For someone who had not known defeat for more than seven years, this situation could not be angry. Howlhell, master Inquisitor and one of the most ruthless beings in the galaxy, watched through his red eyes as his bastion of terror fell to pieces before an innate strategist.
Above his head, his flagship was shamefully desecrated by these damned insurgents who, in his eyes, deserved nothing more than a slow and painful death. In front of him, his purge troops fell like flies before the powerful B2 rocket droids and that damn lasan that ended their lives one by one. And now, a super tactical droid was advancing towards him with a menacing look escorted by two dangerous magnaguard. The inquisitor could see his fate before his eyes, but he would not give up so easily.
Howlhell: - So... You're the one behind all this. - He said with a mocking tone, analyzing his possibilities to emerge victorious.
Icarus: - Inquisitor Howlhell... Al fin see you face to face. -
Howlhell: - Interesting... A rather strange expression for someone... no... Something of his type. Besides... I'm sure we already saw each other... And not long ago. -
Icarus: - Okay... I see you've figured it out... Honestly impressive. -
Howlhell: - You may be wearing a different shell now... But I still feel your essence... The same essence that I felt in Fondor... Tell me... Piece of metal... Do you... hate me? -
Icarus did not respond immediately. The meaning of the word hate was not as simple as the organics used it so casually. They often confuse hate with anger, rejection and lack of empathy. But no... Hate is something much deeper... Something that marks you for life and doesn't let you accept some things. It marks your past, clouds your principles and does not allow you to reconcile with the cause that originates it... Hatred is... absolute.
Icarus: - Yes... I hate him... inquisitor. -
Not even a cold-minded and calculating droid like him could reject that overwhelming truth. Icarus felt... hatred... Deep and true hatred for that damned being that now stood in front of him, with his spinning red saber ready to face his enemy. The image of Wag Too about to be decapitated repeated in his circuits like a corrupt code. The core of his chest pumped electric shocks throughout his body. Discharges that screamed anger through their cables. His fists were clenching. Its optical sensors shone with overwhelming intensity. And yet... the inquisitor could only laugh in anticipation.
Howlhell: - Yes... I thought it was a mistake... That the Force was playing with my mind. I thought it must be a mistake... But no... Now I see it very clearly. I don't know how, but I can feel your anger... I can taste it... I can feel all that denial that my presence invokes in you... And it is wonderful. -
At this point, Icarus reckoned for a second that the inquisitor had lost his mind. That accepting defeat had hit his sanity. However, even a droid like him knew that in those words he had hidden something... Something dangerous.
Howlhell: - Yes... That anger... That hatred is so... Primal... It's... Perfect. -
There was no doubt. Howlhell had lost his mind and was now in despair. Or that was what Icarus thought, but he never expected to see how the inquisitor extended his hand towards him, as if it were a letter of invitation.
Howlhell: - I don't know how... But the Force is alive in you... Come with me... Join me... BECOME MY APPRENTICE OF THE DARK SIDE... AND TOGETHER... WE WILL CLAIM THIS GALAXY! -
The droid's mind had received an unexpected blow. What was this crazy guy talking about? Did he even have any idea what he was saying? Icarus wouldn't take a second to refuse... But...
Howlhell: - TOGETHER WE WILL BRING ORDER TO THE STARS. THIS EMPIRE IS PATHETIC. YOUR PEOPLE ARE PATHETIC. HE WHO SITTS ON THE THRONE OF CORUSCANT IS AN IDIOT OLD MAN WHO DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO RULE. LOOK AROUND. YOU YOURSELF STARTED A REVULT AGAINST HIM... PATHETIC... JOIN ME. AND TOGETHER WE WILL LAY THIS GALAXY AT OUR FEET. FEAR WILL BE WHAT KEEPS THE STARS TOGETHER. NO ONE WILL DARE TO CHALLENGE US. WE WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE. I AM MADE OF FLESH AND BONE... BUT YOU ARE ETERNAL... JOIN ME AND... SOMEDAY... THIS ENTIRE GALAXY WILL BE YOURS. -
Icarus' computer paused for a second. A second in which he doubted the veracity of the information that his acoustic sensors were capturing. But a quick analysis made it clear that these worked perfectly.
Icarus's optical sensors shut down, as if his robotic consciousness fell into an induced transe. He calculated the inquisitor's words and how absurd they sounded... And yet... They were not without reason.
Joining the Inquisitor did not guarantee victory against the Empire, but it would certainly be a considerable force in their favor. Not to mention all the possible contacts and resources that the master Inquisitor could have up his sleeve. In fact... The offer was not as bad as it seemed.
It's true. A galaxy subjugated by fear was not the most optimal, but he himself knew that fear was a very powerful tool of control. He could create the empire this galaxy needed. Replace the deficiency of the stormtrooper with a colossal army of droids that would subdue the entire galaxy. No more wars... No more uprisings. Icarus would have absolute control.
The conflicts would end. The citizens would lead a simple life but devoid of misery. Populations would be controlled. Malice and ambition would be purged from societies. The worlds would be run by droids, which could not be corrupted or manipulated for the benefit of others. The organics would have a peaceful life under the control of the machines... And Tova would be able to grow in a Galaxy without wars... but...
Would I be happy?
The sound of a lightsaber igniting gave a premature response. Ki-Adi-Mundi's lightsaber now glowed in the tactical super droid's hand as its optical sensors slowly returned to their scarlet hue. His gaze met that of the inquisitor, and without the use of words, he gave him an absolute answer.
