The Gray and the Unchained: Limits of Liberty

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 7 – Fracture - Part 3

Ry

“We trusted you would free us like you claim, not keep us chained to the farms!” the voice of anger and frustration cried over the crowd of slaver farmers in the dry air of the delta, vast plains of knee high grains all all around, the flat landscape punctuated by block Villa’s and the slow journey of the murk green waters to the sea that brought rich silt from distant mountains to make the plains of the Delta of Nadiem abundantly fertile.

Sledge sqaud, reassigned to the Raider 2 Freeblade had been rapidly dispatched to Nadiem to provide additional protection to a convoy of transports taking the recent harvest from the agriworld back to Eurydice base.

 Ry could tell Scrubber as taking no chances with getting curial supplies in, justified in light of the debacle at Dilbana, but so far it seemed the greatest problem wasn’t the Consotrium, but the freed slaves of Nadiem themselves, a sit in and other go slows having delayed the loading of the TL-1200s.

The landscape was one of old-rural tranquility, but the emotion was of vicious justified anger.

Yras A’Rann, a Camaas recruitment and Patron liaison, responded atop a small podium built of old shipping containers, members of Sledge squad and a handful of Liberator squads nearby while Hammer Sqaud kept an eye on things space side. 

That they were armed was probably not the best way to be meeting the half delegation half protest march of farmers who had come from across the Delta, nearly 400 in all as word spread that the harvest excess was being transported off world.
“You are being paid a fair wage for your work and produce, we…”

“What use are credits!” called a sarcastic voice front he crowd
“Do you see any merchants that accept them?!” that earned a dry bitter chuckle from the crowd, Ry could see their point, there was nothing here but the Farms and a barter system.

“..We are currently unable to transport you offworld, our ships are occupied and have recently been attacked,” the Camass replied half pleading

“You’ve room on your ships for the Grain!” was the bitter retort from the first speaker
“Why not us!”

The Crowd murmured with increasing anger,  beside her Ry heard Loftharr issue a resigned rumbling sigh, the large wookie sheepish in posture due to his discomfort with the situation.

The Sons needed the food, attempts to farm on Teth around Eurydice base had been unsuccessful, the jungle soils rich but thin, unsuited to any economically viable form of crop rotation or treatment, native fruits and legumes too reliant on the complex ecosystem of the jungle to be domesticated in a short time period.

“Please appreciate we are working as fast as possible, but…” Yras seemed lost for words at that point, realising that the Sons long term strategy was would be no balm to those suffering now, kept in the place of their abuse and seeing no discernable change to their living conditions or being given a timeframe for repatriation.

“You’re no better than the old masters!” another voice called the crowd becoming more like a mob edging forward, the Liberator troops in their orange painted armour getting twitching, hands reaching for their E11-S.

The crowd was fortunate Yras was a moderate type, her Caamas heritage no doubt contributing to her tolerance as the shouting grew less and less coherent, voices overlapping into a raucous wave of discontent.

<Perhaps we should return to the ships,> Loftharr suggested in a barely audible bark, Ry’s teeth on edge as the crowd pushed closer and closer.

“When are we leaving?” “Where’s Scrubber!” “He’ just another Pasha,”

“Please! We understand your frustrations but there is nothing we can…” Yras attempt at placating the crowd was ended as muddy rock stuck the Caamas in the side of the head, wet dirt black against her white fur, quickly mixing with red blood.

Yras dropped into a pained couch, Loftharr quickly leapt in front of her,the Liberators raised their weapons with  whirr of energy as they charged stun shots, Ry skidded to Yras side pressing her hand in the blood sicked fur.

“No, Do not shoot!” the Camaas ever unwilling to use violence called to the Sons' troopers.

But her voice was lost as more rocks were thrown. 

The First stun blasts followed soon after.

“We need out of here,” Ry took charge, helping Yras up.

“Pull back, Staggered retreat formation 4, Loftharr, Shorykam, take Yras,” the wookies easily lifted the Caamas even as more rocks hit their thick fur, Ry stood up pulling her Charric pistol firing in the air three times at full lethal setting, her frustration and annoyance written into her blue skinned face.

All the crowd saw were her red Chiss eyes.  Then the first punch was swung, a bolder farmer taking the step over the invisible line between the mob and the Sons to smack a young Liberator soldier, barely finished the basic training after being liberated half a year before, in the side of the head, the Pantoran falling back on his squad who responded in kind knocking the wiry farmer.

Blood had been shed, and blood would be paid.

Ry ducked under a barrage of stones as the farmers surged forth, a small group among them holding back decrying the escalation, but the herd mentality taking over both sides.

The wookies size compared to the others and Yras on Loftharrs shoulder made him a target of the mob's anger.

Ry pushed into the midst of the Liberators, her pistol set to stun, with  groaning regret she fired as one burly farmer rushed toward another Liberators with a metal bar raised, the shot felling him into a writing heap amidst the reeds, replaced by three more.

