his forehead still creased in anger.
“I’ll always save you, Ahsoka. Always.”
Ahsoka squeezed Anakin’s hand in return.
“I know.”
A small, profound silence settled in.
It was broken only by the sounds of clones rappelling.
It wasn’t long before Ahsoka patted Anakin’s fist.
“Come on. We have a job to do.”
Anakin looked down on her, and a small smile came to him.
He nodded gruffly.
________________________________________________________________
Charger had been the one with the expertise required to detonate doors and hack electrical panels.
So the roof door on top of the refinery was still locked.
Until Anakin jabbed his lightsaber into the door and quickly carved a glowing orange hole into the metal.
He stepped through first, and the rest of the strike group followed into the staff-only staircase.
It was lighted inside, but still gloomy and redecorated by the demonic invasion and destruction.
But it was not abandoned.
The instant that Anakin saw a collection of six bloodied Z-secs standing on the stairs- in clone trooper armor, rotting and hissing- Anakin closed in, bellowed, and kicked the first one hard in the chest.
He spun and tumbled all the way down the stairs before any of the others could fire, knocking over the rest, piling them in a heap at the landing.
That left them open to blasterfire from the yellow-painted 13th trooper just behind him.
After quickly descending the stairs of the staff-only section, Anakin crushed a lock on yet another authorized door, then kicked the bloodstained thing open.
Anakin stepped through the door to find a dark metal corridor, with one side open and overlooking a central processing pillar in a cathedral-sized central space.
The interior of the refinery greeted him not with silence, but with the low, ever-present moan of a place in pain.
Metal pipes burbled and gurgled on the walls, and the Force recoiled the moment he crossed the threshold— a roiling sea of anguish, hate, and something deeper… something ancient.
The lights flickered with a sickly red glow.
Shadows moved where they shouldn’t, flickering across walls.
The steel floors were warped and scorched in strange red glyphs that, when he stepped on them, pulsed faintly beneath his boots, like veins under dying skin.
Burned-out terminals sparked further along the corridor, their screens shattered.
Some still looped static-laced audio, repeating the same message.
“Demonic presence at unsafe levels. Lockdown in effect. Do not listen to the whispers.”
Anakin could hear those whispers anyway.
They weren’t coming from the speakers.
A UAC hologram chimed to life beside a row of consoles up ahead.
“If you have been dismembered by a demon, please contact HR immediately. Your feedback is invaluable to improving workplace conditions,” the hologram cheerfully said.
Anakin gave an irate glare at the hologram as it powered down.
His grip on his silent lightsaber tightened audibly.
Ahsoka, Rex, and Cal followed him closely, with Jaro Tapal and the two clones at the rear.
Melter, the 41st trooper, swung his Z-6 uneasily around, while the 13th trooper, Veggie, shook his head briefly.
“Don’t like this,” Veggie muttered; no one felt like raising their voice.
“Could be anything in here.”
Anakin’s teeth gritted.
So why was he even speaking?
The cheery UAC hologram shimmered into existence once more.
“The voluntary Soul Extraction Program is a resounding success! And for those who didn’t volunteer, don’t worry—we already took care of that paperwork for you.”
“Soul extraction,” Cal whispered to Jaro Tapal.
“Master, do you know anything about that?”
“It’s a Dark Side practice,” Tapal gruffly informed.
“Secrets only the Sith knew. I never bothered learning if it was real or just a myth. I don’t concern myself with the lures and temptations of the enemy.”
That made Anakin’s stomach twist uncomfortably.
It couldn’t be said that he was the same.
“So this entire operation was made by the Sith?” Cal pressured.
“Maybe,” Tapal allowed.
“I don’t know how much the Sith and these demons have in common, boy. No one does.”
A scorched Republic helmet lay at Anakin’s feet, split clean down the middle.
It hit a little too hard, after seeing one explode in front of his face.
“Clones fought here,” he muttered.
Anakin knelt and touched the soot beside the body, then ran a hand over the long, jagged indentation in the metal ground.
“Blaster fire. Claw marks. Cal, take a look, see what happened.”
While Cal did just that, Ahsoka dutifully began looking over the consoles, while Rex moved to one of the thick pipes on the wall.
They were the source of the red glow of the refinery, since some pipe sections were see-through.
Rex peeked into one.
And after a moment, Rex recoiled, his blaster hands raising instinctually towards the pipe.
They soon lowered.
“General,” Rex called, but his voice was weaker than it should be.
It was that tone that drew Anakin up.
He quickly made his way beside his captain and peeked into the pipe too.
There was a current of red, electric plasma inside the pipe.
