Chapter Text
Coruscant reminded CT-2934 of Kamino. Not in the way that most of the troopers thought about it. They focused on the tight corridors and the people yelling at them or beating them with stuff. To be fair, that was an accurate assessment, but that wasn’t what 2934 thought about when he compared the two.
It was how far down it went.
2934 remembered scuba training beneath the towering platform of their facility. It was far from a major focus, but with a few districts on the Capital world containing aquatic environments, it was deemed necessary to introduce the Guard to the basics. He remembered the water, how it lapped and pulled at him even in the cordoned-off tubes. He remembered how, as he dove, the already dim light faded away. The deeper one went, the less light broken through the water until only darkness surrounded him.
That was why Coruscant reminded him of Kamino. Only on Kamino, the ocean was something to be avoided. If you fell in, outside of special training, you were dead. It was an abstraction more than a real thing; he knew that he stretched down for tens of kilometers, but he had never been that deep.
On Coruscant? It was deep. So deep and winding and mangled together that he didn’t even know if there was a bottom. And the darkness as one went down the levels was just as encroaching as the deep sea on Kamino. The other key difference? It was their job to go down there.
—<>—<>—<>—
The gunship whirred beneath him as they descended an inter-level access shaft. The doors slid open, letting in the dazzling array of lights from the undercity. As 2934 looks out, the brightness fades, and the darkness between those lights takes over his field of view. There is so much more darkness than there is light, closing in around the glow as if trying to choke it.
Below, people scattered in all directions as the LAAT landed in the nearest open square. Sergeant Hound gave a quick flick of his wrists, and the two squads he led hopped out onto the dirty pavement. The gunship took off into the air, circling up into the blackness of the metal sky. Another silent command, and 2934 fell in behind the others as they swept into the undercity.
2934 didn’t know why they were down here. He’d heard about what earlier expeditions had found, of course; ancient weapons or small trinkets so covered in rust they were barely recognizable. About how they went lower into the shadows, and strayed away further from their landing zones. Of course, while he might wonder, he didn’t question. Lord Sidious surely knew, and so he would obey.
The buildings this far down were caked in grime and rust, the duracrete streets barely visible through the mounds of trash. The buildings themselves were more compact, any designs or other markings long-since worn away. The few people they saw were just as beaten down and dirtied, staring at the passing troopers from beneath ratty ponchos or from behind barely-habitable buildings.
They moved further and further away from the main road in this segment of the level. As they did, the lights from the surrounding buildings and the overhead beams grew dimmer and dimmer. Soon, they were signaled to halt, and the order to flip on their low-light filters was given.
With a flick of a button, his HUD was filled with a black-and-white filter. The contrast was raised considerably, allowing him to pick out more details in the dirty back alleys. A ping came through his comm, which he answered with one of his own. After a few moments, the signal to keep moving came again, and 2934 stood back up.
The unit moved, slowly and methodically, through the dark outer reaches of the district. Even more grime clung to every surface, standing out as streaks on a variety of surfaces that were as dark as space in his helmet's filters. However, the people were more prevalent. They stared more openly, standing in the entrances to alleys or in windows. Their looks were like those of the people in the upper levels, minus the dirtied faces and squalor, of course, but not quite. There was something else there, a hunger or anger that made 2934’s grip tighten on his blaster.
“Tuti ichiy,” his squad leader said over comms, “But no reason to get into a fight we don’t have to.”
They finally broke free from the buildings, entering onto an abandoned boulevard lined with elevator shafts. Almost all of them were broken and lightless, though a few still appeared to have power. They skirted parallel to the elevators, blasters trained on the dark.
Suddenly, lights flared to life from a nearby block of buildings. 2934 cursed, squeezing his eyes shut as his hand went to dim the light. Before he could even reach the controls, blaster fire tore through the darkness, forcing him to leap for the nearest source of cover. He found it in the form of one of the abandoned control panels. Other troopers joined him behind the cover, peeking out around it in an attempt to return fire.
