Chapter 42: The Director

The last twenty minutes had passed in absolute silence, broken only by the rhythmic groan of the metallic structures we clung to as it echoed through the elevator shaft.

The heat was rising steadily, becoming almost unbearable, as if we were climbing straight into the first circle of hell. Black and white spots began to dance before my eyes from the stifling air. We had to keep stopping just to catch our breath.

With a thunderous crash, the steel doors were blown off their tracks. A moment later, two dark figures leaped into the vast chamber.

Uneven, flickering light made it difficult to discern the details of our surroundings. Anything could be lurking in the shadows cast by the high columns carved directly from the living rock. Only the central portion of the room held any semblance of illumination. A harsh, reddish-orange glow cast bizarre patterns across the cavern, the ceiling of which was lost in the gloom.

An immense sphere, shimmering from within, lay imprisoned behind a labyrinth of pipes, wires, sensors, and the Force only knows what else.

"A core reactor..."

"Don't you mean nuclear?"

"No. Different operating principle. This converts the thermal energy of magma into electricity. But I thought this thing was still in the development stage..."

"Correct, my apprentice," a distorted mechanical voice rang out like a thunderclap. "Development stolen from the Separatists!"

A sense of danger blared like a klaxon in my mind.

"You are here at last. I confess, I expected your journey to take far less time. It seems I overestimated the capabilities of my finest pupils."

Humanoid figures began to emerge slowly from behind the columns, as if materializing from the shadows. Heavy cloaks concealed the strangers, making it impossible to identify them. Only one figure, the tallest, was familiar to us. A black mask covered his face. His voice, warped by vocoder speakers, echoed through the hall.

"Let us not draw this out. You have already bled us far too much in this war. Your choice is simple: die, or join us."

"Rector, aren't you afraid of the Emperor's wrath? It’s unlikely he’s overlooked your betrayal. And why betray the Empire at all? You stand no chance in this war."

"Naïve little fool. The Emperor is not as omnipotent as you believe. He is nothing but a liar capable of tossing around grand words. I only regret that I did not see it sooner. And as a result, all I received was a pack of stupid children!" He practically snarled the last words. "Was I, one of Count Dooku's loyal pupils, meant to spend the rest of my life nursing pathetic weaklings?! No. I intend to stand at the head of a new order. Vader and the Grand Inquisitor himself will bow to me, or they will die!"

"You've simply traded one Master for another. The Separatists are unlikely to let you near the seat of power..."

"They will have no choice. Only the strong are fit to lead. I have waited far too long..."

He cut himself off mid-sentence, as if remembering something.

"I’ve spent too much time talking to future corpses. You aren't leaving this place alive regardless."

"What happened to the option of joining you?"

"I changed my mind. Kamma, kill him. This lapdog of the Grand Inquisitor has ruined my plans one too many times. The Force has sustained him until now, but today it turns away. Kamma, kill him and prove your loyalty to the new order. It is your only chance to survive."

"Well, that sounds promising. But I think I’ll pass." Though the helmet concealed his face, I could swear Kamma was smiling. "You see, I don’t trust men with a weakness for female beauty. They’re far too easy to deceive. Tifa, darling, step out from behind your Master."

I noticed her then, too. A familiar presence in the Force is hard to mistake. The Twi'lek, who had been hiding her face under a hood, stepped forward to stand beside her teacher.

Oh, boy... this scene looks familiar. Apparently, the apprentice took after the teacher in every way. It was a pity that this time I was one of the main actors. Frankly, I would have preferred to be lurking near the ceiling with a longblaster in my hands, or at least to have an army of monsters at my back.

"Master, let me finish this personally." Her eyes burned with hatred. "They were always ahead. I was always left staring at their backs. But now you have taught me enough. I want to kill them!"

"No, you are too valuable to me..."

Wow, look at how tenderly he speaks to her. I thought my partner said that just to get a rise out of him, but here we are.

A short audio signal from the comm-link made me cut my eyes toward my friend. His fingers were tapping almost imperceptibly against the strap of his backpack full of explosives. A slight tilt of the head followed, a micro-gesture to anyone else, but to me, it was the signal that we were in sync.

"Rector, did you know that sleeping with your apprentices is both unethical and poor pedagogy?"