And in the scarlet current, after a few seconds, he saw them: outlines of distinctly human faces contorted in anguish, their expressions trapped mid-scream.
And the whispers in Anakin’s ear grew more distinct.
He could finally, just barely, make out what they were saying: “Help us.”
Anakin’s breath froze.
His stomach turned.
This wasn’t just a refinery.
It was a factory of torment.
Anakin’s trembling grip on his lightsaber tightened so hard, it almost creaked.
Rex, meanwhile, pointed at it, his voice subdued.
“That’s… General, what… is this?”
Veggie came beside them next.
After a few shocked moments, Veggie turned his attention down to his datapad.
He began swiping through the shared codex that had been accumulating.
“Uh, General Kenobi’s made some discoveries,” he mumbled under his yellow helmet.
“Seems like this is… Well, according to the data from the records hall… Argent Energy.”
Anakin’s eyes furrowed.
So there was a name for it.
Argent Energy.
“And it’s…” Veggie took a second.
“Sir, I’m not pulling your leg, but General Kenobi’s sources say that Argent Energy’s, uh, mined from Hell.” Veggie let it linger a few seconds.
“I’m not kidding, sir. Our guesses were correct. Hell. The place of the damned, where all the lost linger in fire and pain, that place. Hell. They figured it out, how to strip-mine that Hell.” Veggie’s voice grew tighter as he finished.
“…Kriffing…” Rex was at a loss for words.
He leaned his hands on the pipe and bowed his head in disbelief.
“So it’s not hyperbole. We’re not just mistaken. This is…”
Anakin had to turn away from the wailing Argent pipeline.
The glyphs, the Gore Nests, the demons, the carnage… All of a sudden, everything made sense.
The rest of the group remained silent, processing it.
“Of all the things in the galaxy,” Jaro Tapal finally, quietly said.
“Of all the elements in the will of the Force. We had to be the ones to come into contact with Hell. We’re too far in to turn back now. All that’s left is to push through.”
Ahsoka and Cal’s eyes met, and Anakin could see the doubt and fear flicker between them.
He really couldn’t blame them.
Ahsoka then turned to the console again and tried to twist a few dials.
But Ahsoka yelped and jumped back as the console began leaking thick blood from in between the dials and buttons.
It ran in red rivulets down the metal sides, pooled on the ground, and began to grow.
Anakin spotted Ahsoka’s hand shaking as she backed away to come beside him.
“Master,” Ahsoka whispered, torn between looking at him or the bleeding console.
She didn’t need to say anything else.
Anakin softly ushered her along, remaining just behind her.
Anakin’s gaze turned to the left, out of the ceiling-tall window into the center of the refinery.
It was massive and cathedral-like, deeper than he expected, its walls wide enough to comfortably fit a few LAATs or AT-TEs.
The central control pillar was as wide as a small wroshyr tree on Kashyyyk.
Pipes and cylinder pistons attached to the central control pillar hissed and whirred in rhythmic intervals—almost like artificial breathing pumps.
The Argent conduits flowed into and out of the control pillar like blood into a heart, all glowing with that unnatural scarlet hue.
Argent.
Anakin hated it, but part of him… understood it.
Power extracted from suffering.
Energy drawn from something not quite alive, but never truly dead.
It reminded him of the first time he’d intentionally touched the Dark Side—in the sand, on Tatooine, when he’d slain the Sand People who had slain his mother.
This place ran on that.
Barriss Offee said it best.
It was oozing with the Dark Side.
Veggie was talking, only just loud enough so their group could hear.
“General Kenobi’s also unlocked the designations of other demons we might encounter from the records hall. Seems the UAC was, er, busy. Revenants, Cacodemons, Mancubi… Oh, boy. We’re in for a long one.”
Their hallway led into a steep metal stairway that led into the central atrium where the control pillar was.
Now that there wasn’t a wall to absorb the sound, the deep hum of the pillar could clearly be heard.
As well as the hiss of a gore nest.
Anakin led the way down the stairs to the floor level of the central pillar.
It loomed menacingly above them, whispering and rumbling and groaning.
Anakin glared up at it, then to the gore nest at the pillar’s base, right in front of it.
This gore nest wasn’t exactly the same as the first one, but it had the same general design.
Anakin hated this one too.
He looked over his shoulder expectantly and indicated the nest with a hand.
Cal, Ahsoka, and Tapal ignited their vivid lightsabers for a silent answer.
Rex, Veggie, and Melter primed their weapons with a small whirr.
So Anakin nodded in confirmation.
He pierced the wet pus sac containing the nest’s heart with his mechanical hand.
