Schisms: The Vhal'Dan Civil War

[Taegin Roan]

Indeed. (Sorry, I just had to start my reply with that) This was a great chapter. Fast-paced, well-defined action, but not over the top. I'm not sure I'm okay with Kazic not wanting to feel remorse, but then again, his species is kind of like that already. But like Karm and LSG have touched on, I think the mercy that was shown by Saani will come in to play later.

[TheDutchman]

Indeed. (Sorry, I just had to start my reply with that) This was a great chapter. Fast-paced, well-defined action, but not over the top. I'm not sure I'm okay with Kazic not wanting to feel remorse, but then again, his species is kind of like that already. But like Karm and LSG have touched on, I think the mercy that was shown by Saani will come in to play later.

Indeed.

 

TR: EXCELLENT character study of Kazic.  Don't want to say too much more but: bravo!

[TheDutchman]

A Brief Intermezzo, Part II

“…even though the Pretiosum Kyber Mines hadn’t been completely destroyed, Saani’s quick thinking had effectively shut them down, denying Anson full access.  True, he was able to recover some crystals…but the lattices where the deep veins ran…well, those would require a full team of engineers, earthworks, and equipment that he had neither the time nor access to.  At least not at that time…”  Kazic’s voice was interrupted by a coughing fit that D’Aylanna tried to mitigate with her Healing.

“…Master Kazic…but what about the rest of the populace, especially within Vhal’Uhladv?”  D’Aylanna’s gentle voice mirrored her soft touch, her dark eyes concerned for the Anzati Master.  “Surely there would be many engineers among them?”

For a moment Kazic’s red eyes lost focus, immersed within a past that haunted him.  “Oh yes…the population of Vhal’Uhladv numbered over four million alone.  Poor souls…”  For a long while he fell silent until, finally, D’Aylanna recalled him.

“Kazic?  Kazic!”  Suddenly he turned to her, his face drawn but his eyes clear.

“…We—that is, Anson and I—had…had an unspoken rule: ‘Do not involve the civilians in our affairs.’  If only…”  Again, he coughed, only this time briefly.  When Kazic had collected himself again, he continued.  “…For a time…there were no civilian casualties, no collateral damage.”  Another tear escaped his eye, slowly rolling down his wrinkled gray skin.  “…But within half a year, that had changed.  Neither Anson nor I knew which side was responsible, but during one of the many skirmishes between his faction and mine…we…there… There was a…full-scale Force battle in the heart of the city, the urban sector adjacent to the Stryka Annix Botanical Gardens: the Promenade it was called.”  He sighed.  “…To this day…I don’t know exactly what happened.  But…the resultant deaths were no less real…or haunting…”

Again, Kazic’s voice trailed off, his eyes staring deep into the past.  “…There was…a terrible series of events leading up to the ‘Promenade Incident.’”  Kazic’s face changed, his body shaking, this time in laughter, self-deprecating, sardonic laughter.  “‘Promenade Incident.’  As if…making it sound so…clinical…detached…could mask the brutality of the day.”  As his eyes focused on D’Aylanna’s, Kazic suddenly became deathly serious.  “I still don’t know exactly what happened but…someone did something that ignited an intense fire, one that quickly burned through the grasslands of the Grounds, spreading in no time to several of the standing buildings and structures surrounding the Grounds.  Well, this weakened not only the structures themselves but… But then the fire reached the district's repulsor generators.  And—even as the battle raged—the entire Promenade Sector began to collapse, several buildings initially…”  Silently, tears began to fall across his sunken cheeks.

“…And the people living, working there?”  D’Aylanna asked although she’d already guessed.

Nodding, Kazic confirmed the awful truth.  “Once the repulsors were compromised, it was only a matter of time before the entire district collapsed.  And a short time at that…”  The last he whispered.  “It was a tragedy and a debacle of the worst kind.  Thousands died…tens of thousands…  Of course, Anson and I both blamed the other…but we were both to blame, regardless whose Jedi actually caused it.  Maker knows that I should’ve been punished…”  Again, Kazic’s smile was contemptuous, his laughter derisory.  “…How appropriate that I was…”

D’Aylanna pursed her blue lips, her curiosity still unanswered.  But before she could press, Kazic began speaking again.

“…We…‘suggested’ that the remaining civilians leave the city proper, abandon Vhal’Uhladv altogether.  Most did.  Some stayed.  Even fewer…joined, either Anson or myself…”  He closed his eyes.  “…But even with those volunteers, Anson’s faction outnumbered mine, almost three to one.  But…I was able to make do…”  Kazic shook his head, spitting.  “‘Make do.’  I never fought against him directly, always in precision strikes, flanking maneuvers, surprise attacks… I simply did not have the numbers.  So I used every other advantage I had, namely that I’d seen many more wars than Anson.  And, tactically, I could out-think him.  Tried to keep him guessing.  Guerilla tactics.  Whenever he thought I was going after ‘Aurek’ I would head towards ‘Besh.’  Always doing the unexpected…”  Another coughing fit interrupted him, this time doubling Kazic over.  Spitting loudly, D’Aylanna could see that the spittle was mostly blood.

“Master Kazic…what happened?”  Her smooth olive skin reflected the soft light of the room as she sat next to the Anzati Master’s medcouch.

Gathering himself, Kazic continued.  “…Reality.  Anson knew—just as I did—that in any war of attrition, he had the advantage.  He could afford to lose people; I couldn’t.  It was as simple as that.  And, for all of the successes that my tactics had won me, he still had thousands more than I did.”  Kazic’s head dropped, his face fallen and despondent.  “…Soon to have several hundred more…”  Even though he said it quietly, D’Aylanna heard him.

“‘Several hundred more?’  What do you mean, Kazic?”  But, again, D’Aylanna already had an idea.  And as soon as Kazic spoke, she was proven correct.

“…As I said, I was punished for my roll in the Promenade Incident.  For that, I willingly take responsibility.  But…”  Again, his voice became a whisper.  “…it was not I that was to bear the yoke of said punishment…”  If he had cried softly earlier, Kazic now sobbed.  “…How many had to die as a result of my blindness?  My hubris?  My stupidity?”  D’Aylanna quietly stroked his brow, silently allowing him his self-reproach.  Slowly, his sobbing subsided and he continued.  “…As I said before, tens of thousands had been killed in the collapse of the Promenade.  But not once had I thought about whom that may affect… Maker damn me for the fool that I was…”  This time he was silent for a very long time.  When next he spoke, he startled D’Aylanna.

“…I had decided to commit the majority of my forces against Anson in what I felt—knew—was a decisive offensive.  He would not be expecting such a commitment nor would know of my true aims… Or so I had thought.  As I said: I was a fool…”

D’Aylanna said nothing, knowing that Kazic’s self-condemnation was all-consuming.  And, as he continued, it was as bad as she’d feared; worse, truth be told.

“…Vhal’Uhladv was now an open-theater for us to war upon each other.  And I intended to take advantage of that fact.  First, I had a sufficiently strong force attack Anson’s Jedi with a feint at the Crystal Processing Station in the Underworks…”  Staring straight ahead, his eyes could see the plans as clear as the day that they’d been made.  “But the real objective and the one that the main assault group converged upon were the Food Storage Silos.  With those in my possession, I knew that I could use them as either ‘carrot or stick’ for Anson’s army: ‘Join me, surrender, or starve.’  And my Jedi were ready…”

D’Aylanna’s face was full of her concern and she hurt for Kazic, especially since she thought she could almost fill in the details of Kazic’s disastrous attack.

“…Corvus and Jorol were leading our decoy forces while Saani, El’kar, and myself lead the main assault…”

[Karmack]

Here we go.    Marching north to Gettysburg...  :-(

[Lord_S_Gray]

That's an interesting point to have an 'intermezzo', especially given the importance of this Promenade incident i'd have though it would be a chapter of its own, like from the POV of the 'boots on the ground'...but to the extent that you want to keep it an event lost int he mess of a civil war i can understand that.  Seems Kazic is reaching a point where his confession is becoming much more painful and personal...

