The Iron Dawn Pt. 4: The Droid You’re Looking For

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Editor’s Note: It’s Friday, and time for more The Iron Dawn. Part 1 here, part 2 here and part 3 here.

Irulan smashed a fist against the metal door.

“Kibur! We need you!” she shouted, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t hear her through a wall of solid iron. Sighing, she pulled her comlink out. “What level did you say the droid was on? And . . . hurry. Please.”

Kami’atra keenly peered around the doorframe into the room that the others had so feverishly ambushed and successfully defended.  The smile, which had at once crossed his countenance at the efficient relief of the Lt.’s attack, swiftly faded as Kibur’s message passed through the comlink; the beam of his visage now replaced by a clear, stern glower.

He turned his attention to the Lt. as the room had been cleared, and the team began stepping over fallen droids on their way toward the door. “Glad to have you beck Page… although how you arrived up here before us I may never understand; yet the past is past, isn’t it?  We’d best get back on the trail of our quarry before more reinforcements arrive; however, let’s try to avoid too many more of these mechanical entanglements, shall we?”

Glancing back and forth down either direction of the corridor and observing no further droid ambushes, Kami’atra returned his focus to his companions in the room.  “Now… Page, did you happen to see a path upward in your scouting of this facility?  We’ve another nine floors to ascend as swiftly and quietly as we can manage.”

“Kami’atra, one must take this journey with a little mystery” the Lt. stated, shaking the hand of his companion and nodding to Irulan and Bax. “Glad you could join me my friends, now let’s talk options on the best way to proceed”

Page raised his comlink. “Kibur, option one, I have some explosive gel that will open that door, and may not bring this tower down, and we can move up together. Option two, Bax stays and attempts to get this door open, by the time he does we will hopefully have the droid and we can get out of here. Option three, you make your way back to the ship and meet us at the top of the tower, and we exit from the top. I argue for option three, the less time we are in this tower the better.” As he finished his speech, he replaced a heavily used power pack, checked his weapon and rested it on his shoulder, awaiting his companion’s reply.

Kami’atra smiled at the Lt.’s take-charge personality and the oration of like manner – although, he already knew in his heart of hearts that Kibur would follow his own path, which sometimes directed him perpendicular to sound suggestions or authoritative advice.  As he awaited Kibur’s reply, Kami’atra began to slowly pace to and fro within the divergent corridors of this hall in which he and his companions stood; he appeared to be looking for a method of ascension within the grid of this makeshift tower.

He returned to his friends with an inspired look upon his countenance. “While you make your decision, Kibur, the rest of you may note that there are a few options before us in regard to our impending climb.  At each end of this T-junctioned corridor there is a potential mode for getting to level twelve, where Kibur affirmed the target droid resided.”

Motioning to the right corridor path, he said, “There is another stairwell at the end of this segment – I’d have you know that although it would prove our safest route, it would cost us considerably in time lost to the other pursuers of this prize.”

Directing their attention to the left, he added, “An elevator of sorts will be found roughly halfway down this hall. The lighting nearby the elevator is flickering heavily, as you can see, and the door currently rests slightly ajar, but as to the technical stability of the mechanism itself, I am certainly no expert, as Bax could attest.”

“The central corridor ahead of us possesses what appears to be the most sound of our elevator possibilities; however, there is what looks to be a security camera assembly directed at the elevator’s entrance.  The choice is up to the team, but as we all know, time is of the essence.”  He nodded in the mean direction of his companions in conclusion of his oration, which seemed as well-practiced as the recitation of a veteran Alpherides dragoman.

“You move on,” said Kibur from the comlink. “I’ll go grab the ship and meet you at the top. Level Twelve. Keep your heads down.” Kibur saluted the door, then turned to head down the stairs, blaster at the ready for the droids below.

Irulan clipped her lightsaber back into her belt. “You’re right, Kami’atra – we need to hurry. Let’s take the elevator that’s straight ahead. It’s not like they don’t know we’re here, anyway.”

She began to head towards the dark elevator shaft directly ahead of them. As she approached, the security camera slowly turned, until it was pointing at her. She pressed the pad to the right side, and the door slid noiselessly open. Stepping inside, she turned and looked back to her companions, holding the door. “Shall we?”

