PathFinder: Science Fiction Short Stories

Arty and the Force: The Battle of Camlann

"Treacherous, the force may be."

Luke turned a side-glance to the little green being seated on a boulder in front of him.

"Sweet and enticing, The Dark Side ever is. Showing two faces, always it had."

This incessant repetition of the same words, the same ideas, was starting to bore the young man.

"Luring young Padawans, its objective is."

Yoda was obviously warming to his subject. Was he trying to get Luke annoyed? Was he trying to get a reaction from him?

"Learning from this story, I hope you will."

The young man tried not to show his impatience. Would this leitmotiv ever stop?

"The strength of the force, the story of Arty will tell. Carefully, young Padawan, to it, listen..."

Finally, this was going somewhere, Luke thought...

*~*

A long time ago, on a small planet far, far away...

The Battle of Camlann.

"Arty has returned to defend his kingdom, to reclaim his throne, but the enemy proves to be hard to fight.

The Force is weakening, and the Dark Side is becoming stronger.

Arty is about to fight his last battle..."

Today would be his last day on this planet, he was sure of it. The battle was raging; many fine men were dying on each side. The Force was leaving him.

His nemesis was standing high and straight on the ramparts surrounding the place he used to call home until an error in judgment sent him away long enough for Morty to take over en force.

Arty looked at the man, wondering how the situation ended up this way.

He had had a somehow long and fruitful life, happy youthful days, many truthful friends, a lovely wife, and a worthy enemy. Said enemy he used to call family and friend.

The Force is weak, Arty thought. The Dark Side is winning. What did I do wrong?

Morty, tall and young, was climbing down the walls to meet the man who taught him everything he knew. As he looked towards his former king, his former mentor, his former friend and family, he thought how much that man had changed his life. On some days, he thanked Arty to have introduced him to the Force. On some other, he hated him for not having protected him from the traps of the other side. These days, though, he felt almost nothing, numbed, as he was, the cost of joining the Dark Side of the Force.

On the plain, surrounded by fighting knights, Arty was waiting for Morty. The later was walking toward him, slowly, with assurance in his skills the former was not able to feel anymore. All Arty saw, at this moment, was the Grim Reaper walking to him, ready to end his life. The king, however, and despite his certitude of near end, was about to fight with all he had, all his old mentor, Marvin, had told him, many years ago.

With a large circular movement of his hand, Arty cleared a path in front of him, getting sure not to endanger his troops, considering the Force was not with all of them. In fact, very few of his number had followed in his steps and received the knightly training. This did not remove any worth from the rest of his soldiers, however. These men had sworn fealty to his cause and were giving their life to prove it.