[Karmack]

Yeah, I liked the effect.  I suspect we're still going to get the nuts and bolts of what happened, but the Intermezzo sets it up, resets our frame and re-focuses the story at this next critical juncture.  Its a nice effect. 

[TheDutchman]

Chapter 17: Day of Counted Sorrows, Part I

Kazic stood tall in front of the holoprojection, his arms folded as he slowly stroked his black goatee.  His discerning red eyes kept staring at the schematics, looking, searching, divining…or at least attempting to do the last, if he could.  And for what was the hundredth time, he played all possibilities in his mind, everything that his experiences could anticipate, and trying to predict what Anson would do…

“K’ompo, you’ve done all that you can.  And you’ve planned for every contingency thinkable.”  Saani’s quiet voice came from behind him, making the crowded room shrink away until it seemed that it was only his wife and himself.  It was a pleasant fiction…and one that he simply didn’t have time to entertain.  Still: he smiled appreciatively, their bond in the Force connecting, surrounding, and flowing through them.  Breathing a sigh, he turned his head and returned to the scene at hand.

Surrounding the holoprojection were his primary captains: Saani, El’kar, and Master Gray Candurous Eriston, a powerful Sullustan Jedi and one of the key strategists for Kazic’s army.  He was one of the rare Sullustan males belonging to several Warren-clans, testament to his strength in the Force.  This made him a rather lucrative commodity to the “Fems” of his species and a highly attractive mate.  So it was that, standing behind him were over half-dozen of his offspring, Warren-siblings all, or “Lequana” as they were known.  One and all, they were competent Force-users.

[The Arbiter is correct, my Kage].  He said in Sullustese.  [Our forces are standing at the ready, awaiting your command].  The short master looked…ready.  Thumbs tucked into his belt, his lightsabers were in easy reach about his armor.  He was about to say something else when a short, young, blonde woman stepped forward from the gathered crowd.

“Excuse me Kage, but I wanted to make a request…if I may…” Her long hair was tied into a tight ball, her slender armor a variant of Kazic’s, her Master.

“Koawan Fayar?”  His former apprentice was staid and stoic, a stark contrast from her gregarious attitude as a teidowan.  He noticed the dark circles under her eyes.  He could empathize; he’d had little enough sleep since this war began… “What is it, Kasah?”  

“Mas—I mean, Kage…I would like ask for the honor of leading the vanguard on the Silos…”  She fidgeted with her lightsaber unconsciously, running her gloved hand across her head.  “…Please, Master?”  Her eyes were clear, if tight.

Kazic was amazed at the young woman.  She’d been elevated to Gray Knight and then koawan subsequently with the militarization of the Vhal’Dan and afterwards, yet not once had she accepted Anson’s way of thinking as acceptable, much less superior.  She’d remained close to Kazic during all of that time; as such, he’d seen her become a strong Gray Jedi and a more-than-capable commander.  Unfortunately, she’d also become much more serious, moreso even recently.  Still, she was one of his staunchest supporters and he thought, an adequate if not outstanding leader.

“Of course, Kasah.”  He said gently, going so far as to rest a hand upon her shoulder.  “You’ll have command of the vanguard.  Masters El’kar and Candurous will supplement with their own forces, forming a pincer, flanking Anson’s Jedi while lending support.  I know that you’ll do well, Kasah.”  He smiled down at the short human.  “May the Force be with you.”  He said softly.  She upturned her lips but seemed distracted.  Not that he could blame her; hers was the most dangerous position.

But he trusted her and knew what she was capable of.  She was still standing in front of him when he noticed the determined set to her face, a question in her eyes.  “Kage…one of my eldest friends, Maenowan Dal’Haril M’Antisa, wanted to ask you for the honor of protecting your person.  He’s…shy and was worried since he doesn’t know you well that he’d…”  Her voice trailed off.  Kazic nodded his head, understanding.  

He’d heard the name before: Dal’Haril M’Antisa was a rare Caamasi Gray Jedi, one that had maintained a strict pacifist position.  He’d sided against Anson in every single vote.  …And Kasah vouched for him… He smiled.  “Of course, Kasah.  I’d be honored.”  He almost laughed.  …And just how much “protection” can a pacifist give me…?  But Kasah had asked… Looking up, he saw that she had turned to leave.  Rubbing his head against the migraine that threatened to distract him, he thought about what next was needed.  As Kasah Fayar disappeared from sight, Kazic gave commands to everyone else in the room, delegating what he knew he could whilst readying himself for the conflict ahead.

…Strange…usually the daen nosi would have appeared by now… He thought.  But…perhaps that portended well.  Regardless, this offensive would require his full attention.  But with that in mind…well, he’d learned to trust his instincts.  Without calling attention to the fact, he surreptitiously positioned himself by his wife but also away from all others.

“…Saani, take a contingent of snipers, sentinels, guardians, and shadows; I want you on overwatch just in case…”  He quietly told her, his voice almost silent so as only to be heard by Saani’s ears alone.

“…What is it K’ompo?”  While she kept her face expressionless, Kazic heard the concern in her voice.

“…Probably nothing but my own paranoia…but keep your movements secret.  Have the shadows take up concealed forward positions and find the best vantage you can just in case…”  Nodding her head, Saani clandestinely gathered those Jedi and operators that she knew that she could trust with their discretion.

Meanwhile, Kazic turned back to the holofeeds, intent on the three-pronged attack that should surprise Anson’s guards.  Too late for much else; his forces were committed.  As one, all eyes in the bivouac turned towards him, anticipatory.  Without so much as blinking, Kazic intoned a single word, his mind having moved on from Kasah and Saani.

“Proceed.”

            <<<<< >>>>>

Everything was in place.  Corvus and Jorol’s assault force was by this time attacking the Crystal Processing Plant.  Even as Kazic kept watch from his bivouac, numerous holoprojections relaying real-time images, he saw that Anson had already pulled three over-strength battalions from their original positions along the Vhal’Uhladv perimeter, specifically the East Quadrant.  …Perfect…  Kazic thought.  That left the Food Silos under the protection of the two remaining battalions.

For which his small army was more than a match for.  He wondered if he could take the majority of them alive; he’d accepted that in war people died but that didn’t mean that he had to like it nor that he shouldn’t do something to help allay the loss of life.  He suddenly smirked.  Still, if it came down to the choice, he would always choose his people over Anson’s.

He checked his chronometer.  …30 seconds…  His eyes scrutinized the half-dozen holoprojections.  …Stop worrying; I’m sure that the daen nosi would warn me…  He took comfort in that thought.

He would later rebuke himself for such ad hominem thinking.

Keying the main frequency for comms, he quietly spoke.  “On my command, engage.”  Again, he said a silent prayer; uneasy as he felt he had no right to do so.  “Execute.”

Within seconds, the Jedi under Koawan Kasah’s command hit all of the bored guards.  Quickly advancing over the compromised line, the Vhal’Dan commandos were as silent as they were efficient.  In under a minute, Kazic’s forces were swarming over the Silo grounds, Anson’s guards either unconscious or dead.  And while they had yet to penetrate further into the facility proper, their early success had buoyed their spirits.  Confident, Kasah’s group followed her as she took them further and further into the structure.  There were exposed pipes, conduits, and condensation lining the entire passageway.  The lamps became more sporadic as they infiltrated further in.

Kazic kept an observant gaze on the other holofeeds showing the progress of Corvus’ and Jorol’s forces.  The fighting was brutal; both armies close enough to engage in hand-to-hand.  Hundreds of lightsabers played across the ‘feed, much of the detail lost in the chaos of the skirmishes.  He knew that he could trust Corvus and Jorol to do what was needed…but he still had a nagging feeling.  And still the daen nosi had not appeared…

Something caught Kazic’s eye, something seemingly innocuous.  Focusing his attention fully upon the main ‘feed, he saw Kasah’s forces enter into an unlit tunnel.  …That’s not right… He was already keyed into Kasah’s frequency when he pinged her comms.  “Kasah…you are proceeding down an unlit passageway; please explain.  The Silos’ Control Room is perpendicular to your position.  How copy?”