THERE WAS NO DEAL.
Howlhell: - It's a shame... We would have been very good companions. -
Icarus: - It's possible... But I think this galaxy would be a better place if you were dead. -
As soon as Icarus finished speaking, the two magnaguards attacked the inquisitor with implacable brutality. Howlhell had to dodge the two electrostaffs with his spinning double saber, while also somersaulting backwards to maintain a safe distance. That had been very fast, and the inquisitor was on the verge of succumbing to surprise. But he would not be defeated so easily.
Howlhell: - Okay... That was pretty disappointing. I thought that someone as "altruistic" as you would at least have the decency to have a fair fight... But it seems that I have overestimated you. -
These were not mere words. A being inexperienced and unable to control his emotions would surely fall into the trap of accepting a solo duel. Howlhell himself had used this strategy many times. He himself had dedicated himself to hunting Jedi, and he knew how easily they could fall for these provocations. Padawans spent so many years learning values during childhood that acting in the "right" way was something they simply couldn't ignore. Something that made them easy prey for a hunter like him. But not this time.
Even someone as bloodthirsty as Howlhell couldn't help but be shocked by what he saw and heard. Icarus was laughing... Laughing with an outrageous, somewhat psychotic laugh... but a laugh nonetheless. Impossible... Simply impossible... Icarus was a droid. The droids would never be able to reach such a point of consciousness. But there was that super tactical droids. Laughing in his face as if his provocation had been nothing more than a bad joke. And that wasn't all.
Icarus: - I think you're confused... No no no... I'm not an altruistic Jedi... I'm not someone who takes on a fair fight. I am not a legendary hero... No no no. I AM A COMMANDER. ONE COLD AND CALCULATOR. AND I WILL USE EVERYTHING AT MY DISPOSAL TO CRUSH YOU. GET READY INQUISITOR... BECAUSE I'M GOING TO DESTROY YOU. -
Icarus took it upon himself to give something back to the inquisitor... something he had lost several years ago: Fear.
His gaze cold and merciless, the green lightsaber pulsed with deadly force waiting to find the flesh of his opponent. On each side, the magnaguardias appeared imposing and ruthless. Their electrostaffs roared with fury, and their appearance of the Kaleesh warriors that General Grievous himself had given them reminded him of the Inquisitor they were dealing with. After all, these three in front of him... They were the real Jedi killers.
Howlhell did not have time to assimilate that fear that he had recovered. The magnaguardia attacked him once again, with clear intentions of ending his life. This time, Icarus himself joined the fray, putting the inquisitor at a considerable three-on-one disadvantage. His lightsaber was not as fast as the Magnaguardia's electrostaffs, but it was an annoyance that, although he could defeat in a fair duel, in this situation it was impossible for him.
Howlhell fought with a fierceness he had never experienced. His training to become an inquisitor hadn't even been that brutal. The droids in front of him showed no mercy or fatigue. They were cold machines. Assassins par excellence.
The inquisitor's saber swung from side to side with impossible speed. A cornered beast is the most dangerous of all, and Howlhell was an extremely dangerous beast. But these magnaguards were nothing any Jedi or Sith had ever faced.
Programmed in the seven forms of saber combat, the magnaguardia had reached a level of skill and ability that not even General Grievous himself was able to give them with his endless training. There was no form of fighting that they did not know. There was no technique that they were not capable of stopping and counterattacking.
Howlhell himself thought that the Force had abandoned him, since not even his Sith abilities were capable of stopping these metal hulks. His hands and feet clung to the ground like a ship's anchor on the seabed, and his Force thrusts were practically useless.
Howlhell's fingers felt the wrath of force lightning emanating from within the inquisitor. Anger and frustration materialized into a lethal electrical force, but the magnaguards' electrostaffs absorbed such fury as if it were child's play.
In a defining move, Icarus took a step forward, ridiculously closing the distance between him and his prey. Howlhell couldn't explain how a droid that wasn't designed for hand-to-hand combat was able to move so fast, but even he was unaware of how tired his body was and how slow his muscles moved.
Icarus's saber rose above his head, as if its light wanted to reach the sun itself that rose above the panorama. A simple but safe vertical attack would be as strong as the previous ones. Howlhell raised his, placing one of his blades horizontally to receive and parry the attack... But not this time.
In a fraction of a second, the inquisitor watched in terror as the blade of Icarus's saber went out as he fell, passing his blockade without encountering anything but the wind. And when he had it at the height of his chest, the lethal beam of light was catapulted until it crossed the inquisitor's body right in the middle of the chest, with a technique prohibited even for the Sith themselves known as Trakata. The most brutal style of all. (This is canon)
Howlhell was shocked when he saw this technique used against him. He knew it himself, but even someone as ruthless as him despised a style of combat so shameful and lacking in honor... No being of flesh and blood who is at least trained in the arts of the lightsaber would use something so tracking. It was an offense to duels... But Icarus was not a being of flesh and blood.
Now, Howlhell's body was losing its essence with every millisecond that passed. His heart had been burned by the attack, and the strength he had left was only enough to raise his head, trying to find an answer. At least someone as merciless as the tactical super droid would have the decency to explain why he lost.
Icarus:-I told you that... I was not a hero. -
And that was the last thing the inquisitor felt before his body fell onto the burning sand of Lasat... lifeless.