Purge (Star Wars)

Epilogue: Fortress Inquisitorius

The hull of an Imperial transport rumbles and groans with the strain of re-entry as it traverses the upper atmosphere of the planet. For several minutes the view through the cockpit is completely obscured by wisps of clouds punctuated by the flaming red heat of re-entry. The pilot flips switches leveling the ship and shifting into atmospheric flight as it breaks through the clouds. Reaching to the horizon in almost every direction is the clear, unbroken blue of the ocean below or sky above.

Most days the planet rolls with mist and storms but on some days, like today, it is pristine and bright. In fact it would seem peaceful if not for the spire that rises from the sea, marring the view, like the head of a great oily black spear threatening all who approach. Below the surface, the base plunges to unfathomable depths, imperceptible from view from the air. Fear, hate, malice emanate from the base and permeate the planet, pulling from a wellspring of the force that lies deep below. For those sensitive to it, it can be overwhelming at times and it is precisely why this place was chosen for the spire.

Nur is proof that even something of beauty can also be the source of great evil.

As the ship approaches the fortress, the pilot exchanges the usual formalities with the flight tower, flips some switches and makes his way to the landing bay, a horizontal slit part way up the exposed structure. Because of the design, this is considered one of the more difficult landing pads of any Imperial ship, base, or structure. Only the most skilled pilots are allowed to land at the Fortress. The ship slows and hovers for a moment before gently, expertly touching down on the surface. The doors open and the passengers disembark and disappear into the crowd of Imperials hard at work like any other day at Fortress Inquisitorius.

Nur is one of the most secure planets in the Empire, the heart of the Inquisition, and those who serve there have grown overconfident and complacent in their own power and security. This is why it takes longer than one would expect for any of the Imperials, lost in their own tasks and thoughts, to notice a seated figure appear in the center of the landing bay.

The figure sits, cross legged in the center of the landing bay with their hands resting, palms up, on their knees. They are clad all in black with loose straight pants and a simple sleeveless top, their long black hair hanging loose down their back. A tattoo of interlocking, concentric rings reminiscent of orbiting planets adorns their left wrist and a thick white scar runs down their right forearm from their wrist to their elbow.

Suddenly an alarm sounds. "Intruder in the hanger bay! Clear the area! Security to the hangar bay immediately!" A voice announces over the comm system. Someone, somewhere had finally noticed the intruder. The officers, pilots, and workers flee the hangar bay with all haste just as a dozen Purge Troopers clad in black and red armor burst in with their weapons at the ready. Ilyana opens her eyes and locks her gaze on the Purge Trooper commander.

"Traitor!" The commander cries recognizing her face, the most wanted among the Purge Troopers. The calm serene look that had previously adorned her face is replaced with a mischievous smile.

"Fire!" yells the commander and all twelve Purge Troopers open fire on her with a blinding volley of red laser bolts. Unlike most stormtroopers the Purge Troopers do not miss, every shot is fired true but yet none hit their target. Instead crimson blaster bolts ricochet off the floor, slam into the transport shuttle breaking through the cockpit window, destroy security cameras and light fixtures, pummel crates filled supplies. Several even turn back on their masters throwing them off balance. One collides with a crate of explosives at the far end of the hangar setting off the volatile contents filling that corner of the hangar with an unexpected light show of sparks and flames and flames. The commander holds up a fist, signaling to his subordinates to cease firing.

The last of the blaster bolts echo through the hanger and Ilyana's smile breaks into a delighted grin at the commander's obvious confusion. She closes her eyes and the serene look returns to her face. She takes in a deep breath through her nose and releases it slowly through her mouth. One skill the Inquisitors could never learn was connecting to others and other creatures. The Jedi was the first to teach her that, then the Bendu, who was exceptional at it.

As she releases her breath, she reaches out to the waters. The waves crash through her mind and her thought dives beneath the surface to depths no light can reach. There she reaches out and touches a mind belonging to the deep. A mind of rhythms and waves, older than the fortress, older than the Empire, older than the Republic that came before. A mind angered by the presence of that dark tower.

The Purge Troopers circle her as she sits there, eyes closed and unmoving, but they stop short as a low roar fills the hangar. A sound reminiscent of an airlock opening aboard a ship and all the atmosphere sucked into the vacuum of space but this is not space. This is the sound of the waters pulling away from the fortress, the level dropping so low that many of the submerged tunnels become exposed. Moments later the sound changes tone and rises, louder and louder.

Several of the Purge Troopers forget themselves and remove their helmets in awe and horror at the tsunami rushing toward the Fortress. It slams into the spire with full force, sending a shockwave through the structure, throws people completely off their feet and rattles the Purge Troopers. A spray of water rushes through the opening of the hangar throwing crates and pallets across the room and drenching everyone present. The commander regains his footing and looks back at Ilyana to notice that she is still dry, her hair moving gently as if touched by only a light breeze, despite the rush of wind and water through the hangar.

The sea churns and swells around the base of the tower as if the water itself is alive and from it a giant tentacle reaches up, out of the waters. The curling mass of muscle is at least as long as the tower is tall and it crashes down with a deafening boom.

The tentacle slides past the open slit of the hangar bay and wraps itself around the tower, gripping tightly. The metal and stone of the wicked monolith groan under the strain as more tentacles shoot out of the water, one after the other, wrap themselves around the tower as well.

Several troopers give in to the fear and run from the hangar deeper into the Fortress, but there is nowhere to run. The tower shakes and the commander desperately rushes forward to grab at Ilyana but grasps nothing but air. He reaches out again but his hand passes through her.

The massive tentacles wrap tighter and tighter around the tower till all light is blocked out. The hangar is plunged into darkness. Beneath the sea, other tentacles curl round submerged passageways that reach to the outer sections and break them off from the main structure and the sea rushes in.

The stone creaks. The metal strains. Windows shatter.

Dim, red emergency lights flicker to life throughout the Fortress. The tower cries out under the strain as if itself is alive and cracks begin to appear, growing out from a single point of weakness and spider webbing across the walls in an instant. The metal peels back and folds in on itself. A large slab buckles and breaks free from the roof of the hanger and falls directly toward the commander. He dodges, just barely escaping it and scrambles back to his feet. He turns back to Ilyana but she has vanished. Was she ever actually there?

The pressure builds and moments later the Fortress gives way with a single concussive force and implodes under the creature's grip. The tower and the creature plunge into the sea, sending another tsunami roaring out in every direction.

Slowly the waters go quiet, the surface stills, and sunlight shimmers off of gentle waves and fragments of wreckage.

The creature is gone.

Ilyana opens her eyes and lets out a sigh of relief. She sits quietly, peaceful in the light humid breeze watching the sun rise over Bogano.