She fired, retreated, and fired again, “Back, get back!” she demanded of the irate mob, but each shot they fired undid any progress her appeal might make,

“Sergeant, call in the ships, get us picked up direct,” she called to the nearby Yinchorri with the red pauldron to signify his rank.

Meter by meter they wound back, firing valley after volley, but there were barely thirty Sons and hundreds of enraged farmers - no not farmers she had to remind herself - slaves that Scrubber had asked to keep working on their farms to provide for a grand plan they had never agreed to support.

She could curse the Togruta with each shot she was forced to fire as the rumble of a Zeta transport approached, more and more sons falling to the rocks and fists in the tight close combat, Ry slouch dragging one Duro with one arm snapping shots with the other and dodging lobbed rocks where she could.

More and more began to hit blackening her already blue skin beneath the Imperial Style flight suit.

The pilots on the Zeta saw their comrades under attack, and, acting on initiative, fired the Zeta’s laser turrets into the ground.

The effect was immediate, reeds turned to carbon, water and mud slashed over the whole group as space grade weapons struck fertile bog.

Anger in the mobs voice turned to screams of terror that they would be murdered from the air, they began to scatter, the bruised Sons firing stun shots in their backs as they went.

“CEASE FIRE, CEASE FIRE!” Ry yelled over the shots.

It was pointless she knew, the damage had already been done.

<<<<>>>>

Ken

“Very noble of you,” the tone offered no clue as to whether it was sarcasm or praise.

He had followed the Brutes through half a dozen of the long corridors in the deep barracks of the base set in the rocky mesa, stopping fights and reducing tension on both sides where he could.

As’har’Lem, her leg tightly bound with gauze and bacta tape hobbled up to him with more elegance than he would’ve imagined for her injury.

“Not sure you’ll have changed many opinions either way,” she added nodding toward the wary Brutes at the far end past the tossed clutter of gear of the floor, the heavy outline of Ravge crossing their path, they paused to inform him of their lack of progress in finding anything incriminating beyond a handful of contraband drugs and already logged personal communicators that had a few minor repairs compared to the official manifest kept by the Brutes.

Ravge glared down the hall at Ken, then stalked onward.

“Knight’s don’t make friends Ken,” Ash cautioned “But they sure rack up enemies,”

Ken saw a different scene, the volunteers collecting up their belongings who had overheard his interventions looking to him with thankful nods even as they worried about how secure their tenure with the Sons would be given the suspicion they were under.

“Maybe, but it’s the right thing to do,”

“You sound like your father when you’re preachy,” she chided gently, but the barb stung harder than she had expected.

“I heard he’s been making a mess for himself back on M’tzigon, one of the many perks of being permanently offworld,”

“You don’t like it on M’tziogn?” Ken asked puzzled

“M’tzigon doesn’t like me on it, I learned to adapt.” she replied no doubt referencing whatever old grudge it was rumoured Silman had toward her leading him to post her anywhere as far from the Temple and the Mountain as possible.

“If you want to get on long term away from the Maker-happy crowd you need to do the same, people out here don’t want a Jedi, and no one will thank you for being a Knight,”

He turned to her fully eyes creased like his mother and grandfather in surprise and concern.

“You’re a Knight though?”

She raised her own brow as if to say Am I?. 
“You know I haven’t touched my saber in years, they stand out and I consider it a personal if a failure if an enemy ever gets close enough that I’d need one,” she answered indirectly but clearly

“Take it from someone who learned the hard way, that tube of metal - and the wide eyed Teidowan do-gooding that goes with it - will cause you a lot more problems than it will solve out here.”

She patted him on the shoulder and made her slow way along with a bouncing limp, a healing tune still on her lips despite her seeming dismissal of so much of the Order that had taught her that very skill.

<<<<>>>>

Scrubber

Rising slowly he could not take his eyes off the vermillion and velvet skin of Jal’ina as she lay uncovered.

Somewhere in the distance his comm buzzed in the pocket of his discarded padded jacket. 

He ignored it. 

For the first time in decades he was taking moments for himself, enjoying pleasure that was just his own and not lived vicariously through the ecstatic joy of others. 

barely had he taken a sip of water than he felt the caressing touch of Jal’ina once more drawing him back to the bed, the room humid with the sweet musk of her body.

“Come, Tend me again my Adored,” she whispered in a voice that annihilated every other sound,
He looked toward the jacket and its jiggling pocket
“You need to rest, connect,” Jal’ina became more insistent
“Return to the fight stronger and more driven than ever, You were wearing yourself to nothing”

“Yes…I needed…need time…to reflect…” he returned to her, his hands moving over her figure, pausing at the emerald jewel that had caused her such angst, a thought breaking through the blanket of desire for the Zeltron woman.

“I wish we could rescue your sister…Jal’ina…are you still able to communicate with her?”

“If she is still well I hope…but let us speak of this later….”