He ripped the throbbing heart free effortlessly and threw it aside.
The nest wailed deafeningly before blasting into chunks.
Flashes fizzled to life all over the central chamber.
Far too many.
When they died down, most were just imps, Z-secs, and Hell Knights.
But there were three new types that Anakin hadn’t seen before.
And one was hovering ten feet in front and above their heads.
Anakin finally ignited his lightsaber and craned his head to see it in the dim red light.
It was a skeleton, three whole meters tall, with visible mechanical implants and covered in scarlet blood.
It was wearing an armored breastplate and jetpack, carrying twin Multiple Launch Rocket Batteries on its back that hung over its shoulders.
“A Revenant!” Veggie exclaimed, raising his blaster.
The MLRBs flashed, and a torrent of small missiles flurried out and began striking everything in the group’s vicinity.
Before too many could wreck the facility, Jaro Tapal’s hand stretched out, and the remaining missiles turned back to shriek at the rest of the demons, as well as the Revenant.
The skeleton blasted into pieces.
Imps turned into a paste, and Hell Knights staggered to a halt.
This gave Melter a chance to turn and hose down one Hell Knight with fast blasterfire that was getting too close for comfort.
The other two Revenants stitched a small line of explosives into the ground in their midst, splitting the group.
Anakin, Rex, and Cal found themselves closest to the Revenants, while Tapal, Melter, Veggie, and Ahsoka began taking care of the rest.
Anakin snarled, leaped up to the next hovering Revenant, and punched hard with the Force.
His right fist hit the breastplate with a heavy clang.
A coconut-sized hole appeared in its upper chest and staggered the demon, sending them both to the earth.
Anakin followed up with a precise pierce through the shrieking Revenant’s skull, then ripped his saber out horizontally, severing one of its rocket batteries.
It clattered nearby two gathering imps before loudly exploding, turning the imps into shredded meat.
The final Revenant, seeing that Anakin was the biggest problem, dashed in midair out of reach.
This allowed more melee-range demons to close in.
Which was a mistake, when fighting Jedi.
Cal Kestis was spinning his saber madly in a defensive maneuver to keep any prospective imps back.
It also occasionally deflected a fireball or two.
But a Hell Knight noticed his open position from the rear and began charging at him from behind, forcing Cal to adapt.
Cal leaped up right before the Knight gave a heavy swipe at him, and he soared in a graceful backflip to land atop the Knight’s back.
His lightsaber pierced the Knight’s shoulder all the way to its pelvis, which sent it toppling, and Cal rolled on the floor before quickly getting back to his feet.
Rex’s aim-and-shoot dual shots were precise and quick, headshotting imps and disabling the arms of those about to throw fireballs.
He was always on the move and looking around, but never moving more than he needed to.
Rex soon spotted one Hell Knight look wildly between Ahsoka and Anakin, evidently trying to figure out who to attack next.
So Rex fired three quick shots into the Knight’s thick skull, which only served to get its attention.
“Hey, ugly!” Rex shouted over the noise of battle.
He waved while stepping into just the right position.
“Come and get me!”
The Knight did not need to be told twice.
It barreled right at Rex, stomping on imps that got in its way.
Quickly calculating its trajectory and stride length, Rex tossed three thermal detonators from his side onto the ground in the Knight’s path, then began hosing the Knight’s skull down with full-auto blasterfire.
And sure enough, the Knight stepped onto one grenade, making it explode under his foot.
The other two blew up shortly afterward, sending it into a staggered state.
Rex got in close quickly, stuffed the barrel of one pistol into the Knight’s eye socket, and held the trigger down until the Knight collapsed completely.
Meanwhile, Melter’s machine gun fire was pattering all over the walls and machinery in tiny explosions, sending demons running for cover or leaping out of the way.
The slower Z-secs and the shield troopers were caught in the fire, though, and went down quickly.
But the only reason why he was even safe to do so was because Jaro Tapal was tirelessly swirling his blue saberstaff and using the Force to redirect projectiles and control the battlefield.
Body parts all around them were flying, and fireballs, micro-rockets, and blasterfire were sent everywhere else, smashing into consoles and rupturing pipes.
Smoke began to fill the stuffy, warm air.
And Ahsoka in turn was protecting Veggie, but not as masterfully.
Veggie’s normal DC-15 was on full auto, easily chaining from one target into the next.
Clones and Jedi were working overtime, and for a while, it seemed like they might be gaining momentum.
Then reinforcements spawned in.
Half a dozen of those flying, fiery skulls materialized with more flashes, then shot wildly around the refinery.
Along with two more Hell Knights and another Revenant that Master Tapal and Melter rushed for.