He was met with silence.  …That’s not right… He thought.  Perhaps Kasah’s comms were being jammed…?  …But if that were the case, then why was the holofeed unaffected?  Something made him contact Saani.  “Saani?  What’s your position?” He said quietly.

After a second, Saani’s voice came back over comms, a clear and strong connection but her voice was subdued.  “Overwatch, main junction; shadows on recon.  No one saw us and we’re awaiting Kasah’s confirmation of ‘vornskr.’”  “Vornskr” was the codeword for securing the Control Center.  “…What’s wrong, Kazic?”  

Kazic couldn’t think clearly.  “…Saani, I…I’m not certain…”  Was something wrong?  Or was he just being paranoid?  Staring at the main holofeed, he thought that he saw movement around the perimeter by where El’kar’s forces were located.  …That’s not right… He thoug—

Inhaling, he finally focused on the here and now.  …Not thinking clearly, repeating myself, this…unease…I…I think I’m under the effects of Force Suppression…!  Quickly going through a meditative cleansing technique, he refocused his senses.  Even then, he felt as if his head were underwater.  That shocked him; he knew his own mental abilities were amongst the strongest…well, short of Ari’s People… Inhaling slowly, he made himself concentrate, using all of his willpower…

And felt it: a potent inundation of Force Suppression.  …But…how…?  He knew that for him to feel the effects this bad, the person must be…close.  And very powerful.  Without calling attention to himself, he casually looked around, all of his senses alert, the Force flowing from him.  And as he fought to clear his head, he thought that he could almost see the faint outlines of the daen nosi…

…there…

Yes…he could now just make it out.  There they were, pulsing almost violently, coiling around themselves, leading directly to…

Kazic blinked.  …no…NO…Dammit, NO…!  Now that he knew what to look for, he could clearly see the daen nosi as they made an undeviating connection from him to…

Maenowan Dal’Haril M’Antisa.

The Caamasi looked impassive, unconcerned…blank.  By all outward appearances, he was completely expressionless.  But Kazic had studied on Caamas; more importantly, he knew Caamasi behavior.  And the Caamasi Master’s non-emotional attitude was flashing sign of anxiety.  Slowly, nonchalantly Kazic made his way towards Dal’Haril.  “Company commanders, sitrep* ASAP.  How copy?”  He kept his attention on the ‘feeds, seemingly engrossed.  He took another step closer to the Caamasi.

And with another step, the daen nosi disappeared again.  Kazic had to fight the lethargy that he was being buried under.  It took all of his concentration just to maintain his calm visage so as not to arouse any suspicions.  …Two more meters… And as the responses from the Company commanders came back over comms, he took the final step towards Dal’Haril.

The Caamasi turned his head, the blank look in his eyes suddenly changed.  And for the first time in his long life, Kazic saw something that he never would have expected: the Caamasi’s face contorted in hatred.  Simultaneously, his hands moved to the voluminous sleeves of his gray robes, removing the hidden lightsabers that he’d secreted in concealed pockets.  Igniting both blades—one green, the other teal—he lunged at Kazic.

Still fighting off the effects of the Force Suppression, Kazic’s reflexes were slow.  And while he barely got his own lightsaber out, the blue blade just intercepting Dal’Haril’s green, the Caamasi’s teal blade burned into Kazic’s left pauldron.  The armor withstood the plasma blade for a few seconds before it shattered but it gave the Anzati Master those precious seconds to recover, if not entirely.  Still, the teal blade burned his shoulder after destroying the pauldron.  Thankfully, the cut was neither deep nor debilitating.

Snarling, the Caamasi wordlessly attacked, his two sabers hammering at Kazic’s defenses, trying to press advantage while the Anzat Kage was still preoccupied.  Again, Kazic was too slow to avoid the sudden, powerful kick that knocked him back, crashing into several storage crates.

Acting entirely by instinct, he sent several of the crates that had fallen upon him flying through the air towards Dal’Haril.  With an almost contemptuous wave of his hand, the Caamasi diverted the incoming impromptu missiles, using them as an obstruction between himself and Kazic and any of the other Gray Jedi that were attempting to come to the Anzati Kage’s aid.

Kazic kicked himself up, lightsaber at the ready.  At least he was no longer floundering under the affects of Force Suppression.  But then he was overwhelmed by the Caamasi’s incoming mental attack.  

Even as he shook his head to fight off the assault, he felt the invasive metaphysical bombardment that overpowered his mental defenses.  His lightsaber dropped unremembered to the floor.  And suddenly, it was the night that Ari’s People had came…

Once again, he was fighting—losing—against Kiraea.  Every trick he’d learned, every iota of training that he recalled, every skill and power that he possessed…it was nothing.

Less than nothing.  And even as she toyed with him, he knew that he was close to losing control… And he knew that if that happened…his regret would be eternal.  But…it spoke to him, beckoned to him, both enticing and revolting.

The soup.

And even as the mindless…thing that Kazic had become, there was a miniscule part of him that was aware.  And horrified.  And there was nothing that he could do to stop himself…

Very far away, a small lone whisper of a voice shouted at him.  And just as he had with the daen nosi, he slowly, ever so slowly attempted to find his center again.

…Saani…

Almost infinitesimally, his consciousness was…shunted forward.  Focusing his eyes, the scene before him coalesced slowly into being.  Time seemed meaningless.  Brief, crystal clarity filled his perceptions.  Innocuous, almost mundane minutiae were thrust foremost within his awareness…

…the holofeed images kept digitizing, their connection imperfect the result of covert jamming…

…the light from the bivouac entrance was obfuscated, thanks to all of the detritus blocking it…

…the smell of burnt flesh was pungent to his nose, his flared nostrils even more sensitive than normal…

…the green-white and teal-white glows from Dal’Haril’s lightsabers cast a sickly hue across everything, including the blood flowing from his head where he’d been hit by one of the containers, turning it black…

…the heat from the blades seemed especially potent…or maybe it was just the burn on his shoulder that he felt…

… Dal’Haril brought the lightsaber in his right hand up, the blade dropping in a powerful overhand chop…

With vivid abruptness, time returned to normal, everything around Kazic flowing as if they needed to catch up.  And, once again, Kazic reacted instinctually.  Calling forth his dropped lightsaber, Kazic sent the saber flying at the Caamasi.  Even unignited, the dense metal hilt was a potent ballistic weapon, crashing into the Caamasi’s forehead, momentarily stunning him.  Adjusting the trajectory, Kazic activated the blade as it scythed around, the plasma blade arcing through the air and through Dal’Haril’s neck.  Headless, the Caamasi’s body fell to its knees, losing the grip on both lightsabers.  Falling from lifeless hands, both hilts deactivated, closing down the weapons as they fell to the floor unceremoniously.  

Breathing heavily, Kazic rose to his feet on unsteady legs.  By the time that the rest of his Jedi had rejoined him, the Anzat had regained most of his composure.  As concerned questions came from all sides, Kazic focused his eyes upon the main ‘feed, mostly ignoring the questions.

Even as he was clearing his head, he could deduce what was happening.  Reaching the main databank, Kazic pinged his wife’s comms.  “…Saani.  I need for you to set up multiple sniper nests.  If you see any enemy contingent, terminate with extreme prejudice.  Keep an eye out for Kasah’s squad but for her specifically; there’s some…things I need to know from her.”  He switched to the main frequency.  “Masters El’kar and Candurous, pull back immediately.  Watch for traps as you do so, especially on your flanks.”

* sitrep: situation report

[TheDutchman]

Chapter 17: Day of Counted Sorrows, Part II

No sooner had he received acknowledgements then Master Candurous’ voice erupted over the comms.  [Kage!  We’re under attack!  They were hiding behind us!  Numbers indicate an over-strength brigade].

