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Deus Ex Machina
General Grevious saw the
destruction his prisoner had wrought and angrily slammed his fist on the
control panel.
“Get every assault druid and
Magnaguard up there,” he yelled at the nearest machine. “It’s high time I end
his pathetic existence.” He removed his cloak and set four lightsabers on a
magnetic clip around his hip. He had no
time for taunting and tactic. The cyborg was set to unleash his weapons on the
Sith and strike to kill. His torture, he realized, had backfired, creating a
being more powerful than the one he had imprisoned nine months ago. The General
could not afford to let the Sith escape. He had to rectify his mistake.
Wraith re0entered his cell and
waited, listening with the Force. In the past, his training would have told him
to attack the General exploiting the element of surprise and fear of the
unknown. He could have done that now, in methods he could only dream of
previously. But the Force had shown him a different destiny. Grevious would die
at the hands of another. His destiny was not intertwined with the cyborg’s.
Wraith had a different purpose in the downfall of his jailer: he would
humiliate him, causing him to lose face and make further mistakes. This would
render him in the state in which he would be when he would face his killer. The
Force had done more: it had shown him how the Clone Wars would end. Or rather
the different possibilities and outcomes. He saw a future where the Jedi
emerged victorious, but be so weak what it would no longer uphold its
philosophies and practices but sell out to the highest bidder. He saw a future
where the Sith ruled; some areas of the universe eradicated and sundered into
black holes. Others were colonized under a military rule. Death and destruction
threatened the very creation of life. Whatever future he saw, they all ended
the same: one side eradicating the other, only to later on eradicate itself. He
sought one future; one where he saw suffering and pain, followed by peace and
prosperity. To do that he had to follow a unique path and ironically, or
perhaps it was destiny, his apprenticeship with Darth Mortris had given him the
option to do so.
Grevious and his troops saw the
Sith leaning against the wall of his cell, clearly awaiting for their arrival.
“Shoot to kill,” ordered the
General as he spit his arms into two and ignited a lightsaber in each. Laser
shot at Wraith but not hit him. A Force barrier dissipated each shot before it
could hit his person. Grevious roared in anger and took a step forward before
Wraith pushed with the Force and flung the cyborg with his entire regimen
backwards and out of the cell.
“What’s wrong General? Can’t your droids
aim properly?” he taunted. Grevious lunged at him smashing his weapons against
the Force Barrier. Wraith held fast and no matter the strength of the cyborgs
blows, nothing could penetrate that barrier. Wraith smiled mischievously and
spun to face the wall. He placed both hands on it and gave the General as
small, taunting, wave.
During his months of meditation,
the Force had enlightened him to various aspects of science and power. He had
discovered that by simply looking at things with a different perspective, he
had the potential to do the impossible. His new powers, far beyond what he had
during his apprenticeship, were proof of that. He had been reborn as a man, as
a being of the Force and he was eager to try out his new powers.
The bonds which held his molecular
structure together loosened and slipped between the atoms of the durasteel
wall. The Force Barrier slowly dissipated, but he did not require it any more.
Grevious’s plasma swords passed through him, his body having become intangible.
“What witchcraft is this, Sith?”
cried Grevious as he watched, stunned. Wraith took as step and his body began
going through the wall.
“See you on the other side
General,” he said before completely disappearing.
Wraith’s cell was on the fourth
floor of a straight building. When he phased through the wall, all that awaited
him was a free fall to his death. The Sith solidified himself again and used
the Force to slowly descend. After a few uncertain seconds, his bare feet
gently touched solid ground again. The sun was setting and Wraith stood rooted
on the spot, catching his breath, and allowing his face to soak up the warmth.
For the first time in months he could truly feast his eyes upon the yellow and
purple sky and the freedom that lay ahead.
“What are your orders General?”
said the leading battle droid. General Grevious snapped himself back to reality
and bullied his brain into action.
“Alert the ground battalion. Lock
down the hangers and every access point to the facility. I want a complete
lockdown of anything that can fly. Do not let him off this planet!”
Wraith was still enjoying the
sunset when the first squad of droids surrounded him.
“Halt,” screeched one of them.
Wraith raised his hands nonchalantly, before dropping them back down. More
droids kept joining the fray. Wraith did not need to hear his heavy footsteps
to know that the General was approaching quickly. He could feel his turmoil
from a galaxy away: his pain, anger and suffering – it was as if the cyborg was
built on all things negative. Wraith could almost taste the pain that shaped
the Kaleesh general into the mechanical monstrosity approaching him. He
couldn’t help but smile. Wraith was in total serenity with the Force and,
indirectly, he had the General to thank. He no longer felt anger or fear – he
didn’t need them to be powerful, contrary to is Sith instruction.
“Stupid droids,” yelled Grevious.
“Shoot him. Kill him.” The droids aimed their blasters as Wraith.
Only, Wraith has disappeared.
Wraith stumbled and fell face
forward.
“He’s on the roof General,” he
heard from behind him. A lone droid aimed a sniper blaster at the Sith and
Wraith had barely scrambled behind a vent for safety. He felt weak, spent and
could not stop wheezing. It was foolish to bend space over such a distance. His
teleportation had left his spent, and now a droid had him at its mercy. All he
could manage was a small blast of Force, which smashed against the droid’s knee
joint. The robot wobbled uncertainly and then simply fell over the roof. Still
not believing his luck, Wraith mustered the energy to stand up.
Just one more, he thought. All he
needed was one final push, one final burst of power. He could see the horizon
from here: there lay freedom and he had come too far, endured too much, just to
stop now. He felt his energy return and knew that he would be free today. With
renewed vigor, he peered over the edge and waved at the General below.
“So long General. Thank you for
your hospitality,” he yelled, smiling as he saw the cyborg take his anger out
on his robotic subordinates.
“Get him,” he heard him yell.
Wraith walked to the other side of the building before spinning and breaking
into a run. Putting all his faith, feelings and his very life into the hands of
the Force, Wraith leapt off the edge of the roof and soared a good ten feet
into the air.
“Shoot him when he lands,” ordered
Grevious. But Wraith kept on soaring, until he was flying forward, away from
the prison which held him for nearly a year.
“Um, Sir? He’s not landing,” said a
droid. Grevious growled and swung his hand at the droids. Its head flew into
the air and tumbled uselessly.
“I can see that!” he screamed. “Get
him.” But it was too late and all the cyborg could do was watch as is former
prisoner flew off into the horizon.
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