“I know this is much to ask…too much perhaps…”
“I would do anything for you my Adored,” Jal’ina insisted, her limbs wrapping round him
“Could you try and contact her, see if she knows anything, has overheard something…even the smallest detail could be a boon to the Cause…”

“I fear it would put her at great risk…”

“I know, I would not ask except we are in dire need…” he looked into her sapphire eyes feeling drawn more and more into her.

“The Cause must come first,” Jal’ina agreed, her kisses moving to his ear

“But the needs of a Tender and his flower must also be met…”

<<<<>>>>

[TheDutchman]

It's interesting with how the outcome of the Sons' ambushed operation affects both the eponymous group and the Consortium: Tyber Zann--ever the opportunist--securing yet another lucrative source of tribute to strengthen while Scrubber finds that the divides between his own people run deep, further fracturing as unanswered questions tear through the Sons.  Worse, Scrubber's acquiescence to Ravge's demands serve to fragment disparate groups even further, proof that often times there are no good choices.

Still, Ken shows his maturity as both a Knight and a man, standing up to the Brutes and their "interrogations."  Unsurprisingly, it is this conviction that will inaugurate his desire to separate him from his famous (some would say infamous) father, now a man in his own right.  It also illustrates how two predominate schools of thought can have diametrically different results: acting with aggression perpetuating fear and distrust versus standing against such with solidarity and compassion.  This is why Ken (and those of like mind) are so integral to the Sons' survival: they propagate good will to those who've already experienced the horrors of slavery (and worse).  Hopefully, such ideals won't either make them blind to certain necessities nor give rise to pretentiousness.  Certainly Ash's predicament underscores how such positions can be precarious.

Yet it's Scrubber whose conflict is front and center causing problems to grow worse while also causing his self-doubt and anger towards the depredations he's witnessed.  He's not only a man obsessed but also one that feels the responsibility of leadership and the pain of a thousand cuts from every loss experienced by the Sons.  Even his relationship with Jal’ina is subject to this: he vacillates between his feelings for her and how they take away from his focus on the Cause, not to mention that even her own assurances of innocence and devotion to him are almost held at arm's length (again, against the Cause).

All of this illustrates how things are seldom "black and white," that the galaxy is almost never simply antipodal between two lone positions, especially amongst many more available.  That is the strength of the narrative...and the tragedy.

Meta-note: Ken's "education" about the realities of life continue while Ry sees firsthand how initial laudable intentions can turn so badly so swiftly.  As for Scrubber...here is a man who has long denied himself of his own needs now drowning under the weight of his convictions towards his Cause. 

And even a person who has experienced pain beyond almost any other can still be surprised...and hurt.  Brilliant, compelling storytelling^^

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 8 – Double Bluff - Part 1

Zann

His footstool was a Twi’leki, his seat a Nagai, and his backrest a Zeltron as he lounged in the simmering hot water in the pool at the center of the sauna carved in the deep red rock of Saleucami.

“At least ratchet down a peg Jeryd,” Zann quipped at the still stiff Admiral of his fleet who seemed physically incapable of any posture other than academy stiff, Varl only knew how bland he must be to the concubines.

This was a small celebration for their win at Dilbana, a brief respite - all well aware much more work was already underway for the next score.

Urai remained at the door, ever eyeing the concubines for the slightest hint of treachery, largely impossible as they never left the harem of his Saleucami fortress.

Saleucami, meant "oasis" in Pantoran; a word which was fitting for the only habitable planet within a system filled with dead worlds and meteors which frequently crossed  the planet's orbit, crashing in to create craters and calderas. Overtime, geothermal vents and subterranean water opened up within these craters, creating circular seas and turning some calderas into life-filled pockets on the planet's surface.

One of these Oases was the site of the Consortium fortress, one of only two physical locations of his amorphous Empire of Corruption.

“Seems that the easiest path is to take the one over Glottal first,” Zann began referencing the Sons ISD in orbit over the famed Akropoli of Glottal, while the Sosn didn’t control the planet fully, they were making serious inroads and had virtual control of all the best transit lanes.

“We fly in the fleet and pump it full of so much Ion energy it would shut a Jiggo-Droid Down,”

Even Urai’s beak grimaced at the joke.
“We’ll need more than just Ion cannons and Mag-Pulse missiles, the Sons will be expecting us, and their TIE Defenders are a serious threat to our Vipers and Blastboats.” Sykes cautioned.

“And how would you deal with us if you were the Sons?” Zann proposed the hypothetical before taking a sip of a Mandalorian Myth-Back, the earthy tang filling his nostrils.

“Keep the ISD within the upper atmosphere where the Akropoli’s guns will be in range and more accurate, have a screen of Frigates overhead to soak up fire, force us to come to them if we want the ship intact.  Our Corvettes won’t last as long against the Defenders, but the Sons need to use them sparingly, and their Kel-Dor Commander of Air Group is canny enough to know that.  Wait till we draw close then hit us from the rear with the second ISD or a Heavy cruiser.”
Sykes paused
“And no doubt they have some other non conventional weaponry to use as they did to capture the Justicar in the first place, a gas I believe,”

“So how do we win?” Zann pressed idly, fondling the Zeltron.

