.
Where had it all gone wrong?
It was designed to be perfect. Flawless.
Anders had run the scenario through his conscious mind dozens of times to the point where even his subconscious relaid the worst-case scenarios in his dreams. He had contingencies in place. They had failed.
Every. Single. One.
He could practically feel the condescending grin on Titius’ face. TuQ, on the other hand, at least had the good graces to maintain his professionalism as the trio descended the turbolift into the core of Tantiss. The Plagueis Proconsul had given Titius a pointed look, making the Human raise his hands in mock defense.
“They are Clones,” Anders announced like he was answering a unasked question. “A contingency plan concocted during my tenure as the Taldryan Republic’s Vice-Chancellor. However, it appears that has been a miscalculation in their genetic code. They were meant to be obedient. Subservient. That is no longer the case. The facility is to be destroyed.”
Of course, how better to accomplish that than with two members of Clan Plagueis? A Clan so infamously associated with the CIS that it would be a miracle of the Force if they were unaware if how to combat Clones.
Still, where had Anders gone wrong?
The turbolift doors opened, and, as if to prove Anders’ point, several turrets in the ceiling turned to face them, whirring as troops at the other end of the hall pointed blaster rifles at them, screaming profanities all the while.
Smoke covered the scene rapidly, sprung from two canisters spinning their way merrily down the hall. Titius was already down on a knee, blaster bolts flying wild. “Anders, your reception parties suuuuuck.” The point was punctuated by intense coughing from the smoke. “I thought you were better than this. When TuQ sprung me, he told me I would get a red carpet.”
“I may have been a touch hyperbolic,” the Proconsul replied as he fired off a few quick shots at the turrets attempting to rain down fire from above. “I don’t see any carpet, but at this point would you settle for some red duracrete?”
While the blaster fire from the troops at the other end of the hall slowed down as smoke filled the hall further, crimson bolts continued to streak towards them from above. As the trio sat hunkered in the turbolift, TuQ’s eyes darted back and forth in search of an access point. Just outside the doors he found exactly what he was looking for, a small round plug in the wall that should give him access to the bases’ systems. Well, at least for this section.
“Don’t let me get shot,” he muttered both to himself and his compatriots as he pulled a computer spike from his pocket. Dignity out the window, laid on ground, stomach pressed as tight to the floors as possible and began crawling forward, towards his target.
“No guarantees.” Titius let loose another volley of grenades, emerald smoke thickening the already filled hall. “You both have respirators right? Probably should have checked that first…”
The mercenary advanced down the hall, forcing the incoming fire away from TuQ.
Anders happened to think he hosted rather magnificent parties, thank you very much. Though, he himself had to admit this was not what either of his cohorts had in mind. The sarcasm was not lost on him.
No, he did not have a respirator. He had something far, far better. The Force. Through the thickening smoke, the distinct snap-hiss of his lightsaber deflected each blaster bolt that came toward them. Crimson eyes glared, his anger festering into the tendrils of lightning that streaked forth from his fingertips.
Such a shame. Anders lamented the potential this facility had.
Between himself and Titius, they were able to hold the line until the turrets in the ceiling turned around, aimed, and fired upon the Clones; Anders’ creations.
“Excellent work,” Anders deactivated his lightsaber and attached it to his hip.
He strolled forward into the next room after providing the adequate access codes, hand-print, and eye scan.
One could never be too careful.
There, in that large, oval room, tanks upon tanks littered the walkways, each with bodies in various stages of development. At the far end of the room was a terminal.
TuQ fell in behind Anders as he led the way into the laboratory. A mixture of feelings passed through him as he took in the….interesting sight. It was almost like walking into a hall of mirrors where each one were shaped just different enough to warp the image, expect the only reflection here was that of Anders.
He was filled with a morbid fascination as he approached the glass side of one of the tanks, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the floating body before him. This version of Anders appeared to have body parts that were growing at different rates, the body that of a grown man, its arms the size of a teen’s and a head the size of an infant’s.
“What the….” he whispered. He leaned so close to the glass that his forehead was almost resting on it, his hands pressed against the glass as if to stop him from falling through.
“I am not one for clone experimentation but something tells me that one is not viable, m'lord.” Titius showed a noticeable disinterest in the specimens. His helmet tilted to a haughty expression as he gazed around. “Do you have a kill sequence for these or a genetic key?” The question carried a lilt of excitement. “I can have a biovorous plague typed within a day…flood the ventilation system then rinse the guts out.” Titius smacked his palms in finality at the thought. “You’re not hoping for a salvage run are you, Anders? TuQ asked me to bring enough munitions to level a capital ship so let us hear a clear statement or I make my own plans”
“A day will take too long,” Anders shook his head. A real shame indeed. “They need to be eradicated at the most immediate convenience.”