Kami’atra considered to himself as Irulan continued past the security array with an overconfidence widely beknownst of younger human Jedi. “You never know who is watching you through those facilities… It’s not necessarily the droids that I’d consider our greatest threat on this largely unknown sphere.”  If his thoughts had been at all available for penetration, his strong distrust in sentient misuse of technology would have become highly evident.

He nodded to Irulan as he smiled past Bax and Page before looking upward with a focal concentration that seemed to gaze well beyond the tower itself; through steel and rubble, mechanic and organic alike, Kami’atra lifted his ‘eyes’ unto the celestial hills well beyond.  He inhaled deeply and held it within for a moment that seemed an eternity, imagining the air as a silver ribbon swirling within his core — a simple meditation among his tribe that would certainly have been considered by the vast majority of star systems as ascetic and esoteric in nature.

Kami’atra encouraged his remaining companions with a comradely pat to the back of Page’s shoulder and an ardent smile and nod to Bax and his droidlings. “We shall, Irulan, we shall…”

As he arced speedily toward the open elevator, he scraped the metal of his gauntleted fingers across the length of the corridor’s wall with a slightly audible screech. Just before he arrived at the elevator, Kami’atra stopped beneath the camera and watched as it seemed to swivel back and forth seeking him out. He smiled as he reached up and pulled the wire connected to a nearby outlet.  The lights atop the security camera slowly dimmed as the camera itself whirred to a halt and slowly hung its visage in disconnected shame at even attempting to track the Crew of the Iron Dawn’s whereabouts.  With this, Kami’atra stepped into the elevator beside Irulan with a knowing smile and nod to her as he passed, and waited for the others to arrive.

The Lt., slinging his repeater across his shoulder, began slowly following his companions while straightening out his old flight jacket as he entered the elevator. “Ready when you are.”

The elevator began to rise, grinding and scraping against the metal within the shaft. The rust was practically audible, screeching in protest. The light inside the elevator flickered on and off. Slowly and steadily the elevator rose. The silence in the air was palpable.

The elevator grinded to a halt on the top floor. Slowly, the door opened to a large room, one hundred feet wide in all directions. The walls were pieces of scrap metal piled around each other, some bolted in place. The whole room was very dark, but for the single bluish light shining down in the center of the room on a single droid. Its head was slumped down. It was thin, a skeletal frame, white enamel covering its metal casing. Slowly it looked up, a single red eye in the middle of its face. It shuddered slightly; its light flickered.

During the crew’s hyperspace travel to this forsaken planet, Kami’atra had, in very general terms, foreseen the entire encounter leading up to this moment. As the elevator doors opened wide, his expression produced a visage in similar fashion; he realized at this moment that he had overlooked or otherwise been obstructed from bearing witness to this room and what would take place therein.

As he reigned in the self-shame of having not the foresight to perceive what would transpire, his countenance became stalwart as he sheathed the Kami’ken and struck his gauntleted fists together. Upon clenching his white-knuckled grip on their inner-casing, Kami’atra’s gauntlets flared to life with bluish-grey strands of vibrant energy which served the purpose of lighting the area around him (as well as proclaiming their ‘stunning’ affect on all who would befall their grip).  Kami’atra then lifted his hands above his head so as to provide further illumination and to not perchance blind his companions with the sudden light source.

He strayed not far from the elevator’s heavy door, but continued to peer about their new environs as his companions made their own perceptions about the room they found themselves within. “Beware, friends… I sense malevolence afoot, yet I know not from whence it shall arise.  The look of this metal cyclops is foreboding; however, it may not be the only threat herein.  Take care to uphold your defenses.”  He glanced slightly back toward the elevator, “Do you feel it also, Irulan?”

As the robot looked up at her with its solitary red eye, Irulan felt a sudden cold creeping down her spine. She closed her eyes, focusing – trying to read the force energies surrounding them in the darkness.

“Kam . . . something’s wrong here. I can’t explain it. It . . . it feels like a trap. But we have no choice – we’ve come this far; we can’t stop now.” She pulled her lightsaber from its clip, and with a humming sound it flared to life. Slowly but deliberately, she stepped out of the elevator shaft and approached the droid.