“We follow their lead, send Ereshkiga  Fleet in first, sacrifice a few slave staffed ships and then copy their play, call in Ishtra fleet in behind them, turn our guns on the wedged fleet, then overwhelm the ISD with Ion fire from double the ships.”

“Ishtra is over the droid works on Hypori, we move that fleet the Hutts or the Sons could make a play,” Zann noted   

“We have two Malignance Class 4 Space stations over Hypori, they wouldn’t get far, and they don’t have the numbers, the Sons fleet is over extended across Teth, Nadiem and Glottal as is, and it's too dangerous for them to try and fly along the Shag Pabol in number, they won’t leave the Baxel sector,”

“You’re right, the Sons are bold but not stupid,” Zann agreed as the Twi’leki cleaned between his toes.

“With their ISD lost we pick off their forces on Glottal then cut them off from Nadiem…starve them of supplies then go in for the kill,” Zann’s smile was predatory and self assured

“I know Urai has been looking forward to matching blades with this…’Black Armoured’ fellow” he added with a nod to his own Enforcer, Urai’s arm blades glittering as the reflections from the deep pink overhead lights bounced off the warm waters. 

The Avian enforcer merely chirped low.

“Set the wheels in motion Sykes,” Zann resolved, sinking himself deeper into the steaming thermal springs, the rich salts tingling his skin.

“We have a four month deadline to meet,” 

The deadline was very real, he could not keep his Defliers from their own territories for much longer, and could not afford to pay the Mercenary corps any longer than 5 months without additional funds.

But such were concerns for another day.

Drawing both Zeltron and Twi’lek to his lips he paid no attention to the crimson skinned slaves belly button jewel as it subtly vibrated.

<<<<>>>>

Scrubber

“We only obtained two thirds of the expected harvest,” Ziac’ch explained as they overlooked the distribution of the fresh grain into smaller parcels.

“And I don’t expect we will receive any more soon unless…”

“Unless we use force - you can say it my friend,” Scrubber added grimly, the ‘uprising’ on Nadiem was a poor showing on both sides and would take much effort to repair relations.

“Are we able to get the Justicar to do a pick up, a sign of goodwill?,” the Togruta asked.

“That was the second problem I needed to raise with you,” The Besalisk said, noting the Togruta’s eyes seeming to wander…elsewhere…as they walked along.

“The Justicar remains confined to Glottal, repairs are still underway, I’m pushing every contact we have for parts and supplies.”

Scrubber seemed utterly unconcerned
“Good…good…”

Now Ziach’ch was worried

“Scrubber, our ISD is trapped on Glottal for at least another week until we can get more coolant shipped there,” Ziach’ch flesh face face strained against the hard edges of his cybernetics.

Scrubber turned swiftly to him placing his hands on the Besalisks shoulders though the Togruta was substantially shorter.

“This works out even better than before my friend, you’ll see,”

<<<<>>>>

Ry

As bad as she felt, Ken looked worse in the desolate quiet of Bishop hangar, the usual bustle and good natured banter replaced by stilted grunts and suspicious side glances as container upon container of grain was unloaded. 

She didn’t know how she could ever stomach eating anything made with it knowing how it had been acquired, and knowing what was being left behind on Nadiem in the name of the ‘greater good’.

“Jeez probie what happened?” she asked, feigning a jovial expression that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Ravge and his goons were set loose looking for spies, did what I could to keep them off the Volunteers…and tidy up our bunk after,” he spoke quickly feeling the deep disquiet radiating off her.

“Nadiem went bad didn’t it,” he stated

“Really bad…” She leaned forward but found her embrace distant for her Flight suits bulky life support system. 

“We got the food, but lost the People, it got violent,” she admitted, unconcealed anguish in her red eyes.

He held her that bit tighter as everything spun further out of control, the edges of the Song in his mind frayed and splitting into chaotic discordant percussion.

A cymbal like wave rocked through them both as they held to each other as a safe harbour amidst the gathering storms.

“All Flight Group, Liberator Regiment, Ranger and Brute Squad Leaders report to Conference Paladin for emergency briefing.”

<<<<>>>>

Trynt Saar

“We’ll do what we can,” Saar promised the tinny voice of Ziach’c on the other end of the Hypercomm line, no hologram just the burnished brass reflecting Saars own dark rounded features, greying curly stubble the only hair on his head.

Wiping his calloused spark burnt hand over his face he squeezed back out of the comm’s booth into the hardly less claustrophobia inducing store house in the low tiers of BackWater on Denon’s southern Hab Zone.

Saar had run supplies to the Son’s for over 5 years now, mostly dealing with the Cybernetically re-built Besalisk, and in all that time he’d never heard the kind of concern or urgency that came across even the bad connection to his little operation on Denon.