“Black Sun!” one of the other troopers yelled. 2934 bit back a swear as he adjusted his helmet's filter to allow him to actually see their attackers. Down below level 2000, criminal enterprises held more sway than Republic Law Enforcement. Even the Jidai, for all their supposed power, were too cowardly to come down here. And while they were often poorly equipped, they were smarter than the gangs higher up and much, much more tenacious.
2934 peeked around the terminal, scanning down the length of the elevator bay. At least three troopers were down, the rest scattered and hiding behind terminals, large bits of trash, or in the deactivated elevators. Looking over to the buildings, he spotted several of their attackers peeking out from cover, approaching them under cover from a pair of repeating blasters on upper floors.
It was at one of those blasters that he focused his fire. Closing one eye, he focused on the reticle that formed on his HUD, lining it up with the silhouette illuminated by the rapid flare of blaster fire. He squeezed the trigger, and a blue bolt flew out. The silhouette disappeared, and the blaster fell silent.
Sergeant Hound’s voice roared over the comm: “Squad One, hold position. Squad Two, prepare to split off. Move up by section, get back to the buildings and run them down. Asha ul kûts!”
“Asha ul kûts!” echoed all of the still active troopers. As a part of squad two, 2934 ducked back and crouch-walked behind the terminal. His HUD flickered with the numbers of three of his squadmates, all doing the same. They clutched their blasters closely, breathing deeply, before, finally, the command came.
They burst from cover, firing blindly into the searchlights in hopes of keeping their enemies' heads down. Clouds of trash stirred up in their wake as they moved, crouching low and racing from cover to cover. 2934 got a little bit ahead of the others, ducking behind a wrecked speeder and firing towards the second repeating blaster. The others slammed into the speeder next to him, and as he stood up to move again–
*WHOOM!!*
Something slammed into his right arm. It felt like a blaster bolt but heavier, almost as if there was a physical weight behind the impact. He tumbled back, the kinetic energy of the blow sending him skittering across the ground like a rolled ball. Dust speared up across his body, slipping into his helmet seal and making him gag.
His back slammed into something hard, forcing the air out of his lungs. Despite the solid impact, whatever he hit deformed under his impact, cracking and sending splinters of metal flying around him. He tumbled back, finding himself inside one of the broken elevators.
2934 attempted to rise, only to have his left arm ignite in pain as he tried to hoist himself up. He yelped, falling back down. As his full weight impacted the elevator, he heard something snap.
A moment later, the elevator went into freefall.
Air shot back into his lungs as he was jostled, falling onto his back. His brain began to scream in time with the whistling of air around him. The elevator shot downward, plummeting deeper and deeper. In blind panic, his good arm shot out towards the buttons, hoping to hit anything that might stop his descent.
By the grace of the Ancient Lords, his hands hit the emergency brake. The elevator ground to a halt, throwing him up and slamming him into the floor in one swift motion. 2934 groaned, rolling his head on the floor as he attempted to right himself. Everything, not just his arm, now burned. He rasped out his breath, the familiar ache of broken bones dulling everything into the same dull, lingering pains.
Finally, he managed to find the strength to stand back up. His chest and his left arm continued to burn, but he still forced his legs to move. Picking himself up, he slung the folded stock of his carbine over the railing, using the leverage to pull himself up. 2934 looked around, spotting a gap in the otherwise smooth, rust-streaked walls.
Once again using his carbine as a hook, he managed to hoist himself out through the gap and into the hallway. He was greeted by sheer blackness, no matter which way he looked, save for a faint sliver illuminating the elevator shaft. He set down his blaster and reached for the controls on his helmet's display, but even at the highest contrast, he could see only a few feet in front of him.
He flicked on his helmet's IR lights just in time for something to emerge from the darkness. 2934 didn’t have time to get a good look at it; he only got an impression of bone-white skin stretched over a thin body, a mouth filled with razor-like fangs, and eye sockets covered with a layer of skin. The ghoul pounced on him, fangs snapping towards his throat. 2934 brought his good arm up, smashing the grip into the side of the thing's head.
