Allegory

Pain. Throbbing, shooting pain. With eyes pressed tightly shut, I coughed and sputtered as I propped myself up. How did I end up face-down in the mud? More importantly, how long was I knocked out?

I couldn’t even smell the rain pouring down around me because my olfactory sense was still stunned from the impact. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. I could only imagine I looked just like I felt.

Hoisting myself to one knee, I felt around in the mud for my comlink. I found it easily enough, but it was dead. I was on my own. Blinking away the pounding in my head, I called to my lightsaber through the Force. It materialized from a few meters away and sailed through the air, landing firmly in the grip of my left hand. I flicked it to life, and with a reassuring snap-hiss, the green-white blade ignited.

Good, I thought. At least I have a functional weapon. Now, to find out what happened to the rest of my group.

Standing, I extinguished the blade and looked myself over. I didn’t seem to have any serious injuries—certainly nothing that would impede my progress. My brown tunic was shredded along the arms and chest, and my right shoulder was lodging an official complaint with the rest of my body. My left shin had a sizable burn mark. Also, I was missing a boot for some reason. Sithspit, that was quite a crash.

No longer dizzy, I was able to survey the wreckage of the AAT. Half of the Shistavanan mercenary’s torso was sitting next to what appeared to be the remains of the blown personnel hatch. The tiny relay station was little more than a charred hole in the ground about ten meters from my position. I made a mental note to never underestimate a thermal detonator again—especially while riding the hull of the combat vehicle I intended to destroy with it.

Drenched, I clipped the lightsaber to my belt, found my missing boot, and broke into a dead run back towards the combat zone, which was probably at least three klicks west, over the hill.

Just another day in the Outer Rim.

No more than half a klick into my run, I stopped dead in my tracks. Chest heaving, I looked down at my hand to see that I had instinctively drawn my lightsaber again. I felt an overwhelming disturbance in the Force, as though a frozen vibro-blade had been thrust into my heart and the very ground beneath my feet had been stolen away.

Danger. Dread. Death.

I tried to shake the feeling away, to withdraw back into myself. But the inner peace wouldn’t come. Something was terribly, horribly wrong. It felt like the galaxy itself had been tipped on its side.

My head was spinning, and it wasn’t an aftereffect from the crash. It was the bewildering storm of emotions sent through the Force by Jedi on worlds everywhere. Something was happening. Jedi were dying. Lots of Jedi.

It was at that moment I saw a squad of my clone troopers emerging from over the hill, blasters raised. Raised, and pointed… at me.

Only then did it occur to me how providential that sidetrack had been. If I hadn’t been taken on a wild bantha chase with that AAT I would have been cut down by my own trooper cadre. But I didn’t know why my troops had suddenly turned on me. I didn’t know how many other clones had turned on their Jedi generals.

No time to make sense out of all this. Survival first. Questions later. I am a being of light. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no death, there is only the Force.

The Jedi precepts, however, melted away in futility. I was inexplicably overcome with a grief I didn’t even understand. The grief gave rise to a tide of rage. Destruction. Bloodlust.

Hatred.

My own Commander Tobin was leading a murderous run against me. And what of the other Jedi? What the blazes was happening in the galaxy?!

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I defeat the charging clone troopers. For all I cared, Tobin himself was the missing Sith. With a continuous hissing noise, the torrential rain flash-boiled against the blade of my lightsaber. Sprinting forward, I held my weapon up in a classic front guard, deflecting the onslaught of blaster bolts right back at the shooters.

By the time I reached the attackers, only Commander Tobin was left standing. I made quick work of him by executing a swift Vaapad maneuver, form seven. It was a technique Master Windu had perfected, and had admonished me more than once in the past for using it; it necessitated a close brush with the Dark Side just to be executed properly, and, given my predisposition towards darkness, it was not in my best interest to utilize the technique.

But this wasn’t the Jedi Temple training arena. This was the field of battle.

Or so I told myself. But I had taken an irrevocable step deeper into the shadows.

Standing over the bodies of the clone troopers, my weapon arm went slack. The thrum of the blade resonated with my heavy heart. Scowling, I lifted my gaze to the steep hill before me. On the other side, countless clone troopers were probably looking for me.

I knew I wasn’t likely to find any answers before reinforcements arrived, so I emptied my mind of the questions roaring inside me. And now, for the odious task of getting off-world without being seen…