Shuffling and shimming through the overpacked warehouse filled with goods for his freight companies legitimate runs he felt the burdensome weight of the paint chipped crates around him - his homeworld of Mylinoth was an expansive savannah - well the habitable zones any way - space was abundant….until the Republic decided to occupy Mylinoth during the Clone Wars.

The small system had little strategic importance to anyone, not even a senate seat, but it had a large population, and the Republic needed workers as the Confederacy put other manufacturing hubs under threat.  People were pulled from their pastures, press ganged into factories, paid a pittance in Republic Credits that bought little as war time inflation sent prices soaring.

Their herds of Ildarabeast slaughtered to near extinction to feed core worlds for perhaps a day or two given their enormous populations  - their contribution to the war effort the Republic called it - a ravaging Saar and others felt.

With their herds extinct they took jobs where they could, Saar winding up running cheap manufactures that were not Myloniths main export, building a small shipping company, keeping under the Empires radar - another choke chain on his people.

When he discovered the Son’s, he felt he found kindred spirits, Saar and his homeworld might not have been physically beaten into slavery, but the economic and environmental devastation had made them desperate beggars eeking an existence under the yoke of corporations exploiting them for cheap labour.

He couldn’t change what was happening on Mylonith - it was still under Remnant control, he couldn’t even travel there anymore - but he could help the Son’s and learn from them how to build a resistance network, train troops and saboteurs, then maybe one day he hoped, return to Mylonith and free it from the Empire, New Republic - whoever wanted to keep them down.

“Alright gang we need to rush that order for ‘Spick and Span’ ,” he said coming out into the main loading dock

“Get everything loaded up and I’ll talk to Buudo, see if he can…”

Saar stopped dead, staring at the figure of Hymni who seemed to be bent over a crate.  His dark eyes drifted down to the thick pool of blood at Hymni’s feet as her body slid off at the hips.

“Weak” a sharp voice whispered in his ear before a blade punctured through his chest the edge long enough to reach from sternum to abdomen.

Urai was growing bored with these petulant little tasks, as if Zann did not want him on the front line - perhaps feared he would not be a match for the Jedi boy, the Gen’dai Gladiator or the Shadow Lord.

Trynt Saar slipped off his hopes for his world spilling out as surely as his blood onto the pitiless hard deck.

With a quick flick of the vibro setting the blood and gore shivered off entirely leaving his arm blades once more gleaming and unsatisfied. 

Checking his arm scanner his beak twitched in anticipation, hoping the next of the supply routes they were severing from the Son’s offered more of a challenge.

<<<<>>>>

Scrubber

“My Friends things have been difficult of late…but at last we have been gifted a golden chance to not only strike back at Zann and his cronies, but drastically increase our industrial capacity,”

Raptor-like Scrubber leered over the tactical map in the large conference room Paladin, all of the Sons command, 28 beings, Faithful and Loyal beyond question, equally perplexed and excited by his pronouncement.

“In six days Zann will launch an attack on Glottal, to do so he will dedicate two of his Three fleets, most importantly the one defending his Droid and Heavy Weapons Factory at Hypori that produces not only those nefarious Droidekas but also a large portion of his vessels replacement parts and armoured units.  He thinks we won’t dare send our forces so far from the Baxel sector…he is wrong. Wherever the enemies of Freedom stand, there we march!”

His voice boomed and stirred quelling, for the moment questions in everyone's mind.

“Now…with the spy who betrayed us on Dilbana still not located despite the Brutes best efforts, we must be cautious in how we approach this. Ostensibly we will inform a task force led by the Unchained we are planning another raid on Dilbana, ships we say are headed to claim the next harvest on Nadiem will be diverted to Glottal at the last possible jump point.”

He brought up a list of his proposed allocations to each field of conflict, the diversions and estimates of Zann’s forces headed for Glottal.

“We cannot defend against that many,” Ravge protested noting the Brutes were to defend the Justicar and the Akropoli against Zann’s two fleets.

“I assure you we have a plan - whilst we disabled most of the Akropoli’s shields when we took it, Artemis Industries has rushed 50 workers to bring the Ground to Space cannons back on line…and provided Two extremely powerful Charric based Hades Ground to Space Cannons, each, I have been assured, are worth ten Turbo lasers, albeit they are only capable of four shots with our limited power generators. In addition, Black Armour will provide…special support…capable of rendering one of Zann’s capital ships inert in the midst of the battle.

The Consortium has many dangerous and unique weapons, but I assure you they have experienced nothing like the carnage these weapons will inflict upon them,”  his face was a vicious sneer of anticipatory cruelty

“I only wish I could be there to see it. I will personally lead the attack and claim Hypori, then once secured  the Unchained will head to Glottal to mop up what remains of Zann’s forces.”

