Chapter 53 — Road to Hell — Right Hand of the Daemon
Part 2
Sofa
She ought to feel bad at having teleported a grenade onto a ship in orbit and blasting them apart. Instead she felt empowered, strong and a little sexy even.
Once more she had tried to warn someone not to fight the Aethans, and they responded by threatening her with gang rape. Enraged she pounded out of the hold sealing the ship with the three unconscious wards within.
“Frelling bastards aren’t backing down!” she shouted across the hangar drawing odd stares. Her skin was tingling with rage, once more regretting being with them…but she’d hitched her tug to the convoy now. If she’d actually been married to Valens maybe then she could accept it as part of the ‘for better or worse’…so far she’d had a hell of a lot of ‘worse’ and not much ‘better’.
No one else seemed to feel her enthusiasm for bashing these sicko’s heads in.
The Sons with resigned movements pulled apart their ships and cargo droids to build makeshift traps, wall plating for improvised armour sharing out the few Chiss weapons they had, most convinced this would be their last stand.
The Creatures called Yuuzhan Vong being instructed by Lyaea as they prepared their weird weapons had the same down cast look – they had their freedom but now had to fight for reasons they didn’t understand to keep it.
Even the Demi-Gods, Black-Stone armour chipped and scarred from facing Morgukai, Vong, Crimson Nova, Black Sun, Jedi and Sith. The distress of what had been done to Lydan and Kassydra, Milaea’s uncertain state, the threat Xithar still posed and their own psychological issues made them walking contagions of demoralisation.
The dim atmosphere conflicted starkly with Sofa’s pounding red anger after her peace offer was rejected with such bile…and more and more people were staring at her…Keison hauling a Blackstone Rifle with difficulty nearby dropped it cracking the floor, a few Vong across the room fell to their knees.
Only when she looked over to Adaea with Maynard prepping their ships did she see why in a shipping containers reflection.
She was glowing blue as her sabre, eyes a blinding white, hair sticking out and gently swaying in the energy flow. As all eyes turned to her Valens cautiously approached.
“Are you alright…” he whispered
Her hands were luminous glowing with energy…mind raced to understand what was happening…Soryu often said to unlock ones full potential your mind, body and Soul needed to be in harmony – more than a little of Odjina’s influence…but it made sense.
So long she had been divided, emotions at war between loving the people and hating the situation…her new body a mystery for too long…now she felt complete, focused without a doubt that she needed to kill the scum racing toward her at 586.7KMPH in a Rendili Drive Yards Transport…
“Avatar,” The Vong Called her
“Hand of Aertemisaea…” Kiraea whispered more than a little proud
Right hand of the Goddess or finally fully accepting her new life?
Something prompted her to project her voice across Station 7 aetherically – divine mouth piece or just an attempt to improve morale who knew?
“I know it seems like we’re outnumbered, out gunned, trapped, we’ve all taken a lot of hits, a lot of wounds over the last few weeks.” Her voice echoed in every mind apart from those dead to the aether.
“They’ve taken everything from us!”
Selaena looked up sadly but then with swift motion took up her rifle Lyaea dry pulled her bow.
“They took our freedom”
Keison, Komo, Mmbri gripped their weapons tighter, the Extolled leered skyward with ferocious licking of lipless teeth.
“Stole our families,”
Maeson, Adaea, dozens of Sons steeled their expressions
“Robbed us of our Hope,”
Jarys, Kiraea and Valens all firmed against the distress of Milaea’s suffering, the loss of the clones.
“Deprived us of Childhood”
She felt her heart start to pump at even hinting at her own history.
“Today that ends! Today we give them NOTHING,”
A surge in her body, skin warming
“And we take EVERYTHING”
Forcefully pointing to the closed door of the cargo hangar
“This is where we hold them off!”
They followed her gesture to the catwalks and makeshift cover points
“This is where we fight”
All eyes and visual sensors focused on the point just in front of a firing hole that represented the entirety of their defensive line
“And this is where they DIE!”
The hangar exploded in exuberance and confidence
“Yun’Qaaaaaaahh” the Extolled screeched even above the four hundred or so Sons crying “Freedom!” in the hangar, four hundred more across the Station echoing it.
More discretely Kiraea echoed a sentiment across the aether as the unofficial priestess <Aertemisaea SPEAKS Kill them ALL>
<<<<>>>>
Five Thousand Raiders
Jol Boos and Jyx Tvril were incinerated by Sofa’s grenade along with any semblance of control over the conglomerate fleet.
If the Vulptereen authorities who accepted the bribes to allow Boos forces to come planet side – not that they could refuse given the sheer numbers arrayed against them – thought that the attack would remain focused only on the logistics station they were terribly wrong.