Kazic rubbed his head with his hand.  “Candurous, prepare to pull out of your position; you’ve been compromised.  I want you to punch out of there, link up with Master El’kar, keep it tight, exfil at designation ‘Gornalak.’  How copy?”  His head was clearing but he still felt as if he’d fought a gundark.  And lost.

[Solid copy, Kage.  See you at the FOB*].  Even before the Sullustan had broken contact, Kazic was scrutinizing the collective holofeeds.  He saw that Candurous’ cohort was retreating in good order, his flank holding against Anson’s army.  Saani’s “target acquisitions” squad was providing cover fire as Candurous’ forces pulled back.  And El’kar…

El’kar had been cut off, caught in a pincer.  …How in the hell…? Kazic wondered.  Looking closely, he could see a large contingent of Anson’s Jedi pressing hard on El’kar’s left flank; already he could see that Anson’s forces were attempting a double envelopment.  “El’kar.  El’kar!”  Kazic tried to raise them on comms but met with only static.  Which probably meant that comms were being jammed.  And with so many buildings surrounding the Silos, trying to find the electronic countermeasures would be akin to finding open water in a Tatooine desert.  Instead, he pinged Saani’s comms again.  “Saani, I need you to divert some shadows to flank El’kar’s position and pull a couple of fire teams off of your main contingent and give me some fire discipline to help El’kar.  If you concentrate on the...southern line—soften them up a bit—then you can help him…”

As he continued to give orders, Kazic kept an eye on the ‘feeds, seeing the results of Saani’s help.  Unfortunately, El’kar’s position was in danger of being overrun, Anson’s Jedi having been reinforced…by Kasah’s contingent he now saw.  …Well…now I have the confirmation that I’d wanted… The burning betrayal that he felt in the pit of his stomach was fierce but he smothered it.  He needed his faculties about him, all of them…and anger would only cloud his better judgment.  

But if Kasah had gone over to Anson then he must know all of Kazic’s tactics for the day.  Even as he thought this, he saw the inexorable tide of Anson’s Jedi finally overwhelm El’kar’s position despite Saani’s assistance.  There were just too many of them.  

Looking at one of the other ‘feeds, Kazic saw that Candurous’ contingent was able to make a retreat, thankfully having lost less than a quarter of their numbers.  …Still too many… Yes, he’d prevented a complete rout…but his people were still losing, and badly.

“…Saani, Candurous, El’kar…all commanders…full retreat.  Pull back to ‘Gornalak’ for exfil.  Air support inbound with weapons hot.  Repeat: air support inbound with weapons hot.”  

Amidst the chaos of battle, Kazic scrutinized the multiple encounters.  Reports from Corvus and Jorol’s attack force at the Crystal Processing Plant had finally broke through the jamming: heavy causalities had resulted as they’d encountered five times the numbers than previous intelligence had reported.

“They dinna showed themselv’s ‘ntil we were surround’d.  Th’y ken ‘xactly how m’ny ‘f us and our tact’cs.”  Corvus’ rage was evident, even with the poor holofeed.  “Kage…we we’re b’trayed.”  The Devaronian’s visage looked like a devil from myth, blood running from his mouth.  Jorol looked worse.

“Kage, we’re in a holding pattern but we need to break out and soon.”  Kazic’s face was completely stoic.  Then, slowly he nodded.

“Corvus, Jorol.  Retreat.  Keep your withdrawal under the cover of your heavy repeaters as much as possible and save as many as your people as possible.  If I had the resources, I’d send them to you.  But…you may now consider this confirmation of ‘Mortis.’  Confirm, please.”  Kazic’s face was impassive but he felt anything but calm.  …Dammit... He hoped beyond hope that as many of his people were able to retreat.  But the pragmatist in him knew that the butcher’s bill was going to be much higher today than he’d ever expected.  Even standing rigid in the bivouac, Kazic kept his demeanor approachable, confident, and in control.  What he felt was another matter entirely.  Loss, turmoil, but mostly pure, unbridled rage.  He’d been betrayed by one whom he’d trusted, one whom he’d committed to the linchpin of his strategy.  And she had betrayed him, her friends, and comrades.

…Betrayed…

            <<<<< >>>>>

As casualty reports kept coming in, so too did other information.

Corvus and Jorol were able to escape, retreating back to the FOB.  But only half of their contingent had returned.

Candurous fared the best, losing only about a quarter of his force.  They were the first to return.

But El’kar’s company was in shambles, El’kar himself was at death’s door, missing half his face, his right arm and leg.  As such, the short Gray Master was clinging to life, floating in a bacta-tank.  When Kazic tallied a mental count, the fire in the pit of his stomach threatened to flare even hotter.  Of El’kar’s numbers, only one in five had returned.

And Kazic hadn’t even counted the wounded yet…

“K’ompo…this is not your fault.”  Saani’s quiet voice tried to reassure him.  She’d only lost two and had kept several hundred more from being overrun by Anson’s reinforcements but she still felt as if she could have done more.  Nothing could have been further from the truth and Kazic recognized that fact, especially as his wife desperately fought exhaustion.  …By the Maker, I love her…  His brief thought helped to buoyed his spirits.  Somewhat.  “K’ompo.”  The serious intensity in Saani’s voice immediately caught his attention.

“…What is it, Kanp’a?”  Even though no one was near them in the bivouac, he lowered his voice.  Standing next to his wife, he put his forehead upon hers, calmly embracing and finding comfort, support, and love within each other’s arms.  But Kazic knew that it was all too ephemeral.  “What do you need to tell me?”

Saani looked up into her husband’s red eyes, showing anger for the first time.  “…One of the shadows was able to catch her, alive.”  And now that Kazic was really focused on his wife, he could sense her unbridled rage, closely and carefully controlled under the surface.  “I have her under guard.”

Walking briskly from the bivouac, Kazic and Saani were soon joined by all remaining captains: Corvus, Jorol, and Candurous and a contingent of sentinels.  Everyone in camp had heard of the assassination attempt on Kazic’s life.  …As if morale wasn’t already low enough… He thought.

Saani pulled up short of the camp brig, instead taking the small party on a slight detour, finally stopping in front of one of the many unremarkable mobile storage units.  Keying open the door using an exorbitant number of biometric locks, the unit admitted them inside, the door almost closing on their heels.  While most of them needed to allow their eyes to adjust to the lower illumination, Kazic’s infravision took over almost immediately.  It was for this reason that he noticed her first.

Koawan Kasah Fayar was shackled on her knees, binders connecting both wrists and ankles to one another.  She’d been hastily fitted by a Force-inhibiting collar which went from the bottom of her throat to right under her jaw.  Blood dripped from her mouth, nose, and ears while the left side of her face including her eye was swollen almost completely shut.  Kazic did not once let the anger and contempt that he felt show upon his face.  By the time the rest of their eyes had adjusted, Kazic had moved to stand in front of her.

“…Why?”  Came the Anzati Kage’s quiet question?  Even with his arms hanging at his side, Kazic looked intimidating, red eyes hard and unforgiving.  Behind him, Saani’s own face looked disappointed.

Slowly raising her head, Kasah looked detestably at Kazic.  “…You don’t even know?”  Her smile turned sardonic.  “…Of course you don’t.  If it isn’t against you or your whore wife, you don’t even care.”  Spitting blood, Kasah laughed, or at least tried.  It quickly turned to a coughing fit with more bloody spittle.

Kazic said nothing, staring at his former apprentice.  Slowly inhaling, he kneeled down to look face-to-face with Kasah, his voice low, penetrating.  “Tell me.  Or I’ll pull the knowledge from your mind, leaving you lobotomized in the process.”  For the first time since he’d seen her, Kasah looked fearful.  But it was soon replaced with anger and, when her eyes looked into Kazic’s, hate.

“…You never once thought to protect the people of your city…”  When Kazic didn’t speak, Kasah rolled her eyes, sighing exasperatedly.  “…The Promenade Incident.  You never once went there, never once thought to see what you could do?”