“Further to this our allies on M’Tzigon, in recognition of our efforts to support them in the wake of their recent disaster are sending several units of Men at Arms and extra Knights  - whilst they cannot officially act against the Consortium to ensure they are not pulled directly into the conflict they can act to protect M’Tzigon citizens, that is Wolfe and his staff here on Eurydice base, allowing us to dedicate more of our forces to the attack,”

Scrutinizing the deployment patterns and resources allocated to each arena Sala could find little to fault…except.

“Scrubber I have to ask, how did you come across this information,” she asked, for once sharing in common a concern with Ravge, the vast Gen’dai’s face more scrunched than usual..

“I am curious as well,” Kal’Etsp added, well aware of the recent substantial losses to their networks.

“For now my source must remain anonymous but I assure you, they are absolutely trustworthy.” Scrubber replied without hesitation.

Unusually even Black Armour tilted his head toward the Togruta leader, as if by some astonishing mechanism he too was caught by surprise by the lack of transparency, a feature of Scrubbers leadership had always been complete candour with all brothers and sisters except where essential to protect their spy networks identities.

“We’ve built a large network of friends and allies, it is time to call in those favours in our hour of need, Ziach’c arrange all the supplies you can to replenish our stores, we’ll need them once Zann is dealt with…This is our time sirra’s have no doubt about that,” Scrubber doubled down with his own confidence to allay any doubt.
 

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 8 – Double Bluff - Part 2

Ty’Mel’Ro

Bumping along Silver Ty’Mel’Ro tried to keep a stabilizing calming tune on his lips - but damn it was hard.

The sandy haired Knight always got motion sickness, even on the smoothest of space craft, and the old pre-Clone Wars Gemini IV Chandrillan Freighter was as choppy as the waters off Copper Harbour in a mid winter storm.

But it was the only ship they had to spare, and it’s nondescript profile and reliability made it perfect for a quick trip to Teth -  Three squadrons of marines with him and two other Koawan’s, Rhk and Nel. 

It was a quickly thrown together force, word out of the Son’s was grim as anything, Ash severely injured after a massive loss on Dilbana, and some serious tensions between the ‘Freed’ and the ‘Volunteers’ boiling over.

Tym didn’t know how much he could help with the politics, but a few more hands and armoured bodies had to count for something.

On top of that as the refit of the Requiem was starting up, and the clean up after the Battle of S’Kar’yom continuing, the Fleet had found itself with a whole lot of recovered Imperial grade equipment and spares it didn’t have much use for - but the Son’s with their Raiders, TIEs and Star Destroyers certainly did.

Attached to the sides of the Gemini like two bloated wings were cargo containers chock full of parts and power cells the Son’s would need over the next few weeks.

“Gemini this is Condor, confirm you’re clear for final jump,.”

Their Escort Fighter Carrier Condor had seen them safe to the last point before the jump straight to Teth.  It wasn’t the typical route via the Shag Pabol, they were avoiding anything that might see them detected by the probes this ‘Zann Consortium’ had about.

“Gemini Confirm coordinates locked preparing to jump, over” the pilot replied, Tym just behind trying to keep himself from showing any outward sign of the nausea he was feeling, as soon as they jumped he knew he would need to visit the refresher…unfortunately there there only two for 40 crew…

“We’ll see you at Orbit 2 for a few Sunrises and Pizza when you get back, over and out,”

The two pilots in the relatively cramped cockpit pushed the levers forward and with a shudder that sent a shot of bile into Tym’s mouth the ship entered hyperspace.

Still he felt psychological relief, after what Ash had said about the ambushes the Son’s had suffered there was genuine worry something might go wrong, even with the Condor and their Fighter escort.

He waited a half a minute so his departure wouldn’t be too obvious.

“I’ll just be in the ‘fresh….”  his words were cut off as the ship vomited itself out of hyperspace, alarms screeching.

“Full reverse thrust, cut the power to the Drives, stabilise,” both pilots were frantic as Tym staggered, breathing deeply then drawing the Force to him. He had no time for motion sickness now.

“Sir, unidentified gravity well brought us out….” the pilot paused his face growing ever more red with worry as his hands moved faster.

“The comms are jammed, I can’t get a signal in or out…the Condor will think we’re still in hyperspace…”

The jump hadn’t even lasted a minute, but even so they would’ve travelled at least 10 light years in that time, perhaps 2 or 3 systems away from the jump point.

“There,” the second pilot confirmed her eyes tight on a mid range scan

“Gravity well…large mass but tiny volume…”

“An Interdictor…Makers Mercy - they knew exactly where and when…” Tym growled his chest rising more with each breath as the Force firmed his posture and limbs.

The ship shuddered an instant later, thumping heavy blasts from behind them.

“Shields up, try and get a jump solution factoring in the new…”

The entire hold vibrated with a far heavier hit, the control consoles sparking, a lighting arc hitting the female pilot in the eye,

“Jel! MEDIC!” the male yelled, Tym quickly pulling her from the chair, the pilot returning to his work.

