The FC-20 speeder bike raced through the Naboo countryside against the backdrop of a rising sun. A light fog covered the rolling hills as the morning dew rose slowly from the dense green grass. He sped onward, feeling the warmth on the nape of his neck.
Memories of this planet plagued his thoughts. Some good, some bad, some long stored away in a part of his mind that only now, in this moment, in this place, could be recalled. Another life. A life that would never be again.
When he reached the edge of the forest, he swerved the bike to the right and came to an abrupt stop. The rest of the way would be on foot. He took his small pack and proceeded into the trees and up the mountain, creating his own path.
A sizzle, a harsh scream, the stench of burning flesh filled the air in the mountain cabin. The unmistakeable sounds and smells of torture. The old man's body tensed in shock as the searing red blade sat on his shoulder, sinking into the skin and muscle, then went limp when it was retracted. The bindings around his wrists connected to a beam in the ceiling kept him from falling to the ground.
"You're wasting your time," he muttered with heavy breath. "I'm not going to tell you anything."
The figure opposite to him was dressed in all black, his face completely hidden. "You cannot hold out forever, Jedi. You will break." The voice was almost metallic behind the mask. He seemed to be enjoying working on the old man.
"He won't break." The Sith Assassin turned, startled by the stranger at the door. He regained his composure, but not his thoughts. His confusion and uneasiness rippled through the room.
"This is my assignment," he sneered back, pointing toward the newcomer with the tip of his lightsaber. "Why are you here?“
The prisoner let out a light laugh before coughing up blood. "He thinks you're an Inquisitor."
The assassin looked back and forth between the men with increased anxiousness. "What is he talking about? Who sent you?"
"Cut him down," the figure in the doorway replied.
"Who are you?" The dumbfounded Sith finally asked the right question. "Answer me!"
The old man let out another short chuckle, amused by the exchange. The assassin turned to him in anger and shoved the red blade of his lightsaber toward his neck, holding it just inches away from his juggular.
"Cut him down,” he repeated.
In a violent but predictable move, the masked killer swiftly moved through the room, spinning his blade in a horizontal slash toward the intruder. But the assassin was outmatched. His opponent leaned back, watching the lightsaber pass just in front of his face. In the same motion, he drew his own lightsaber, striking downward as the blue blade snap-hissed to life. It landed vertically on the Sith's arm, slicing it off at the elbow, causing his weapon to clamor to the floor.
The Sith yelled in pain, but it was short lived. The first blow was followed by a second, a horizontal sweep above the shoulders. His body fell to the ground with a thud, and his head rolled off upon impact.
As quickly as he had drawn his weapon, he cut the switch and replaced it on his belt. He then withdrew a much smaller survival knife and stalked across the room toward the hanging prisoner. Dispensing with any gentleness, he grabbed his wrists and sawed through the binds, letting the old man fall to his hands and knees on the ground. He backed up and put the knife away.
"Are you here to save me or kill me?" the man asked weakly, trying to catch his breath.
"Both. Neither. Does it matter?"
"Will you help me up at least?" The larger man ignored the request and walked a few steps away, looking around the room as he moved. Seeing he would get no help, the old man crawled to a nearby chair and pulled himself into it. "But you're right, it doesn't matter. I'm dying either way."
The two men looked at each other, staring in silence for several moments. "I recognize your presence, Padd. But more importantly, I recognize you. How is that?"
"You're old," Padd responded curtly.
"And you should be, too. Yet . . . I feel the soul of an old man, but I see the same face of the young man I knew all those years ago." He coughed up more blood and spat it onto the floor. "I heard rumors you were working for the Sith at the battle on Coruscant. I did not believe it. I've heard a lot of rumors over the years."
"I was on Coruscant," he answered. He did not dignify he second part of that accusation with a response. The decapitated Inquisitor laying just feet away said enough.
"I sense the anger in you, Padd. You cannot hide that from your friends."
"We are not friends," Padd interjected. "You, your Council . . . The hubris, the lies, the deception . . ." He clinched his fist in anger, unconsciously sending several books flying from the shelf against the wall.
"The Sith deal in lies and deception. Not the Jedi. You've been led astray, Padd. Let me help you."
"No, Hifax. The Jedi Order, the Sith, it's just two sides of the same coin. You both crave power, control. You both want people to bow to you, to fear you. The Sith do it openly. The Jedi hide their intentions behind the guise of protection."
The aging Jedi Master stared at him, his mind split between the present and the past. “I thought you were dead.“
”You needed me to be dead.“
”No! We never wanted that — I never wanted that. But the artifact, that thing . . . “
"Do you have it?" Padd asked as the elder Jedi finally got to the point.
"No," Hifax answered truthfully.
"Do you know where it is?"
"It's safe." A small smile crept across his face as he leaned back in his chair. "Yes, it's safe."
"I'm no fool like this Sithspit they sent to torture you. You see me, Hifax, you know why I need it!"
"You will find another way, Padd. That isn’t it."
He knew it was no use. Hifax would die a thousand deaths before revealing the secret. And Padd felt the life leaving his body with each breath. "Are they coming?" he finally asked.
"They were alerted before the assassin made it through the door."
Padd turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway and looked back toward the once great Jedi Master. Hifax's eyes closed and his breath slowed, then he slowly disappeared into the ether, the torn and weathered robes remaining as the only evidence his physical presence had been there. Padd then stepped outside to see the sun had risen above the treeline. The birds chirped, the forest alive with energy. He walked twenty meters or so to a large rock and climbed atop, just as he had done so many years ago, in another life.