"I agree, Set," Kamma chimed in. "If the Emperor had written 'beautiful girls provided' into the contract, maybe the Empire wouldn't have seemed so bad. You just need a bit more self-confidence. Seducing young girls... how shameful."

"I get it now. You were drawn to the idea of starting your own harem. You defected to the Separatists just for that, right? Or did they promise you cookies, too?"

The words poured out of us in a flood. We couldn't be stopped. They say humor saves the mind from a horrific reality, helping you survive it. Apparently, the utter hopelessness of our situation had hit us hard.

But right now, it worked in our favor.

Moving slowly, we tried to subtly shrug off our explosive-laden backpacks. If even one charge got hit, our own munitions would tear us to pieces. I’m sure we could have kept the banter going for a while, but we were unceremoniously interrupted. Cold fury, nurtured over years, finally snapped.

"Kill them!"

Eight silent shadows attacked us simultaneously.

A crimson blade hissed a millimeter from my leg, but I was faster. I had to spin like a whirlwind. They were pressing me from four sides. There was no window to counterattack; even when someone made a mistake, I had to divert my attention to parry a strike from another direction.

But I was stronger! And it wasn't my first time fighting multiple opponents. Those grueling training sessions were bearing fruit. I just had to wait for the slightest hitch in their coordination... Now!

The Force yanked a dark figure toward me. A severed hand still clutching a lightsaber hit the floor. My fingers clamped around a slender throat, only to swing the body into the path of another enemy who couldn't stop his strike in time.

That made things easier. As far as I knew, no one survived a cauterized hole through the chest.

A blood-curdling scream erupted just meters away. Pain, disbelief, and rage caused one of the attackers to completely break formation. A backward flip saved me from being cleaved in two. A blade guided by the Force whistled beneath me in a frenzied spin.

Despite my speed, the Dark Side, fueled by his raw emotion, gave him unbridled power. Before my feet even touched the ground, several heavy stones shattered against my Force shield. An instant later, a lightsaber strike crashed against it.

With a jolt of horror, I realized I couldn't hold the barrier much longer. With a final flicker, the dome protecting me vanished. But that was part of the plan. I had to take the risk; there were no other options.

The enemy, caught off guard, hesitated for a split second. It was enough for me to step in and deliver one precise strike. But it didn't come free. A searing pain flared in my side, the blade had grazed me in a glancing blow.

The remaining pair was hesitant to close in. That was bad. The more time we wasted, the higher the chance the Director would intervene, or that Kamma would be overwhelmed, leaving me one-against-six.

Curse it! They were methodically pinning me from two sides, stripping away my room to maneuver. Behind me was a massive column; in front were two idiots with red blades and a distinct desire to see me dead.

I couldn't afford to be reckless anymore. The wound was making itself known.

Then the moment arrived. I had nowhere left to retreat. Behind me was only the massive stone pillar blocking my path. A hail of strikes descended upon me from both sides. I could feel the sheer hatred they were pouring into their blades for their fallen comrades. My wrist was growing numb, my movements more chaotic.

My precognition screamed of danger, but I simply couldn't react in time. A blow forced me to my knees. They didn't miss their opening. An unfamiliar feint sent my lightsaber flying from my cramped fingers.

"It’s over for you!"

They thought this strike would end my life. I couldn't dodge, but there was a way out.

A violent lurch to the side, and the vertically descending blade burned through my shoulder instead of my head. Then, my fingers locked onto the opponent's wrist with a grip of durasteel.

Continuing his momentum, I guided the blade myself. A portion of my shoulder was gone forever, but that didn't matter now. What mattered was the blade describing a wide arc and slicing through the second enemy's leg.

With a scream, he collapsed, clutching his stump. Their confusion gave me enough time to let the Force, obeying my will, close around their heads. A sickening crunch marked the end of two more lives. Their bodies slumped, staining the floor with blood.

A growl, distorted by the vocoder, filled the hall.

"Everyone, back!"

The two surviving adepts facing Kamma leaped away in synchronization. He looked much worse for wear than I did. Blood from a gash on his forehead coated the right side of his face, obscuring his vision. His left leg buckled with every step. One arm hung limp at his side, and a gaping black hole in his shoulder made it clear that arm wasn't moving again.

"Tifa, you wanted to have your fun with them. Which do you choose?"