“Damn it…that…must’ve been a mag-pulse missile, they scramble everything electric but ignore shields…”

“Three guesses who has access to that kind of nasty tech,” Tym growled as the Medic arrived.

“Sergeant, get ready for boarders!”

<<<<>>>>

He had arrived just in time to countermand the gas option.

Urai Fen could feel the Breadth of the beings on board this vessel - well three of them at least their wings were large and beaks sharp.  A fitting challenge.

For nearly two hours the Star Vipers -after expending their grossly expensive mag-pulse missiles to disable the ship - had made Ion runs to remind them they were there and let them stew in anxiety waiting for the attack to come. 

Fittingly he would use the ‘Worm’ device on the TIE Phantom Brakhest Tahn had captured from the Son’s rangers.

Speaking of the Delifer chief….

“This is a poor tactic,” The hardened mercenary sniffed at Urai, Fen gave him credit he didn’t cower like the other Defilers before him,

“Gas the bastards and be done with it,” he continued as they strode lockstep toward the hastily erected dock in the Aggressor Destroyer to hold the Phantom rather than a Viper.

Urai didn’t reply, merely glaring down his beak.

Tahn was very annoyed at Fen’s presence, not only was his assistance unnecessary, but the damn Talortai had a habit of eviscerating his victims - Tahn had no use for corpses - well apart from the women and the force sensitive ones which some especially vile clients had an interest in if kept sufficiently chilled  -  but live humans from a fairly wealthy world he could ransom or sell.

“I don’t want my booty damaged,” as if to emphasize the point Tahn tugged at the leash he kept the Mirilan woman on.  Argeni, once leader of Ranger 11, now a bruised shattered shell didn’t even yelp.

“They are not your prizes to be sold,” Urai whistled darkly, his truth based on two points, firstly it was not so easy as Tahn thought to capture Jedi trained warriors alive, and secondly everything captured belong first and foremost to Tyber Zann, then the Delifers could pick from what Zann allowed.

“Be sure there is something left to sell,” Tahn growled as Urai raised the Phantom's platform.

<<<<>>>>

They didn’t manke any effort to conceal their approach.

The TIE Phantom flew straight up the Gemini, the Worm device latching on and cutting into the hull, giving the marines and Knights plenty of time to prepare.

Sergeant Dale had overlapping fields of fire and a few nasty tricks waiting for them, every marine and Knight in full sealed gear to protect against gas, energy-sinks on their belts to dissipate stun blasts.

Their hope - slim though it was - was to overcome the boarding party, get on the Phantom and use it’s comms array to send for help. Slicer’s were ready for just that.

Nothing could have truly prepared them for what came from behind the slab of metal that fell to the floor hissing magma burns, the thump echoing off the white panelling of the port access corridors that had long since yellowed with age.

Six marines fired instantly into the breach, short range Slug-shot guns with high stopping power doing nothing to stop the spinning blades of the Talortai, the molecular sharpness and speed of the blades slicing through the flechette weapons, personal shield shrugging off the Blaster carbines.

Urai’s clawed toes tapped through the carefully placed trip wires and pressure mines, his arm blades moving straight into the snap hissing blade of Tym, fiery orange bleeding off his bespoke blade as he rushed the attacked the Song deep in his breast.

“GO!” he yelled to the Marines who needed no urging, they went in behind Fen to take the Phantom as Saber and Blade clashed in rapid spins, Tym already feeling his skeleton shake with the intense impact of his opponent.

The Talortai didn’t seem to be using the Force, or at least not in a way Tym understood it, he just seemed ‘ancient’ in the sense of experience, seemingly calloused against any kind of Force attack Tym tried.

Ducking under one of the huge arm blades Tym quickly blocked the second before it sliced toward his legs, he doubted even his own Song-steel armor would stop those huge things considering the power behind it.

Urai cawed from his beak revelling in, at last, a decent challenge, Marines nearby looking to fire at him when they could, while 4 worked their way cautiously up the ‘Worm’ to the Phantom - once three were passed weight sensors triggered the device to detach.

Air blasted out as it tried in vain to fill the void along with two of the marines, the others clinging for dear life. 

Tym could hardly believe it as the air rushed away from around him - how did the attacker intend to survive open space! 

He had no time to think of it now, the huge arm blades kept seeking him, the battle song kept his limbs moving, saber twisting to match the incredible speed…as more air left he heard a hissing whistle - the breathing tube had been cut - biting on his back up rebreather he had to trust in that as the larger tank on his back was leeched out into the void.

Regaining his footing as the initial blast of displaced air died out he struck fast and low against his larger opponent aiming for the legs, one thrust searing what looked like fur beneath thick unnaturally hardy fabrics.