Kazic was taken aback.  “Kasah…what are you talking about?  I sent Civil Relief Aid as soon as I learned of it.”  The small woman’s laugh was disdainful.

“…Oh yes, you took the path of least resistance, never one to lower yourself from your ‘throne on high.’  What did you do afterwards?  NOTHING!  Not once to check up on those who were injured, those who’d died, those who’d lost…family.”  Kasah’s head dropped or at least as much as the damper-collar would allow, quiet tears falling from her eyes.  “…You never once thought to ask those who follow you about their loss…”

Kazic could guess but Kasah shouted before he could respond.  “…My PARENTS died!  They died believing in you!  And you betrayed them!  You betrayed us!”  And then, quietly.  “You betrayed me…”  More tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I am so sorry for your parents’ deaths.  I commiserate with you—with all of my fellow Vhal’Dan—where every single death is a tragedy… And I know that this doesn’t help, but winning this war takes precedence.  Know that my absence was not indicative of any lack of empathy.  Kasah…each death—even those on Anson’s side—weighs upon me, more than I can tell you.  You know of the hurt and loss of your parents.  Imagine that…but a hundred…a thousand times worse.  That is my burden to bear.”  Kazic’s face softened.  “You’ll never know how sorry that I am…for you, for them, for everyone who has lost something and someone in the name of this war…”  Kasah’s eyes met his, her gaze intense and direct.

And she spit directly in Kazic’s face, laughing almost savagely.  “Spare me your empty platitudes, for that’s ALL that they are…petty words.  You’ll never know what any of us have lost… Except maybe as a tactical deficit.  Mine is not the only grievance—”  Her smile became predatory.  “—and you will soon find that over two hundred of your Jedi have had enough of your lies and despotism.  They follow a true leader now: Anson.”  The last sentence was spoken triumphantly.  Had Kasah not been in binders, she would have stood tall, confident, and righteous.  

Kazic said nothing, even as he stood.  His face completely impassive, when he spoke, his voice mirrored his visage.  “…I could tell you everything that I have done in response to everything: from the Promenade Incident to the destruction of the Intrepid.”  That last had been in a report that had come in just prior to his leaving the bivouac.  “But you are not listening.  Your grief has blinded you to anything else.  And it is your treachery that cost thousands of lives on the Intrepid…those are your responsibility.”  Kazic’s voice quieted.  “I am truly sorry…but it would not matter to you…to those who have no doubt defected to Anson… And like them Kasah, you’ve made your choice.  And for that, too, I am sorry.  Not for your choice, but for the consequence that your actions have forced upon me.”  Without blinking, Kazic ignited his lightsaber.  No one moved to stop him, no one spoke up in defense of Kasah.  “Kasah Fayar, you are guilty of treason.  May the Maker have mercy upon you.”  Bringing up his lightsaber above his head, Kazic paused for a moment.  “Have you anything to say?”  Kazic’s voice was quiet and without anger.

Kasah looked unafraid.  “Go to hell, you kriffing frellik.”  She punctuated the last word by spitting at Kazic.  An instant later, Kazic’s blade fell, separating Kasah’s head from her body.  The Anzati Kage was already walking out of the storage compartment as the koawan’s body fell to the ground, his hopes as dead as his former apprentice…and friend.

* FOB: forward operating base

[TheDutchman]

Chapter 17: Day of Counted Sorrows, Part III

In the darkness of midnight, Kazic sat in the Atrium of the Kage’s Suite, Vhal’Uhladv shining beneath him, the light constant, illuminating, comforting.  And to him, a complete lie.  Within reach was a gift given to him from the former occupant: Arkady’s favorite Corellian whiskey, 50 years distilled.  Saani was asleep in their shared bed, having exhaustedly done so only at her husband’s gentle urgings.  She had saved so many of their people, saved him.

Yet he’d lost so much.  Almost half of his Jedi had either died or absconded to Anson, to say nothing of his support personnel.  He’d lost almost 2/3rds of his orbital fleet as a result of Kasah’s treachery.  And three minutes hence he’d gotten word that El’kar had succumbed to his wounds.  Anson’s numeric superiority was now an overwhelming advantage that Kazic knew his own tactical skill could not defeat, not anymore.  He tried to keep his spirits up, thinking of the fact that it could have been worse.

And summarily failed.

Despite her betrayal, Kasah’s death also weighed heavily upon his shoulders.  She had been his first apprentice in over 40 years, the promise of her potential soon overshadowed by the rapport and friendship that he’d developed with her.  …She was right…I did fail her…I failed them all…

All of those deaths…all of the betrayal…all of the lost.

…But not Ari…

The thought shocked him, making him sit rigidly upright.  Maybe it was thinking about Kasah—another “adoptive daughter”—but all that Kazic could focus on was his “real” daughter, Aresaea.  Smiling, he momentarily allowed himself to think about the wonderful times with his wife and daughter…the only time that his family had felt wholly complete.  The beautiful smile on Saani’s face, in her purple eyes, her aura in the Force.  The inquisitive girl with the red hair, her aqua eyes belying her youth…growing into the strong, wise, wonderful young woman… He didn’t care that she was not of his blood, his race, his People.

Kazic smiled cynically.  There really was no “Anzati People.”  By and large, he was a stranger in a strange land, having grown up hearing the stories of the galaxy’s underworld, or of some planetary myths perpetuated by a fearful populace concerning the “Anzati monster.”  He was alone, a grain of salt amongst the sand.  Thank the Maker for Saani; she’d given him a home, a family.  He smiled, thinking …At least Ari’s People found her, she’ll never know—

Inhaling sharply, a sudden realization consuming his mind.  Ari’s People.  For long minutes, he was lost in thought, the seeds of hope taking root with the promise to banish the darkness of hopelessness and defeat.  Even as he contemplated the possibility…part of him recoiled at the thought.  …If…I do this…there will be no going back… But as the thought echoed in his mind, he realized that he’d already made the decision.  He had to save his People, the Vhal’Dan.  And he knew how to accomplish it.  Getting up, Kazic walked past the now-forgotten bottle of Corellian 50.

Walking into the bedroom, he quietly went to Saani’s adjoining salon room, grabbing the lone item that was incongruous among her toiletries.

Returning to the Atrium, Kazic had one more lingering thorn of doubt as he held up the object that he’d grabbed: a deceptively heavy, incredibly black necklace with a single small dark orb hanging from the black metal chain.  …I…I should have never let so much time go before contacting her…  His lament soaked through him, not only for what he was about to ask but what he knew he must do.

Or at least what he thought he would do.  If he could have gone back in time, he might have raised more than one concern, one trepidation, one doubt to his past self concerning the cost of such.  But Kazic could only see in the here-and-now, and his eyes were full of no other choice, lest he lead his people to defeat.  What could possibly be worse?

…Much… Came the thought, one he mercilessly crushed, his conviction finally one with his mind.  Closing his eyes, he opened himself to the Force and doing…something…he directed the energies into the orb.  Once activated by his initial contact, the orb began drawing in the Force with an almost vociferous appetite.  And as a dark glow began to permeate from the orb, Kazic could see in his mind the face of a youthful, beautiful (but somehow, older and wiser) face he knew to belong to his daughter.  And across lightyears, the sound of her voice echoed in the Kage’s Atrium as if she were in the very room herself.

“…Kazic…?”  He opened his eyes, taking comfort in the melodious voice coming from the spreading smile of Ari, his and Saani’s daughter.

“Ari…Dear One.”  He let out a quiet breath.  “…I…I am so sorry that I haven’t contacted you before now; I…I was afraid to worry you…”  In his mind—right next to him within the room—Ari reached up to stroke his cheek like she’d done as a child.  Putting his hand upon hers—in his mind—he allowed himself to feel the pains of pride, loss, love, and isolation.  Only with Saani and Ari could he do so…and he desperately needed to protect Saani from his despair.

“…What’s wrong…?”  Her piercing eyes searched his—the now familiar joining between his mind and hers—as she sought even now to learn, to comfort.