Alone he waited, meditating.
When they came, he would be ready.
Memories of this planet plagued his thoughts. Some good, some bad, some long stored away in a part of his mind that only now, in this moment, in this place, could be recalled. Another life. A life that would never be again.
When he reached the edge of the forest, he swerved the bike to the right and came to an abrupt stop. The rest of the way would be on foot. He took his small pack and proceeded into the trees and up the mountain, creating his own path.
*****
A sizzle, a harsh scream, the stench of burning flesh filled the air in the mountain cabin. The unmistakeable sounds and smells of torture. The old man's body tensed in shock as the searing red blade sat on his shoulder, sinking into the skin and muscle, then went limp when it was retracted. The bindings around his wrists connected to a beam in the ceiling kept him from falling to the ground.
"You're wasting your time," he muttered with heavy breath. "I'm not going to tell you anything."
The figure opposite to him was dressed in all black, his face completely hidden. "You cannot hold out forever, Jedi. You will break." The voice was almost metallic behind the mask. He seemed to be enjoying working on the old man.
"He won't break." The Sith Assassin turned, startled by the stranger at the door. He regained his composure, but not his thoughts. His confusion and uneasiness rippled through the room.
"This is my assignment," he sneered back, pointing toward the newcomer with the tip of his lightsaber. "Why are you here?“
The prisoner let out a light laugh before coughing up blood. "He thinks you're an Inquisitor."
The assassin looked back and forth between the men with increased anxiousness. "What is he talking about? Who sent you?"
"Cut him down," the figure in the doorway replied.
"Who are you?" The dumbfounded Sith finally asked the right question. "Answer me!"
The old man let out another short chuckle, amused by the exchange. The assassin turned to him in anger and shoved the red blade of his lightsaber toward his neck, holding it just inches away from his juggular.
"Cut him down,” he repeated.
In a violent but predictable move, the masked killer swiftly moved through the room, spinning his blade in a horizontal slash toward the intruder. But the assassin was outmatched. His opponent leaned back, watching the lightsaber pass just in front of his face. In the same motion, he drew his own lightsaber, striking downward as the blue blade snap-hissed to life. It landed vertically on the Sith's arm, slicing it off at the elbow, causing his weapon to clamor to the floor.
The Sith yelled in pain, but it was short lived. The first blow was followed by a second, a horizontal sweep above the shoulders. His body fell to the ground with a thud, and his head rolled off upon impact.
As quickly as he had drawn his weapon, he cut the switch and replaced it on his belt. He then withdrew a much smaller survival knife and stalked across the room toward the hanging prisoner. Dispensing with any gentleness, he grabbed his wrists and sawed through the binds, letting the old man fall to his hands and knees on the ground. He backed up and put the knife away.
"Are you here to save me or kill me?" the man asked weakly, trying to catch his breath.
"Both. Neither. Does it matter?"
"Will you help me up at least?" The larger man ignored the request and walked a few steps away, looking around the room as he moved. Seeing he would get no help, the old man crawled to a nearby chair and pulled himself into it. "But you're right, it doesn't matter. I'm dying either way."
The two men looked at each other, staring in silence for several moments. "I recognize your presence, Padd. But more importantly, I recognize you. How is that?"
"You're old," Padd responded curtly.
"And you should be, too. Yet . . . I feel the soul of an old man, but I see the same face of the young man I knew all those years ago." He coughed up more blood and spat it onto the floor. "I heard rumors you were working for the Sith at the battle on Coruscant. I did not believe it. I've heard a lot of rumors over the years."
"I was on Coruscant," he answered. He did not dignify he second part of that accusation with a response. The decapitated Inquisitor laying just feet away said enough.
"I sense the anger in you, Padd. You cannot hide that from your friends."
"We are not friends," Padd interjected. "You, your Council . . . The hubris, the lies, the deception . . ." He clinched his fist in anger, unconsciously sending several books flying from the shelf against the wall.
"The Sith deal in lies and deception. Not the Jedi. You've been led astray, Padd. Let me help you."
"No, Hifax. The Jedi Order, the Sith, it's just two sides of the same coin. You both crave power, control. You both want people to bow to you, to fear you. The Sith do it openly. The Jedi hide their intentions behind the guise of protection."
The aging Jedi Master stared at him, his mind split between the present and the past. “I thought you were dead.“
”You needed me to be dead.“
”No! We never wanted that — I never wanted that. But the artifact, that thing . . . “
"Do you have it?" Padd asked as the elder Jedi finally got to the point.
"No," Hifax answered truthfully.
"Do you know where it is?"
"It's safe." A small smile crept across his face as he leaned back in his chair. "Yes, it's safe."
"I'm no fool like this Sithspit they sent to torture you. You see me, Hifax, you know why I need it!"
"You will find another way, Padd. That isn’t it."
He knew it was no use. Hifax would die a thousand deaths before revealing the secret. And Padd felt the life leaving his body with each breath. "Are they coming?" he finally asked.
"They were alerted before the assassin made it through the door."
Padd turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway and looked back toward the once great Jedi Master. Hifax's eyes closed and his breath slowed, then he slowly disappeared into the ether, the torn and weathered robes remaining as the only evidence his physical presence had been there. Padd then stepped outside to see the sun had risen above the treeline. The birds chirped, the forest alive with energy. He walked twenty meters or so to a large rock and climbed atop, just as he had done so many years ago, in another life.
Alone he waited, meditating.
When they came, he would be ready.