Four thousand of the galaxies most violent mercenaries, pirates, slavers, along with ambitious Black Sun Nova Corps and Aqualish Quara Elites descended not just onto the Station – but the surrounding factories and warehouses, looting and trashing a number of Viper Sensor Intelligence Systems contractors as well as their main distribution node making off with droid components and prototypes to sell on the black market.
Amongst them, toward the back lines the Rendili Destroyer call-sign
Blood Remebers kept a low profile despite its size. Goush on board tapping his command throne eager to finally pay off his debt to Xithar by ‘helping’ Boos destroy the Sons of Kessel….
And then turn on them, Kill Boos and install Xithars arse-licker Tsen as the new Vigo.
This was to be a triple cross that saw Xithar reign supreme amongst the Black Sun
and wipe away the last Sons of Kessel away in one stroke.
That Lucovis also intended to grind down the Demi-Gods with the assault was a level of strategic insight beyond any of the Four Thousand sacrificial victims.
The Planetary Militia and Private security stood little chance against rampaging freebooters, unwilling to put their lives on the line for stock and machinery. In orbit the sheer number of outlaw ships deterred the small planetary defence fleet from resisting proving Oma’s criticism of the Republics lack of a Naval force.
In Station 7 a conglomerate just as strange prepared to meet them.
<<<<>>>>
Maynard
Cutting sharp turns in the
Happy Gorbil he checked port sensors, Xandra nearby in tight formation with the
Smiling Gormin through the clouds of rubbish just inside Vulpters one ‘tourist’ attraction the Orbital Advertising Ring - an enormous advertisement billboard that surrounded the entire planet with kilometer-wide neon signs between the trash, if the pink and purple world were not so polluted its shadow might’ve ruined crop growth.
“OK coming up on their position…” Adaea commed over. Just outside the rings of rubbish the flotilla of Black Sun and Raiders was disgorging dozens of smaller transports – what had started as a bounty strike for Keison had turned into a simple pirate raid.
Maynard had been a thief, a good one, still was on occasion – but raiding, piracy disgusted him - a good thief doesn’t intimidate or use violence – a good thief is
never even seen and only takes from those too rich and stupid to deserve their excess.
Adaea’s
Lucky Gondur slowed – he had a sympathy for the ‘cute’ names Adaea gave things it showed a side of the Aethans others really didn’t see - maybe it was mental programming but he felt sorrow for the society they had lost, as close to perfect as possible, peaceful, contented – no poverty or crime everyone feeling others pain…and the Galaxy had come in a frelled it all up.
He slowed the sub light and found a chunk of discarded hull to land on first step of their plan as the sensor showed the descent of the most pungent scum the galaxy could offer.
Maynard smiled to be on the right hand of the Daemons rather than amidst the fools in their path.
<<<<>>>>
Keison
If there was one thing slaves were good at – it was improvising and scavenging. For food, .weapons and traps….
hope.
An hour wasn’t much time, but with Brute Squad and several hundred hands and manipulator limbs they had done pretty well to set up traps and weapons from their ruined ships and the industrial supplies in Station 7 – cannons taken off ships, plasma cutters, cargo droids, console back up power cells all pressed into service.
“Enemy sighted, approaching West and South.” The crisp Chiss voice came across one of the few communicators they could share across Squad leaders – the Chiss wouldn’t fight but would give them long range intelligence – a ‘training exercise’ for their junior offices. At least they got a few Charric rifles to boot.
Even here in the main entrance hall he could hear the sound of explosions from the Pirates attacking nearby factories, getting worked up and surrounding them – to get the bounty they needed heads and bio-matter – plus an orbital strike would deprive Boos of carrying the Sons heads on a pike to Nar Shadda and Rorak IV to be ringed around the Slave markets as a warning – so face to face it was.
The heavy doors ahead rocked dust falling from the lintel, if it wasn’t him they wanted it would be whoever was in charge, Keison knew he was no one special, just a man fighting for those who couldn’t…
A dull red lit the centre of the door – plasma lance most likely – growing to orange, yellow then flaking off as molten blobs.
“This is where WE FIGHT!” he echoed Sofa as more flakes of superheated metal peeled off - if the other Daemons were even half as strong as Jarys….
“This is where they DIE!” he fired the first shot.
<<<<>>>>
Mmbri
“Mumbles south west side breach!” Kiraea called out over the comm as Keison and Magma was forced back to the second line.
“Ice Squad ready to chill em!” Trill called out beside him…shrill would be a better name for the Yinchorri, ever since her mate had died in captivity she’d had a high pitched shriek of a voice that no slaver would’ve forgotten had they lived long enough after meeting her.
Mmbri clasped the heavy black rifle thinking on Xoar as he pounded out rattling steps through the steel access tunnels…to die so far from Wayland, not in battle but by betrayal as the
Freeblade smashed into the Station. So many brothers lost….And if they did not win here…all would be lost.
