The Birth of Rebellion

Chapter VI - The Titan

The monolithic hull of the Venator Star Destroyer, the Titan, loomed overhead, a graveyard for countless souls. In its gaping maw, the Sarlacc pit writhed, its guttural screeches echoing through the metallic canyon. Nexus, his voice tight with concern, looked to Xon. "Master, are we certain about this?"

Xon, his jaw set in grim determination, hefted the cryo gun. A metallic click echoed as he disengaged the safety. "The Empire can't have this data. If retrieval is impossible, then it must be eradicated."

With a shared glance, they launched into a desperate sprint. Grappling hooks hissed as they fired, embedding themselves in the exposed ribs of the decaying Venator. They arced through the air, the sheer drop to the Sarlacc's maw a constant, chilling reminder of their precarious situation.

Landing with a clang on a metallic platform, they scrambled towards the nearest data port. But their reprieve was short-lived. A viper droid, its mechanical whir a harbinger of doom, sliced through the air, its single red eye locking onto them. Exposed and with nowhere to run, they froze, a statue of defiance in the face of their mechanical nemesis. The droid hovered, its antenna rising like a silent question. A tense silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic hum of its internal systems. Then, with a blip, it transmitted its data.

"Move!" Xon roared, a blast from his cryo rifle erupting as the probe droid shrieked, its metallic body tumbling towards the Sarlacc pit. Warning lights strobed on distant outposts, an ominous confirmation of their compromised position. "Nexus, get that door open, fast! We're on borrowed time."

Nexus didn't hesitate, his processors overclocked as he hacked the blast door. The metallic panel hissed open, revealing a spartan room - a bed, a desk, a chair, and a small shelf. On the shelf, a simple breathing mask lay nestled amongst forgotten trinkets. A tremor ran through Xon as his gaze fixated on it. It couldn't be...

"Master, what is it?" Nexus inquired, his voice devoid of human inflection but laced with a hint of concern. Xon knelt before the closed door adjacent to the shelf. "Krieger?" he breathed, the name heavy with unspoken emotions.

He rose, his voice raw. "Nexus, open this." The droid complied, his metallic fingers interfacing with the data port. Inside, the room was bare except for a single container. Disappointment flickered across Xon's face, replaced by a steely resolve. This wasn't just any Jedi's quarters. This was personal.

"Master, time is of the essence," Nexus pressed, his processor analysing their predicament. "What are we looking for?"

Xon ignored him for a moment, his eyes lingering on the dusty mask. "Tell me, Nexus," he said, his voice low, "what do you know about Jedi Knight Krieger?"

The droid hummed, accessing Imperial records. "Jedi Knight Krieger," a holographic figure materialised before them, a perfect likeness of the Jedi. "General in the Clone Wars, gravely wounded during the Battle of Makeb. Life-sustaining breathing apparatus designed by..." Nexus' voice hitched, a flicker of surprise crossing his digital face. "Access denied." The hologram flickered and dissolved.

"Restricted files," Nexus concluded, reforming his humanoid shape. A disquieting silence hung in the air. Xon remained seated in the dusty chair, his gaze fixed on the breathing mask. His past, a tightly guarded secret, was clawing its way to the surface.

The tremors escalated, a metallic shudder travelling up from the depths of the Venator. A guttural growl, a sound that vibrated in their bones, echoed from below – the Sarlacc was not amused by their extended stay. Xon and Nexus pressed on, the flickering emergency lights casting grotesque shadows on the fractured walls. Every creak, every groan of the decaying ship amplified the gnawing tension.

"My lab should be through here," Xon rasped, his voice barely audible over the din. He pointed towards a dimly lit corridor, the darkness beyond the flickering light an unsettling unknown. They rounded the corner cautiously, only to be met with another gaping chasm in the hull. Readied grappling hooks hung limply at their sides as the urgency of their situation pressed down on them.

"Small energy signature detected," Nexus murmured, his synthetic voice devoid of emotion but laced with a note of caution. Both Xon and Nexus retreated back behind the corner, their senses on high alert. The Sarlacc's roar continued, a constant reminder of their precarious perch. But amidst the cacophony, another sound pierced the air – a faint whoosh, barely audible over the beast's tantrum.

A figure materialised on the other side of the chasm, silhouetted against the flickering light from beyond. A jetpack sputtered on their back, the plume of flame momentarily illuminating a helmet adorned with a distinctive crest. The Mandalorian, their movements purposeful, scanned the area before heading decisively towards the direction of Xon's lab.