Thursday, 10 January 2013

Prison Break

Part 6 of my Star Wars short story/ fanfic. Enjoy

Prison Break

Prison had one advantage. Stillness. The apprentice had been there for eight months; eight months in a small black box. Grevious had thought this out well. Not only had he destroyed his beloved lightsaber in front of its owner but he had created this room specifically for psychological damage. A Force-sensitive, if powerful enough, could easily break out. The apprentice was not. That powerlessness was enough to drive anyone insane and the apprentice was no exception. He had broken down after a few weeks of holding out. He had screamed and attacked droids. In despair he had hit the walls until his hands bled and deformed; only to regenerate later due to his Force powers. Grevious had kept him weakened and malnourished reducing the apprentice to a thin, grizzled version of his former self. Sunken eyes, long unkempt air and a grizzled beard – the apprentice was sure he wouldn't be able to recognize himself.
But that despair had transformed into something . . . deeper. He had simply stopped fighting and screaming. He had ceased trying to escape. He felt something awaken in him, as if he had reached a state of transcendence. Tapping into it, as if kindling a small flame, he opened his mind allowing the Force to nourish him. He felt his strength return. Having no other route to take, he meditated deeply every day, spending nearly all of his waking hours communicating with the universal power. He had opened himself up completely to the Force, letting it direct is every move, his every thought. He knew that the Force would eventually tell him exactly when and where to act. He allowed the Force to help him. And the Force responded.

On the ninth month, a resonance went off inside the apprentice. Enlightened, he knew exactly how to get out of this jail. The Force told him that now was the time to escape. The apprentice felt excited: he had grown powerful in the Force during his months of meditation and, just like he used to when he’s been instructed in something new, he had looked forward to trying out the extent of his newly acquired skills. His mind still open to the influence of the Force, he sat down and patiently waited for the scheduled droids to come by.
“I just wanna see ‘im. He’s been starving for nearly a year. C’mon you tinker head, what’s he gonna do? I wanna see this so-called Sith.” The voice belonged to human. The apprentice could feel his life force behind the thick doors. He could feel the electrical pulse of the two droids behind the human.
“Hey, Sith. Don’t hurt me, al’right?” taunted the guard. He let out a snort of laughter and the apprentice could hear him fumble with his belt, trying to unclip the stun baton.

The apprentice felt the Force giving him a countdown, slowly feeling the ripples of power as if he were intricate with universe. Three, Two, One. He focused on the guard first. The human was soon lifted off the ground, a large pressure around his neck. Half a second later he fell on the ground, his neck crushed beyond recognition in a bloody mess and his face etched with a horrified expression. The door opened giving the apprentice a full view of two commando droids wielding large stun batons. With a twitch of his fingers, both droids were pulled towards him. With agility, far beyond the natural, the apprentice from his position, grabbed both droids and unleashed a barrage of lightning through them. Bright red arcs of electricity, a colour unlike the one which he used before his incarceration, arced around the droids. Bolts shot outside of the prison cell, illuminating the entire floor. Tossing the droids aside, he looked at the camera observing him.
“My name is not ‘Sith’ or ‘assassin’.” His voice rang with power. “I was the Sith apprentice of Darth Mortris. But that is no more. I am an agent of the Force, and the Force gave me a name. From this day forth I shall be known as Darth Wraith.” He channelled lightning throughout his entire body. Sparks erupted from the walls and electronic devices exploded into smoking scraps of metal. The acrid smell of burnt silicone filled the building.
“I’m waiting for you General,” he said menacingly. Darth Wraith stood still inside his cell, waiting for his jailer.

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