Anders began typing furiously upon his terminal, brinhing up large letters upon the screen.
TuQ made his way over to the terminal and placed his hand on Anders’ shoulder.
“Sorry you gotta do this buddy.” He glanced around the room at the facsimiles of Anders. “But this place is giving me the creeps, so if we can accelerate the accelerants….” He glanced over at Titius. “That would be great.”
Anders placed his hand hesitantly on the lever in at the side of the terminal.
“There are two extra levers in the adjacent room. It is a failsafe placed to avoid accidental activation. We will need to pull them at the same time…”
Titius nods gravely and moves as directed. “Say when,” came the warbled response through comms.
TuQ nodded to Anders and made his way into the next room, glancing back warily at the Chiss.
“You give the signal Anders!” He shouted back from his position next to the secondary terminal.
Anders gave a curt nod, then turned awaited Titius’ confirmation.
The Human gave a low grumble as he followed TuQ into the adjacent room. It was almost regrettable, there was so much potential in that room about to be wasted.
“Three,” Anders shouted back to TuQ. “Two, one!”
All three pulled their levers at the same time. Immediately, the door to the room with TuQ and Titius inside sealed shut with several inches of thick durasteel.
Anders closed his eyes, lamenting the loss that Clan Plagueis would suffer. Poor Selikah would have to search for another Proconsul. A pity.
Their sacrifice would pay for Anders’ experiments. These clones were horrid, uncoordinated, creatures with lack of forethought. They were imperfect, and as their creator, their God, they deserved to be wiped from the universe.
The Chiss tapped the button for the intercom.
“Gentlemen, I do apologise for the deception. I hope you understand that I cannot allow knowledge of what has occured here to spread outside these walls. This facility will be destroyed with you. I will ensure the tale of your heroism reaches your loved ones. I thank you for your service. It has been an honour.”
With that, Anders released the button, made his way back to the turbolift as electronics began to spark and hiss. Fires erupted from vats and machines that were previously stable. The air began tainted with sudden death.
It wasn’t long before Anders was in their shuttle, making his way into the atmosphere. All he could do was await news of the facilities destruction.
The shuttle comms lit up unbidden. “Anders. You blue faced idiot. I may not be a Quaestor any longer but TuQ is still the Dread Lord’s Wrath. When we catch you, you’re going to wish you died with these clones.” The comms promptly blew out in a shower of sparks as Titius signed off.
Pointing overhead, Titius shot a glance at TuQ. “Oh Wrath, your jetpack still has fuel right? What say we make a skylight there”
Titius starts juggling denton explosives spheres, a maniacal smile emenating through the helmet.
TuQ clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to keep his frustration in check. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted Anders. Rumours circulated the Brotherhood on his ambition, his cunning and his single mindedness. Of course he didn’t want proof of his experiments. And of course he didn’t want word to get out that he had come crawling to Plagueis, begging for help.
But this is what TuQ deserves for attempting to maintain “diplomatic relations”. Well, it didn’t matter what Anders wanted, TuQ wasn’t just about to let a member of his clan die down here. He quickly checked the fuel levels on his jetpack. Full. Perfect. He nodded to Titius.
“When I said enough explosives to level a mountain, I didn’t realize I was being literal. I’m ready when you are.”
Titius sounded truly wounded at the comment. “My lord Wrath, I was apprentice to a sadistic Sith with a penchant for surviving. Leveling the mountain is underestimation at best.” A few practiced throws and Titius extended a hand. “Fly me to the moon, will y..” The rest of the statement was lost in the ear shattering blast of concrete bending to the will of a madman.
TuQ grabbed Titius under his arms and fired the thrusters in his jetpack, he didn’t want to see the human’s handy work from this particular angle. As they rocketed towards the ever expanding mixture of smoke, fire and duracrete it reminded him of an old childhood holo he once watched of a spaceman and a cowboy.
“Go beyond infinity!” he whispered to himself, though he wasn’t quite sure that was the correct phrase.
The side of the hill burst outward in a cloud of dirt and flames, rocketing out of the centre of the plum was the pair of Plagueians. Easing back on the jet pack’s throttle, the whipping wind turned to a cool breeze as they glided towards the ground. The jet pack coughed and sputtered just feet from the ground, TuQ released Titius from his grip and rolled through a summersault as he hit the ground himself. He stood and brushed the dirt from his jacket.
“I know what you’re going to say, but I didn’t crash, I fell with style.” The Proconsul looked at Titius and then around at their surroundings. “We may need to call for a ride, I don’t really feel like trying to hitch a ride with Anders right now.”