The impact made the thing get off of him, twisting around and snarling. It turned back, saliva dripping from its mouth as it lunged again. There was no time to aim here, not time to think or to plan or anything. Asha ul kûts, Asha ul kûts, Asha ul kûts. The words echoed in his head. “Victory or Death”. He would not die down there.
He squeezed the trigger, a blue bolt illuminating the abandoned level around him for a brief moment. The blaster bolt tore through the creature, eliciting another yelp from the creature. It tumbled down, letting out a vicious, bone-chilling howl. 2934 shot it again, then again and again. He had fired ten shots into the creature before it finally stopped moving.
More of those howls echoed through the abandoned, dark-shrouded buildings around him. If he stayed still, he would die. Victory would be escape, and he could only escape if he moved. With one final look at the only light besides his own helmet lights, he ran.
—<>—<>—<>—
29 Hours Later…
The underworld was never quiet, but some sounds were better than others. The howls of the Corridor Ghouls or Chaosas knows what else down there? Bad. Dripping fluid from above? Potentially good. Hissing or screeching? Good. Sure, there would be something there, but it might be something. Maybe it would be light, which would be a way out. Maybe it would just be something else. It didn’t matter; move, move, and stay alive.
2934 moved through streets and tunnels made from collapsed buildings. He didn’t know how far down he was, but it was deep enough that he felt like he was drowning. Darkness closed in all around him, the only thing piercing it being the lights coming from his helmets.
There were… things, down there. More than the monsters and the long-abandoned buildings and areas that lacked air. He caught glimpses of things in the distance; buildings, or things the size of buildings, that moved. Shadows attached to shadows. Baleful light that pierced the ruins before fading. Things that made no sense. Air that tasted like… This was worse than Kamino’s seas. This was worse; he had to get out. Had to, had to, had to.
He staggered forward, trying to ignore the burning in his shattered arm and in his chest and his throat. The mission was supposed to be only a few hours at most, and so he didn’t have the resources for long-term aid. His water flask had been destroyed by the impact, and he had already torn through the few ration bars he had brought with him.
Another howl. 2934 ducked behind what might once have been a building, clenching his grip on his carbine as tight as he could make it. He stayed as still as possible as the howls grew louder and louder. He caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, the Corridor Ghoul hissing, its large ears twitching as it prowled the same batch of rubble. Eventually, however, it seemed to have lost him, as it let out another howl and sprinted in another direction.
2934 sighed, turned away, and continued to move. His light swayed as he moved, his head lolling on his neck. He was… so damn tired. Everything burned, and he just wanted to fall down and sleep… But no. He couldn’t do that. Sleep would mean something would find him. If he was found, he was dead. Asha ul kûts, Asha ul kûts.
He had tried to keep close to the wall that had the elevator he had fallen down. If there was one elevator, there might be another one. One that would work. But debris had forced him to move out into the city. He hoped he was making his way back around to the wall, and that he wasn’t lost. If he were… Well, that wasn’t an option.
As he clambered down a small rubble pile, his foot slipped on a loose stone. He slipped, falling onto his back and slipping the final few feet down to street level. His back screamed in agony, and he had to bite his tongue to avoid doing the same. The stock of his carbine had broken off from using it as a climbing aid so much, so he had to press the muzzle into the ground to allow him to rise again. Back on his feet, he staggered forward, his boots scraping against dust and scraps. Noise was unavoidable, but he didn’t care.
There it was! There was the wall! And there was an elevator! He stumbled forward as fast as his legs would allow him to, ignoring everything in his mad scramble to escape. He was certain he heard howls echoing through the dead city behind him, but the noise was drowned out by the ringing of his own heartbeat in his ears. He dove into the elevator, pressing the up button.