“Remember the words of our Allies!” he called as the drifted round a corner on hot heels,
“This is where we stand! And this is where we fight!”
Coming into the plant room he slammed his shoulder into a column as the blasts came at him
“And this is where they DIE!”
<<<<>>>>
Keison
Station 7 wasn’t a military facility, but still the Industrial strength columns built to support huge stores of machinery took solid hits.
The entrance hall was an abatoir littered with Gand corpses and droid chunks when they’d pulled back, the improvised explosives and plasma cutter traps ripping the first wave apart. A rigged up ships forward cannon had vaporized the second wave, he’d hoped they might turn back – but they weren’t facing a single army – they were facing six dozen different bands who wanted their comrades of convenience dead – less competition for the bounty.
After taking six losses they’d fallen back into the office areas – no one worked here it was just part of the prefab plan for the logistics facility, now the little work rooms stored spare power packs and held traps - as a flock of Talortai swooped in as they retreated.
“Some Yinchorri and Transohsans have started fighting amongst themselves…will keep up the suggestion.” Valens reported - Keison spared a moment for a smile before poking out to fire a charric blast into a feathered chest – mind frelling them was a good start.
“Hrnnk!” a Duro to his side took a hit to the shoulder, flopping into the hall to be shredded by blaster fire.
Snapping off another shot one of the far offices exploded plasma outward as a trap was triggered. The air was swiftly filling with gases launched by Trandoshans who were skirting the edges - obscuring most of his Squads vision and irritating their skin.
A huge crash sounded as an interior wall was broken
“Their pushing through the offices!”
“Damn, Blizzard fall back!”
<<<<>>>>
Mmbri
“uungg” he tugged himself back up shaking off the after effects of the sonic grenade, he couldn’t afford to be out for more than a second. The plant room was filled with blaster smoke that wasn’t clearing as the Feeorin raiders had disabled the outtake vents to get inside.
Dusty grey smoke lit with greens and blues, occasional mists of red and green from flash boiled blood. They’d beaten back the Weequay, then the Phindian rangers…the Feeorins were too many.
Struggling up he hefted the heavy rifle once more seeking a target in the dark air, about to call for Xoar to take the column to his left…Xoar wasn’t there.
“Hurricane’s falling back to third line!” the comm crackled
“Magma is on second line, Rodian and Gammorreans hitting us hard,” Komo added
“Ice is getting thawed!” Trill commed back
Mmbri assessed the situation, the Feeorins were ferocious close up…there was no choice…
“Ice fall back!” he grunted, instantly the squad flew from cover, blind firing into the electric storm of deadly bolts, a Sullustan in front of him took a hit in the back,
Sorry brother, he thought as he stepped on his legs to get to the stair well.
<<<<>>>>
Komo
“UNNGHHH” he grunted through a broken tusk as he swung the metal beam round to smash into the gammoreans face. Another to his left was pulled up short from bisecting him by two Chandra’fan who leapt onto its back peppering it with their knives.
A third of his squad had been lost, it sounded like the others weren’t doing much better.
In a tragic display to his right Reeger shoved an industrial nail gun into a fellow Rodains chest, three phwumps pumped durasteel bolts through the chest plate. Even with what Hondo had done to him…there was a sickening feel to members of the same race killing each other over the desire to be free. It had pained him to see Jarys unleashed on the Aqualish at Hondo’s palace more than he had expected…
It was only partial consolation to be on the right side of the Daemons when your people stood in their path…
Pulling his blaster he managed to hit another Rodians shoulder
“Magma falling back to Third Line” he grunted.
<<<<>>>>
Keison
“Tornado falling back to Third Line”
The pressure kept rising, more and more were getting into the station. Defence in depth was the plan – another twenty troops at each of four fall back lines left him with 38 men, having lost 22. They were running out of traps, power cells and improvised explosives….and still they kept coming…the raiders and bounty hunters completely indifferent to the bloody dead they trod over.
“All units on Third line, confirm,” Jarys voice clinical and focused
Keison couldn’t be so indifferent, he had taken losses, sacrificed soldiers - lots of them…but this time was different, this was
all the Sons had left. He had agreed this was the best plan given the situation…but he felt this loss more keenly than ever before.
“Confirm!” he called back huddled behind quickly positioned crates in a store room, the floor littered with bolts and nuts after they had dropped a crate full of them onto a crew of Weequay, one of the arms poking out still twitching.
“Vorynx, Brute, Extolled, Gobril move to second phase.”
For the first time in his life Keison felt pity for those who fought him - his task was done, they’d lured the enemy as far down the Road to Hell as they could
Now…Now the gate of Hell opened and the Daemons would be unleashed.
<<<<>>>>