“Master!” Ahsoka cried above the sound of battle.
“It’s them!”
And Anakin, after slicing his imp in half, looked up and scowled nastily.
He deactivated his lightsaber, shot out a hand, and one of the Lost Souls shattered from a telekinetic blast.
This, of course, only drew the attention of the other Lost Souls, which began screaming for him too.
Anakin’s fists pistoned back and forth, blasting out one Force ball after another to hit the Lost Souls as they closed in.
He leaped back right before the last one kamikaze’d into him, skidded on the metal floor, and swept his arm with the aid of the Force to meet the demon about to punch him.
Anakin’s metal hand broke the collarbone of a Hell Knight and traveled at a diagonal angle deep into his chest.
A small fountain of blood spurted out and got the metal floor wet and slick.
Anakin snarled in the staggered Knight’s face, redirected his hand, and cut into the Knight’s ribcage instead.
His fist seized around the Knight’s heart.
With a mighty yank, Anakin ripped the demon’s quivering heart out, with a stringy vein still attached.
Anakin’s fist clenched, and the heart turned into squishy pulp in his grip.
Ahsoka made an audible startled sound, but Anakin didn’t care.
He reignited his saber, swept it in a wide arc to clear the area, then leaped to one of the pipes connecting to the central processing pillar.
Meanwhile, Jaro Tapal was trying to use the same Force-missile technique as before to destroy his own Revenant, and it worked, but the Revenant had sent out more missiles than could destroy him, so the rest flew erratically around once the Revenant had turned into bone dust.
And one exploded too close to Tapal.
He bellowed in pain and clutched his left arm, now burned through the skin.
Anakin’s boots landed on the arm-thin pipe, then sprung to the next one.
The goal was to draw the remaining Revenant’s attention away from the others by closing in on it.
And sure enough, the Revenant did just that.
Another flurry of micro-missiles blazed out.
Anakin’s hand swept most of the missiles aside, which struck the central pillar in blossoms of flame.
Anakin landed on another thin pipe, reached out, seized the Revenant, and yanked.
The airborne demon was pulled, wailing, into arm’s reach, and Anakin’s lightsaber sliced right through it diagonally.
As well as its jetpack.
The result was an explosion that was only mitigated by a lightspeed-reflex Force barrier that blew Anakin onto another pipe connecting to the central pillar.
He hung there by his left hand for a few seconds, dazed.
A Hell Knight saw the opportunity.
He pried an operating console out of the ground and tossed the whole thing at Anakin.
It severed the pipe he was hanging on, sending him toppling to the ground.
Unfortunately, that was just enough to jump-start Anakin’s reflexes.
He landed on his feet like a cat, then hurled his saber at the offending Hell Knight, which embedded itself deep in the Knight’s chest and stunned it in place.
Anakin dashed over to the nearest shield soldier, who turned to him in shock.
This made the Z-sec open to stray shots from Melter’s erratic bursts, which sent it toppling.
Anakin took the shield from him just before he fell, however, and Anakin reached out a hand again.
The lightsaber in the Hell Knight swirled in a fast circle inside the demon, splitting it in two, then shot back to Anakin’s hand with a heavy smack.
It was just in time to meet the heavy downward slam of another Hell Knight.
Anakin raised his shield at the right moment, deflecting the blow’s energy to the side and halting the Knight for a split second.
Anakin followed up the timed parry by now embedding his shield’s sharp edge deep into the Hell Knight’s chest.
It was awkwardly stuck in him like a popcorn hull between teeth.
When the Knight bent back upright, Anakin gave a telekinetic blast at his knees that sent him toppling over, making it easy for Anakin to decapitate him with a loud bellow.
Once Anakin did just that, it was just sporadic fodder demons that Veggie and Melter took down easily enough.
The facility was smoking and sparking, torn apart and afire.
But…
“Demonic presence eliminated. Lockdown disengaged.”
Those automated words from the speaker system made it all worth it.
Anakin sagged, suddenly feeling tired.
Cal ran back to Jaro Tapal, while Ahsoka ran to him.
“Hey,” Ahsoka breathlessly said.
“Hey, you all right?”
Anakin nodded tightly, then hooked his saber back on his belt.
“Those things you did with the demons,” Ahsoka noted thoughtfully.
“You made it look so easy, even though we have to use twice the amount of Force we otherwise would.”
Anakin suddenly remembered that detail Luminara had pointed out.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said.
“But… I didn’t need to. I was just using my normal Force levels.”
“Normal Force,” Ahsoka breathed in awe, looking over him once more.