Slowly inhaling, Kazic opened his eyes while opening his mind.  And in doing so, told Ari everything that had occurred.  The battles.  The fighting.  The betrayals. 

The deaths.

And before Ari could “speak” further, Kazic posited a series of questions, the answers to which were as frightening as the questions themselves.  And as the darkness of night began to give ‘way to the Galtean day, Kazic said his farewells to his daughter, his plans now in motion.

And when Saani finally arose from her empty bed, she lethargically called after her husband, each time unanswered.  Becoming apprehensive, she called louder, opening herself to the Force, searching.  “K’ompo?!”

And softly, both in the Force and echoing through the rooms of the Kage’s Suite, Kazic’s reply came.  “Kanp’a.  In the Atrium.”  As Saani finally entered the bright room, her eyes fell upon her husband, the bottle of Corellian 50 still untouched.  But it was her husband’s eyes that had her concerned most.

“K’ompo?  Are you OK?  What is it?”  Saani sat beside the large Anzat, putting her arms around his waist, resting her head upon his shoulder.  For a moment, Kazic did not answer. 

“…Saani…I…I need to tell you something…”  And as he related to his wife the events of the night, her sense of wonder was balanced by her growing uncertainty.  Holding him closely as he finished, she rocked her husband gently.  And just as gently, he spoke three quiet words.

“They are coming.”

[Lord_S_Gray]

From Zearics interlude...
“…Well, let me remind you of something that your Grandfather Kazic told me: ‘youth and vigor will always lose to age and treachery.’”

This shows exactly where Kazic learnt the truth of this, maybe not precisely but close enough.  This is a true civil war now, no more questioning, no more mercy to their former brethren, treachery, summary executions - the assassination attempt was especially disturbing for a Camaasi... 

And Kazic himself...this bit...

"If he could have gone back in time, he might have raised more than one concern, one trepidation, one doubt to his past self concerning the cost of such.  But Kazic could only see in the here-and-now, and his eyes were full of no other choice, lest he lead his people to defeat.  What could possibly be worse?

…Much… Came the thought, one he mercilessly crushed, his conviction finally one with his mind. "

was the crown jewel i think in part three...he know it can get worse, he knows who he is asking for help...but the betrayal he has just experienced - not Kasah - oh no that's too easy - but the betrayal of his past self and morality- has completely changed how he is seeing the situation.

A chapter as tragic as it was compelling.

[Karmack]

Echoing LSG on this one.  Kazik has reached for the "red button" ... and pushed it.  The Vhal Dan, whom he considers HIS people, are those who follow a certain philosophy.  In this action Kazic takes that final step to seeing Anson and his faction as not true Vhal Dan.  They well and truly became the enemy, not just misguided bretheren.

And so the war enters its final - and deadliest - phase...

[TheDutchman]

Interlude-A Day In A Life I

“…By the Maker, the repulsor control station!”  Came a yell from behind the crowd.  Koawan Bamiero Senitt looked on in horror as multiple explosions tore through the facility, the heat and concussive force enough to be felt here.  Even as he ran towards the buildings, he saw the ones nearest the station begin to teeter and sway, their stanchions and supports overwhelmed by the sudden burden upon them.  Without the repulsor fields to mitigate the weight load, Bam knew it was only a matter of time before the entire structure collapsed.  Then he saw that it wasn’t just one building that had been affected by the station’s now-apparent total destruction but in fact the entire Promenade District.

“…Oh shavit…” He said to no one in particular.  …How in the hell did it come to this…? He thought as he raced towards the Sk’ra’Ta Tower, one of the residential buildings.

Bam Senitt had been only just recently been knighted as a koawan by Kage Ovarug a year ago.  And while most of the teidowans and Gray knights that were his peers had gone over to Anson, Bam had been proud to side with the Anzati Kage.  To that end, he’d volunteered for this mission.

Word had come down from the Arbiter Master K’aval herself that their platoon was to act as one of the Kage’s famous feints, the primary objective shrouded in secrecy even from them.  As such, Maenowan Pramman Vedith had tasked them with a swift guerilla strike on one of Anson’s data-compilation buildings.  Their purpose was to distract but if they were successful, so much the better.  They’d met little resistance but there were multiple skirmishes around them, most urban blaster combat, a few lightsaber duels.

But before his squad could achieve their objective, the unthinkable had occurred: a fire had erupted too close to the Promenade, destroying the main repulsor generator.  Bam hoped that the superstructure of Sk’ra’Ta Tower would hold long enough to get everyone out…

Even with his armor, he was a thin man.  Which came in handy considering that some of the hallways and tunnels had collapsed upon themselves, often times creating impassable barriers.  But most blockages he could circumvent or squeeze through, allowing him to reach many groups of people that would have otherwise been cut off.  Between him and his lightsaber, he was able to evacuate many floors of the Tower.  But there was so much more to do…

As the hours progressed, Bam saw dozens of the surrounding buildings fall, ferrocrete dust and detritus mixing with the fire and smoke to create a dark red haze within the Galtean sky, reminding him of one of the Perdition Stories that his ‘Ama would tell him as a child before taking the tests for Force sensitivity.  By this time, some of the battlecruisers that had been in orbit were now parking in geosynchronous positions above Vhal’Uhladv, clearly from both factions, all aggressions forgotten as they fought to establish Relief.  …For all the good it’ll do us in the rank-and-file…we’ll be back to killing each other in a day or two… Bam thought sourly, surprising himself by the realization.  Shaking his head, he tried to convince himself that he was just tired, worried over the fire.  But the thought wouldn’t go away…

The Sk’ra’Ta Tower shuddered violently, recalling Bam to the present.  Drenched with sweat, he fought to keep the perspiration from blinding him, running a gloved hand over his dark bald scalp.  Not bothering to wait to see whether the building was going to disintegrate, the dark-skinned koawan ignited his yellow lightsaber, swiftly cutting a hole in the transparisteel window.  Belaying himself to one of the solid railings in the hall, Bam made sure that there was enough slack on the nylasteel rope to support his weight.  A sudden wrenching noise came from above him.  Without thinking, Bam jumped out of the hole he’d just cut, the nylasteel line snapping taunt after a several meter drop, bringing him to an abrupt stop.  …Thank the Maker… Bam closed his dark brown eyes, sweat dripping from his forehead, as he took a moment to collect himself.

But before he could begin descending, an enormous rumbling crash came from inside the Tower, a screeching sound booming from the window Bam had cut out.  With a lurch, he felt himself go momentarily weightless…

…Until the rushing ground came up to stop his sudden fall.  Somehow—either by luck or the will of the Maker—he’d landed on a collection of chora bushes, mitigating the worst of his injuries, although he’d dislocated his right shoulder.

Before he could focus on the pain, he heard a deafening booming.  Looking up, Bam could see that the Sk’ra’Ta Towers were fast collapsing.  Without thinking, the small koawan began to run as fast as his legs could carry him into the Promenade Plaza Square, not even stopping when the roaring crash quieted.  Feeling the burning in his lungs and right shoulder, Bam went over to one of the standing structured art installations.  Steeling himself and taking a breath, he used the ferrocrete stile to pop his shoulder back into place.

“Kriffing hell!” He quietly screamed as a wave of pain and nausea hit him.  Resting his forehead on the ferrocrete, Bam took a moment to collect himself.

And that’s when he heard the shouting.

Looking up, it was coming from the fifth floor of the Lrd’S’Gry Tower.  It was a small family: two adults, one holding a toddler, the other a young child.  Bam was in motion before he even knew what he was doing.  Standing directly below the family, he struggled to hear them.

Suddenly, one of the adults hoisted the young child over the railing, hanging them as low as their arms allowed.  Understanding, Bam waved a hand, shouting “Ready!”  The adult then let go of the child.