The droid was scanning the room, but the minute Vendalion stepped forward, it snapped to face her. A silence fell over the room. The droid spoke only three words. “Please… Help me.”

Immediately the Lt. raised his weapon in preparation to defend his young Jedi companion, but in hopes of keeping dialog open, he left his trigger finger on his repeater’s trigger guard. “Help?” “Help with what?” he stated with a quizzical, yet sympathetic tone to what appeared to be a plea for mercy.

Full of compassion, even for this mechanical being, Kami’atra continued lighting the way forward until he reached the edge of the illuminating circle of the overhanging bulb.  He then lowered his arms and gently, cautiously, placed his hand upon the hilt of his sheathed blade before awaiting the response to Page’s inquiry.  His vision scanned the room – searching, scouring, but for what?  Life, movement… anything that might pose a threat to the team.

At the sound of the droid’s hopeless plea, Irulan lowered her blade slightly. She hated it when sub-human creatures, whether animals or droids, were abused and treated like garbage.

“Can’t you see? He’s been . . . damaged; he’s in bad shape. I wonder if someone has already tried to ‘extract’ whatever information he may have, with little regard for the droid himself.”

“It’s alright – we won’t hurt you,” she said gently, approaching the robot. “Who has done this?”

Without taking his eyes off the droid nor lowering his weapon until he could tell the droid was not a threat, the Lt. decided to make use of his two “fore-seeing” companions. “Irulan, Kam, do you sense anything or anyone nearby?”

Kami’atra stared into the crimson depths of the droid’s transfixing oculus; his ‘vision’ faded, blurred, refocused, and redefined the environs of the room as he gazed through the droid and obtained perspective on the 360 degree surroundings that he found himself within. Standing near the center of the room, Kami’atra could now envision the near entirety of the room save for the very edges and where crates or columns might provide cover for foes.

“Lt., I see no other movement in the room, but no one would stay within plain sight for long in these conditions.” He inaudibly smelled the cool air of the room before responding further to the inquiry, “I sense ambush, though whether it be by attack or malevolent deception, I, of yet, know not.  The droid appears harmless and even pitiful, but its tone and demeanor belie another motive altogether.”

He looked back toward Bax with a slight nod as the Dug stood near the elevator, before inquiring further of the droid, “What is it you need assistance with, droid?  What torments you herein and to what sinister purpose?”

The droid looked at Kami-atra. “I am designated HA-K7. I have information vital to the safety of the Republic. They have tried to take it from me, but…” he paused a moment. “Look out!”

Alan immediately reacted to the droid’s cry and spun around to face any would-be adversaries to him or his companions.

A nearby pile of junk crumbled away, as an enormous form emerged from the heap. Rising was an enormous droid made of a mish-mash of parts. Its head appeared to be the cockpit of a Firespray-31-Class Patrol and Attack Craft, while mounted to its massive arms were Taim & Bak KX9 laser cannons, pulled off a starfighter. Its hydraulics and gears groaned with size and age. From within the darkened glass of the former cockpit, two blue lights of eyes flashed on, looking down on the heroes. It stood over 50 feet tall, hulking and rusting.

Irulan’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of this monstrosity. But with only a second’s hesitation, she darted to the center of the room towards HA-K7, placing herself between him and the huge droid. She pulled out her blaster pistol and aimed it unwaveringly. “Get behind that desk – come on!” she shouted at HA-K7, not taking her eyes off their new enemy.

“Madam, I cannot. I’m afraid this restraining bolt on my chest impedes me from assuming locomotive capacity.” The droid gestured to the round knob fused to his chest.

With little in the way of conscious thought or experiential paradigm for this event, Kami’atra ran toward this monstrous behemoth of wreckage with a gleam in his visage without remembrance. He darted to one side of the epic creation as his clenched gauntlets ignited to true life and he scoured the beast’s hull for a weakness in wiring or exposed circuitry.

As his swift feet brought him ever nearer the mechanized wonder, his lips mouthed unutterable linguistics of a foreign tongue. He scraped his fingers along the sides of a crate tossed aside in the droid’s wake before clenching his teeth and leaping upon the leg/base of the mechanical menace, clinging to its edges and conduits.