“You mean… Well, you are the Chosen One. Maybe that has something to do with it? Maybe you can bypass their resistance to the Force?”
“Maybe,” Anakin wearily said.
Chosen One, Chosen One, over and over again.
Even Ahsoka wasn’t immune.
“Look, let’s just get the doors open for the rest of our forces.”
Ahsoka must have sensed his unease, because she just nodded along.
Anakin could glance over and see Cal look concerningly over Jaro Tapal’s large burn wound on his upper arm, and Tapal gritting his teeth and insistently saying “No, it’s fine,” as he bandaged it with some bacta pads.
Rex, Veggie, and Melter were all together, checking up on each other– Melter’s sore shoulder, Veggie’s bruised hip.
The more the troopers went on in these conditions, the more likely they were to incur casualties.
On the other end of the central atrium was another steep stairway leading up to the main control center.
Anakin flew up these stairs, entered the small room, chopped down the three Z-secs that were wandering inside, and went to the console before even Ahsoka could catch up with him, never mind the others.
As Anakin found the lever controls for the tramway blast doors and pulled them, Rex entered the room and came alongside him.
“Begging your pardon, General, but we just received new orders from General Kenobi,” he quietly said in Anakin’s ear.
“They’re asking us to go to the comms array and try to reactivate them to get in contact with our forces in orbit. Kenobi’ll investigate the laboratories and learn more about this Hell portal inside the drill site.”
Anakin took a second to think it over before nodding.
“Sounds all right to me. Once that does happen, though, we should find the armory. Hopefully that has the right amount of ordnance to destroy the portal and this refinery.”
“…Sir, I’m all for stopping this. But I’m also not sure if doing that will only make things worse,” Rex slowly got out.
“What if the Argent plasma’s highly volatile to the outside air? Or what if it causes a biohazard spill?”
“Kenobi can figure out more details,” Anakin brushed aside.
“I’d prefer to be ready and able to shut this place down permanently when the time comes.”
The rest of the group had entered by now and was checking out the control center.
Melter was kneeling beside one of the dead commanding officers and searching his corpse.
And Veggie whistled and reached for something lying next to another corpse.
He pried it out of the body’s grasp and held it up.
“Carabast,” Veggie whispered reverently.
“An anti-material rifle?”
“What in the blazes did the UAC give for an excuse to get their hands on one of these?” Melter asked, looking up.
“Psssh, I dunno,” Veggie dismissed, hoisting the high-power weapon.
“They musta needed it, though. This thing can pierce an AT-RT and still kill some poor sap a hundred yards after.”
“Then we should only use it when we really need to,” Rex ordered firmly.
Veggie nodded and slung it over his shoulder.
He pocketed the two spare magazines the trooper had on him as well.
“Let’s move to the station to greet them,” Jaro Tapal suggested, a hand tenderly on his bandaged arm.
“I’m sure there’ll be more fodder along the way, but nothing we cannot handle. Right, Cal?”
Cal nodded quickly, still eyeing Jaro Tapal’s wound.
“Y-yeah, Master. We’ll make it.”
________________________________________________________________
The pathway to the Nihilus Labs required Obi-Wan’s group to descend in a cargo elevator to a series of underground passages connecting to the buildings closest to the drill site.
The only problem was, the elevator lobby was currently full of fodder demons and a glowing, pungent gore nest.
Obi-Wan could sense the voids in the Force moving around just around the corner.
After confirming the number, he turned to the rest of his group, who were clumped together and anxiously awaiting his strategy.
“They won’t be a problem,” he said, keeping his voice down.
“We can drive them away from the elevator doors and into the hallway. As long as you troopers stay back, we can bottleneck them in this hallway. Fisto and I’ll take care of the heavier demons. And, er, Kay? Once we give the signal, start doing what you do best.”
The banged-up droid hoisted his six-barrel repeater.
“Statement: I am most ready to engage in unadulterated violence.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Master Kenobi,” Kit Fisto intoned quietly.
Beside him, Aphra drew his sidearm and nodded.
Obi-Wan took a few seconds.
Then counted down from his fingers.
Three.
Two.
One.
I know you want to see the Doomslayer rescue them, and I swear on Big Macs: we’ll get to that.
He’ll be in the next chapter.
But there’s more to a Doom crossover than just the Doomguy, and I believe it would be best if the SW characters got exposed to Hell, and see what they can do on their own, without the Slayer.
It would make the Slayer far more powerful in comparison and give perspective and meaning to his power levels, even with the balance I made between gameplay and lore.
This won’t make everyone happy, but I promise, I have a plan.
Unlike the Sequel writers, am I right?