"Him." Our former ally pointed a finger at Kamma. "I’ve wanted to do this since the Jedi Temple."

"Oh-la-la, gorgeous. I'm so glad you're ready to give me your attention. But understand... we're incompatible. I'm a Pantoran, and you're a kriffing psycho!"

"Take your revenge, girl. Shorten that long tongue of his. I will handle the other one."

Now we were truly finished. But that thought only flickered on the periphery of my mind. My friend’s sick humor seemed to be contagious. Or perhaps we just act the same in the face of death.

"Rector, could someone else kill me? Knowing your... tastes... regarding your apprentices, I’m actually scared."

"Puny brat. You and your Master are both equally insufferable. No matter. I will show your head to him personally before I kill him. Along with your blade."

A black blade ignited from his long sleeve.

"Kamma, looks like our Director isn't just into minors, he's a kleptomaniac too. How did you..."

I didn't get to finish. Black and crimson blades crashed down on me, forcing me into a frantic retreat.

For a time, I managed to hold my own against the Rector. I had to constantly break away just to catch my breath for a heartbeat. He seemed to be making it a point of pride to strike only with his hilts or his feet. He could have cut me a dozen times over, yet he was methodically turning my body into a bruised pulp. Even so, I couldn't land a thing against him. The sadist was clearly enjoying the process and his own superiority.

At one point, we froze in a precarious saber-lock. His blades were grinding down my block. Second by second, I was being forced lower and lower to the floor.

But that was the plan. A strike that had never failed me. My final trump card.

My blade hissed as I deactivated it. A sudden spin on my knees, lunging forward. He was open! I just had to ignite...

The sole of his metal boot slammed into my helmet. Unable to withstand the abuse, the helmet snapped from its mounts and tumbled away. Intense heat scorched my face. My eyes watered, unable to focus quickly in the shifting, searing light.

"Moron," his voice reached me through the ringing in my ears. "Did you think I hadn't studied you? Oh, no. An apprentice always betrays his teacher. One must be ready. How naïve to think I don’t know all your tricks. You are an open book to me. It was fun to play, but it’s time to end this."

The Force pulled me directly toward my enemy. I resisted for a few seconds, then was yanked off my feet. A brutal blow to the jaw sent me into oblivion for several moments.

When I opened my eyes, I knew it was finally over. The world was swimming, tilting away to the right. Through the roar in my ears, I heard words I couldn't quite process.

A heavy boot ground me into the floor. My head was pinned between two humming blades. One wrong move and I’d be my own executioner. The only positive thing was the floor; it was unexpectedly cold and pleasant while the factory reactor above blasted us with heat.

As if through deep water, someone’s words finally reached me.

"Master, we're killing them, right?! Let me go first. I want to watch one suffer while he watches the other die."

My gaze finally focused on a bright red line. Yeah, as expected, a lightsaber pressed to my friend's throat. Female fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling his head back, while the Twi'lek pinned him to the floor with a knee. It felt like she was an inch away from just tearing his head off.

"You want to cause him great suffering, my dear? Better I kill this pathetic creature who dares call himself an Inquisitor. Do you hear me, filth? You are as worthless as your Master. But I am sure you will be reunited in the Force very soon."

My eyes met Kamma’s golden ones. Surprisingly, there was no fear in them. His split lips were wordlessly trying to convey something. I needed time to decipher it. I needed time...

"Rector, let me serve you. After our duel, I realized how strong you are and how pathetic my Master is."

The masked bastard erupted in triumphant laughter. Just a little more, and I could understand what I was being told.

"Too late. Now you die knowing you chose the wrong side. And to think you..."

I wasn't listening anymore. The meaning of the message had finally hit me. Heh, you sick bastard. Behind all that "smart guy" seriousness hides a complete lunatic. Now I just had to find the strength for the trick.

"Rector... let me ask you a question. I hope you'll grant a dying man's final wish."

"Fine. Let's hear it."

"Do you know what art is?"

He seemed caught off guard by the question, and his pressure slackened slightly. Never in my life had a connection to the Force come as easily or as swiftly as it did now.

"IT'S WHEN THE EXPLOSIVES GO BOOM!"

Two backpacks, stuffed to the brim with the finest demolition charges, hurtled toward the reactor.