And, to his eternal delight, the elevator began to hum. The doors didn’t slide shut, but the whir of repulsor emitters coming online sounded like the sweetest, most musical sound he had ever heard. It began to rise, and 2934 laughed like a madman as the underworld disappeared from sight.
His hysterical laughter was only just dying down as the elevator came to a shuddering halt. 2934 didn’t recognize the level as he staggered out, but all that mattered was that he could see distant lights. Not the dread, unnatural lights below, but neon signs and the glare of speeders and the interior lights of inhabited buildings. His laughter had turned into weeping, and he fell to his knees.
From there, he fell onto his side, wincing from the jostling of certainly broken bones. He let go of his carbine, a hand reaching up for his comm. He tapped against the transmitter and was rewarded with a gentle hum. Not the static that accompanied him below, but… a signal. He had coms.
“C-ct-2934,” he rasped. His throat burned, and his words came out hoarse and strangled, but he had to talk. He had ot survive. Victory was so close. “2934. This… 2934. A-asha ullll kûts.” His vision swam, and his eyes felt so heavy. No, no, no. He was close. He had to be! He couldn’t die here, not now. “Asha ul kûts.”
And everything went dark.
—<>—<>—<>—
As he cracked open his eyes, he was almost instantly blinded by bright, pure white lights. He gasped for air, and it came back crisp and without (much) pain. Everything still burned, but it was a dull ache. Was… Was he dead? Was this what death was like? Some of the instructors spoke of death being… Well, more on fire. Sure, he could barely see, but he felt cold if nothing else.
“Wh-what?” he said. Even with his throat no longer dry as a Senator’s humor, his voice held a whispery quality. “Wh-wh-ere?”
“Ah, you are alive,” a voice said. 2934 stiffened, recognizing Sergeant Hound. He tried to move, only for a gentle hand to press down on his chest. “Easy, trooper. You’ve been through hell.”
Ha, if only the Sarge knew. “I… I can’t see.”
“You spent over a day in near pitch black,” another voice said. “Your eyes are likely adjusting to the normal light levels. Hold on, I’ll dim them for you.” Sure enough, the lights grew less intense. Everything around him was still blurry and washed out, but at least he could see. “Better?”
“Yis’r,” he slurred, rolling his head. “I–What happened?”
“We found you by one of the elevator banks on Level 1314,” Hound said. His voice, normally so full of mirth and violent exultation, was unusually soft. “Beaten to hell, but somehow alive.”
“Three broken ribs, a concussion rifle impact on your left arm, and severe dehydration,” the medic listed off. “Among other injuries. As well as being covered in blood, most of which was not your own.”
“I… Stuff… In the dark, I–”
The hand returned, pressing on his chest again. He winced, but stopped speaking. “Enough of that. You already came back from the dead, no need to think about it.”
“Agreed,” the medic added. “Sergeant Hound and his men found you just in the nick of time. Less than an hour more… Well, the men wouldn’t have been calling you the revenant. Just a dead man.” He heard some shifting and the beeping of a machine, and a new pair of boots approached his bed. “I’m going to put you under for a bit. Give the bacta more time to do its work.”
“Wait,” 2934 said, reaching out blindly. The hand left his chest and caught his hand, squeezing it. “I… I won. Didn’t I? Asha ul kûts, right?”
“If coming back from the dead isn’t victory, I don’t know what is,” Hound said. “You’ve earned your victory, Revenant. How does that sound?”
Revenant nodded. He… This was the ultimate victory. Cheating death at every turn, going through hell and coming out. He was supposed to be dead, but he came back. He was victorious. Victory or Death. His was a victory over death. “Good.”
“Good,” Hound said back. “Now… You’ve earned your rest. You’ll wake up.” There was a soft, but distinctly Hound-like chuckle. “You came back once. You’ll do it again.” Revenant smiled, and let the needle slide into his arm. The darkness claimed him again, but he wasn’t afraid. As the Sergeant said, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. The Guard wouldn’t be going anywhere.