Using the Force, Bam was able to slow the young child—a girl he could now see—while simultaneously directing them onto a vector that would allow him to catch her.  Within seconds, the girl gently fell into Bam’s awaiting arms.  Crying, the girl clung to his neck in a death grip, her sobs mixed with short bursts of talking.  Unfortunately, either the girl didn’t speak Basic or she was shocked into talking only in her mother tongue.  Either way, Bam gently reassured her as best he could while planning on how best to catch the baby.  But it was a moot point…

Before Bam could set the girl down, a large explosion erupted from the doorway, immolating the two adults and the baby.  Following the detonation, the Lrd’S’Gry Tower swayed, fissures appearing all along the outer façade, running from the ground up as far as the eye could see.

Again by instinct, Bam turned and ran, the girl in his arms still crying.  He could feel small rocks hitting his shoulders as the wide building came crashing down, large chunks of ferrocrete hitting Bam on his back, knocking the air from his lungs.  Burning detritus pinned his legs as he collapsed to the ground, careful of the girl in his protective embrace.

Thankfully, Bam had put up a Force Shield around him and the girl.  So instead of crushing his legs (and the girl), most of weight was held at bay.  But…Maker did he hurt.  Looking around, he saw that he was partially buried, rays of orange light shining through although soot, dust, and detritus obfuscated much of the sunlight.

His ears ringing, Bam didn’t hear the people that had seen him disappear under the tide of falling stone, metal, and transparisteel.  Even as the debris was cleared from above him, Bam’s arms encircled the girl as he prayed, a prayer that his ‘Ama had taught him.  Finally, hazy red light of the Galtean sun occulted by clouds and smoke illuminated the small cavity that he was tightly wedged in.  Multiple hands grabbed at him, pulling him and the girl from their would-be tomb.  Holding the girl to his chest, Bam offered them all thanks before inadvertently sinking to his knees.  Speaking to the girl in his arm, he wearily promised, “…just give me…a moment…we’ll get…to safety…”

After a moment, Bam’s delirious mind registered talking, realizing after a moment that they were speaking to him.  “…It’s ok sire…it’s ok…we’ll get you help…” and “…so sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner…please…we’re sorry…”  After a moment, Bam focused before answering.

“…no need to be sorry.  We…we’re OK.  We’ll be fine... Just need some water…and rest…”  Why were they trying to take the girl away from him?  “…stop…stop it…”  But he could not deflect the hands of people around him; his arms could only hold the girl.  Finally, Koawan Riyan Kala’myr, a friend and one of his squad members found him.  From the look of her disheveled brown hair, she’d had as difficult a time as he had…

“What?  Sorry Riyan…but what did you say?”  He thought he’d misheard his friend.  The smoke made him cough and the red haze still hurt his eyes.

Riyan’s light blue eyes were watery and red.  But they also mirrored the compassion that Bam had heard in her voice.  “…Bam…it’s OK…please just…give me the body…”  She’d slowly approached the dark koawan, putting a gentle hand upon his shoulder.  “You did everything that you could, Bam.  Let me have her…”  Bam focused on Riyan, her face, her arms, her hands.  And, finally, he really heard what she’d said.  Slowly, he looked down at the girl in his arms.

Sightless blue eyes looked up at him, the girl’s face almost peaceful.  In fact, except for the small hole in her head where a piece of metal had lodged, she looked perfectly healthy.  When Bam looked back up at Riyan, he could feel tears rolling down his cheeks.

“It’s OK Bam.  Let’s get you to the squad medic.  Let me have her…”  Riyan gently disengaged Bam’s arms, taking the girl’s body from him.  Swiftly, someone put a blanket over his shoulders while someone else led him from the Promenade Plaza Square.

As Bamiero Senitt looked back over his shoulder, he saw a panoramic scene that would haunt him for as long as he lived: Riyan stood to one side, looking at the battlecruisers in the sky, lightning arced from the clouds to the exposed metals of the destroyed buildings as a result of so many particulates in the air.  The sky had turned a deep red as a result of the numerous fires and smoke.  Even though Civil- and Fire-Relief teams had finally arrived using power armor and mini-walkers, Bam knew that there was no hope here.

He had been both right…and wrong.  This wasn’t like the Perdition Stories he’d read.

It was Perdition.  And he was in it.

[Lord_S_Gray]

So often its the people in between two combatants that suffer the most.  Did these people in the tower - with the oddly familiar name - know or care about the moral issues over which Anson and KAzic fight - they had their child, wanted them safe...and in the argument between how best to do that have lost her and themselves. On top of this theme you really get a sense of Bam's pain - psychological (I loved how he started thinking on the starategic purpose on his mission but in the end only cared about holding that child) and emotional, the stifling heat and smoke as if it was a movie, the last scene was especially vivid I can just see it fitting perfectly in images we see even on our own world in various conflicts where children are in the middle - what are you really gaining by fighting if you're killing your own future I feel was an unspoken idea across this chapter.

Putting those thought aside glad this is day in the life I, because it means there will be a II!   

[TheDutchman]

Interlude-A Day In A Life II

“Ensign Liunb?  The Suppo was looking for you.” A deep, gruff voice came from behind the stout ensign.  Turning, the blonde junior officer stopped to wait as her companion fell into step beside her.

“What did Commander J’Onz need, senior chief?” She asked the mountain of a man that had addressed her.  As wide as they both were, there was barely a centimeter of clearance on each side of the bulkheads with them walking side-by-side.

Looking up, Sar Liunb saw her department senior chief stare straight ahead but his lips trembled as he fought off a smile.  “Something on your mind, senior chief?”  But she could already guess what it was.  She kept her own face controlled but she felt anxious, a not altogether unpleasant feeling…if she was right.

“No ma’am.”  Senior Chief Ju Damaris intoned, his pale face seemingly made of granite.  But his eyes told another story.  And his friend and OIC* knew Ju well enough to guess that she was correct.  Still: decorum had to be maintained…

“Very well.  Please lead the way.”  Ensign Liunb said, keeping her anticipation in check.  As they walked, Sar’s tone relaxed a bit.  “So Ju…how’re your boys doing?  And is it true what I’m hearing?  That Laquil is having a girl this time?”  From the corner of her eyes, she saw Ju’s lips finally smile, if slightly.

“Yes, ma’am.  We’re ecstatic.  This is a first for both of us, especially with Kam and Sol joining all of their boy cousins for the h’Agog’ee.”  The h’Agog’ee was the Vhal’Dan Adolescent Training Regiment that incorporated not only the Youngling’s Education but also the Order’s Pankration Instruction.  As per tradition, children regardless of gender were required to attend no less than two years but most ended up matriculating for much longer.  Ju knew that the h’Agog’ee helped to prepare for the trials and tribulations of life—his own past was testament to that—with the children coming out of it stronger and more self-assured.  “We already have a name chosen.”  He deliberately left the statement hanging.

“…Well don’t keep me in suspense, Ju.  What’s her name going to be?”  Sar adopted an exasperated tone that they both knew was for show.  “…And don’t tell me you named her after Laquil’s mother…”  She was only half-joking.

“Sar Juna Damaris.”  Was all he said.  It had the intended affect.  Sar stopped and, quickly looking around to confirm that no one was looking, she wrapped her arms around Ju, her face having lit up with joy.

“…Oh Ju… I…I’m honored.”  Quickly returning to her place beside the senior chief, she cleared her throat.  “Well…I guess that that means that I’ll be hosting the next celebratory party for you and Laquil.  Please give her my congratulations…and love.”  She said the last as a whisper.

Ju nodded, speaking softly.  “Thank you, Sar.”  Then, louder.  “Forgive me, Ensign, but Commander J’Onz is waiting.”  But he still had the ghost of a smile upon his lips.

Sar nodded.  “Of course, senior chief.”  She said as they both once again fell in side-by-side.

Making their way through the passageways, they both climbed several ladders until they reached the galley.  It was here that they both reported to the Supply Officer of the Intrepid, Lieutenant Commander W’Ade J’Onz.  Looking up from his datapad, the ruggedly handsome Suppo motioned both Sar and Ju over.

“Ah good, Ensign Liunb.”  J’Onz turned towards Ju.  “Thank you, senior chief.  Please see to the inventory consignment; I think one of the petty officers forgot that ‘senth’ comes before ‘trill.’”

“Aye, sir.”  As Senior Chief Damaris left, Commander J’Onz motioned to one of the adjacent cabins, keying the door closed.  Moving around the cramped quarters to sit behind his desk, he exhaled, relaxing.

“Sar…I have great news.  You’re being promoted.”  His hands rummaged around in his desk, finally locating the item J’Onz was looking for.  “Here, catch.”  With that, he tossed the item to Sar.

Catching it deftly out of the air, Ensign Liunb looked down in her hands to confirm what she had hoped that she’d heard correctly.  Sure enough, it was the rank insignia of lieutenant, JG*  For a moment, she was speechless but soon recovered.  “I…thank you, commander!”

Smiling, Commander J’Onz offered Sar a seat and, pulling a bottle from one of the hidden compartments from his desk, he took two glasses and poured for them both.  The dark, honey-colored liquor swirled around the glass while he talked casually.  “I’m proud of you, Sar.  And it couldn’t have happened at a better time.  You see…I’m being transferred to the Indomitable…”  He left the rest hanging in the air.

Sar gulped down the liquid.  …By the Maker, I was right…!  She thought.  Unsurprisingly, it was Corellian 18, a favorite of J’Onz.  “Congratulations, commander.  Have you served on a battlecruiser before?”

J’Onz refilled both of their glasses.  “Yes, but never as Suppo.  And with me gone, the Intrepid needs a new supply officer.  I’ve made my recommendations.  Congratulations, Ensign.  Or should I say, lieutenant.”  They both drank down the Corellian whiskey.

The Intrepid was one of several tactical frigates serving at the pleasure of Kage Kazic Ovarug.  A Valor II-class ship, the Intrepid had almost as much firepower as a battlecruiser, if not the armor.  Still, she was a mean, dangerous ship to be reckoned with.  Besides: Sar absolutely loved the Intrepid.  And she already got along famously with her NCOs*

“Normally I wouldn’t have broke with etiquette and would have waited until the end of this mission…but scuttlebutt is that the Kage is committing to some special offensive, and soon.  And…well, I just thought that the Intrepid would be better served on such a mission with her new Suppo already installed…”  J’Onz grinned, silently toasting Sar before they both gulped down the contents.  As Commander J’Onz was emptying the bottle, warning klaxons all over the ship began to sound.

“Battle stations!  All personnel, battle stations!”

“En—lieutenant, come with me!”  J’Onz barked.

Quickly exiting the cabin, both Lieutenant Liunb and Commander J’Onz made their way to the bridge.  Eschewing the lifts, they climbed several ladders, explosions reverberating the ship.  As they both entered the bridge, the did so amidst a scene of controlled chaos.

“…still no response to hails…”

“…engineering reporting main drive offline…”

“…starboard side turbolaser batteries 1-5 and 26-30 are down…”

“…hull breach on decks 3, 4, and 7; reverting power from aft shields to forward/dorsal…”

“…Captain, I have Koawan Xerda Denatti on channel 3; she’s offering to supplement medical.  Also: Maenowan Oram de’Janneric has combined his Jedi with 2nd Assault Marine Batallion to repel invaders…”

Even as all of this was echoing through the bridge, Sar spied Ju Damaris.  Seeing that Commander J’Onz was currently occupied, she called over to Ju.  “Senior Chief!”  As he approached, she lowered her voice.  “Ju…what’s going on here?”  Another explosion rocked the Intrepid, his time closer to the bridge tower.

“…Sar…we were betrayed.”  Ju nodded towards the battlecruiser just off center of the bridge transparisteel canopy, incoming turbolaser fire creating a green cascade of plasma that threatened to overwhelm the Intrepid’s shields.  “The battlecruiser was broadcasting the correct IFF and even proper mission codes.  But once it was in position, it opened up with a full broadside barrage, targeting our main systems and knocking out several.”  The large NCO motioned towards the rear of the bridge.  It took her a moment, but Sar finally noticed among the crumpled bodies, one of them was Captain Graal Yeh.  The Mon Cal's head had been caved in by some of the collapsing bulkhead.  “The XO* is in the Captain’s seat.  But…it won’t be enough.”  Looking around, Ju’s eyes then focused on Sar’s.  “Several of the volleys compromised the structural integrity of Engineering…followed by surgical strikes of half-dozen proton torpedoes.  They knew exactly where to hit us…”

Another loud report reverberated throughout the ship, this time even more violently.  As Sar looked around, she saw that Ju hadn’t even blinked, his eyes a constant gaze on her.  “…the reactor is going critical…Sar…you’ve got to get the hell out of here…”  Ju’s face was as hard as his voice.  Without warning, he grabbed her, dragging her to one of the many hatches leading to the life pods.  “…You’ve got to tell the Kage and Council that someone betrayed us.  Hopefully before we lose the entire fleet.”  He hit the release on the wall, the hatch noisily opening in a flurry of motion and a sudden release of air.  “Be safe, adelfi.”  Adelfi meant “sister.”  He put his hands on her shoulder, half-pushing, half-dragging Sar into the life pod.

Before he could register the movement, Sar grabbed Ju’s arm.  Pivoting with her legs, she threw the big senior chief through the air and into the life pod.  Momentarily stunned, Ju looked up at Sar, a calm look upon her face.  “I would have loved to see my namesake grow up.  Tell her about me.  I love you and Laquil.  Goodbye, adelfos.”  And with that, she keyed the hatch shut.  Ju felt a sudden increase in gravity as the life pod shot away from the Intrepid.  After a moment, the inertial dampers engaged and the big senior chief was able to strap himself into the chair.  Activating the monitor, he saw the Intrepid speeding away from him (at least, from his perspective).  Angry green lances of plasma continued to strike the frigate, its shields close to collapsing.

Before the monitor could polarize the image, the Intrepid exploded, ripping the dorsal thrusters away from the fuselage, the bridge tower collapsing under the intense increase in gravity as a result of the velocity.  Then, in a series of further blasts, from detonating armaments to multiple reactor furnaces going critical, the area around where the Intrepid had been was suddenly a field of debris and bodies.

The Intrepid had been lost with almost all hands aboard, Ju being one of the lone exceptions.  He stared at the debris field, the last thing that Sar had said to him echoing through his head.

“I would have loved to see my namesake grow up.  Tell her about me.  I love you and Laquil.  Goodbye, adelfos.”  Adelfos.  “Brother.”

Senior Chief Ju Damaris knew that he had to get word to Kage Ovarug or Arbiter K’aval…but he just sat motionless.  Uncertain.  Miserable.

Sar…had given her life so that his family could be complete.  Part of him was thankful.  Another part was remorseful.  And part still was angry.  Angry at Anson and his cronies, the cowardly ambush, the person whomever betrayed them.  But also at Kage Kazic Ovarug; he was at least partially to blame.  But worst…he was angry at Sar herself.  How dare she…

Ju could not even finish the thought.  He knew that part of his problem was despair, another “Survivor’s Guild.”  But right now, he couldn’t help it.

After all…how could he possibly raise children in a galaxy where two men who’d been brothers now fought to kill one another?

And still the despair engulfed him, even as his life pod was picked up by one of the rescue ships and Ju taken aboard, he knew that he would never be the same again.

**********

* OIC: Officer in Charge
* JG: Junior Grade
* NCO: Non-Commissioned Officer
* XO: Executive Officer

[Lord_S_Gray]

After all…how could he possibly raise children in a galaxy where two men who’d been brothers now fought to kill one another?

I think that pretty much says it all...the price is not just in blood and infrastructure but something far more intangible yet far more important.  Like the first entry start with a completely different  situation - getting a promotion - that is all becomes so irrelevant by the end, how quickly the world turns.  Have to wonder does Ju even have a family to go back to anymore though>