“Impressive,” Urai grunted, having gained the measure of his foe.
“Still, your fate has come,”

As if flicking some invisible switch the intensity of Talortai’s attack doubled catching Tym off guard, the avians backward knee allowed him to kick the Mak’tor clear in the gut without him seeing it coming, the arm blade that swept down smacked into his orange saber at an odd angle causing Tym’s grip to falter - the second arm blade sped toward his face sharpened edge gleaming…

Effortlessly slicing through the Exo-helm it stopped a bare millimeter from Tym’s eye, cutting into the upper bridge of his nose.

Urai grunted as Nel held the avian's arm back with the Force, the echoes of balster fire and the shudder of explosions now rattling the whole ship as despite his instruction - Tahn boarded on the starboard side.

The marines counter attack blasted the first two Dorideka’s apart but the third deployed over its sparking brothers, shields double front and moved like walking cover soaking up fire to allow two more in behind it.

The Marines were on either side along the corridor, but cramped could only bring so much fire to bear against the shielded droids, and couldn’t risk using the heavy ordinance needed to bring them down.

“So shall it be,” Urai growled his will pulsing against Nel’s telekinetic grip, her olive features scrunching as he caused the Force to ‘tremble’ around him making any attempt to use it near him difficult - a fact Tym quickly learned as he ‘lost’ his rhythm in the battle song and the flow of energy through his body as the ‘tremble’ increased - just as the ship itself rocked and shuddered from the increasingly fierce fighting, so the force was destabilised.

Rhk in the aft storage bay found his grip hurling a Droideka across the room stunted, the mechanical menace falling short, but the Marines in cover behind crates of their supplies and gear still took advantage, one combat rolling to slap a door breaking charge on its underside dome, blasting it’s legs in every direction.

Tahn and his Mercenaries were pushing in behind the Droideka’s with non lethal weapons - sonic wave cannons, radiation spikers and Carbonite micro missiles.

The Marines quickly adapted spreading out to ensure the area effect weapons wouldn’t catch as many of them, but the cramped confines made it difficult, those Marines in power armour began making dents in the Droideka’s, allowing the regular marines to down the advancing Merc’, Rhk in the center angling toward Tahn himself - feeling through the Force his ‘aura of command’ and knowing taking that red armoured bastards head would demoralise the rest.

Force shuddering about them, Nel and Tym found themselves on the defensive against Fen, well knowing if they fell the Talortai would tear through the marines with contemptuous ease - as it stood only the Song, shaky as it was, kept them in the fight, Tym could almost wish that damn Karmack were here to help!

With each block he felt himself wavering more, the Song harder and harder to keep in tune with, Nel’s silver blade stabbed in where it could but seemed a mere irritant rather than threat to Fen.

The toll of the seemingly endless supply of Droid’s and carbonite weapons began to tell against the Marines - eleven now stuck where they had been snapping shots from cover.

The last litres of air were sucked out left them ever more stuck as Tahn determinedly pressed forward, his modified DLT-19 peppering every inch of the ship with shots, eating into the walls and frames and forced the marines to keep down, making them all the easier prey for Carbonite tracer micro missiles that rounded corners to find them.

His confidence at securing a good number of captives was quickly snapped as a blue saber sliced through the two men at his back, Rhk having reached him at last.

Spinning Tahn unleashed his rapid fire weapon straight at the Mak’tor who deftly spun his sabre to bounce the shots back at the Delfier - but the sheer amount the modified weapon could put out allowed two of at least 100 rounds through, breaching Rhk’s suit.

With all the fortitude and focus the song could offer the Mak’Tor launched a swift counter offensive, Nel and Tym pushing back against Fen, Rhk launching at Tahn.  Blue saber sliced through DLT-19 barrel, messy energy sloughing out unfocused as the Deflier tossed it aside and drew Tremor-daggers slashing at the knight, Nel pushed out a wave of kinetic energy so Tym could gain enough space to get fully on Fen’s other side then pressed the Avian from both sides.

Tremor knife and arm blades spun and crackled against lightsabers in the airless tomb the Gemini was becoming, sound lost with the air, only their own breathing could be heard and the vibrating tremors of each impact felt as they fought.

They fought well.  But not well enough.  Tahn was soon joined by his Mercenaries, Rhk forced to deflect blaster bolts from behind him, the Defiler quick to stab the Mak’tor in the gut, blood and air rushing out as Tahn’s fist connected with the back of his head, staggering him into a mercenaries rifle butt.

Just as Tym felt he had a shot - Fen’s arms spread , arm blade against saber on each side his chest behind the thick hide like clothing inviting a thrust to the heart -  Fen seemed to vanish.

His personal cloak activated for a second the blade locks were broken, their momentum staggering them. 

They trusted in the Force to let them sense where their opponent was…but the trembling in the Force intensified - Nel swung and by a slim few inches missed - Urai did not - his cloaking field shimmering off as his arm blade went through both her knees at once, rich hot blood pouring out in blobs that floated in all directions, gravity long since lost.

Both blades now turned on Tym who locked his blade horizontal to take the dual hit - Urai launched his extended avian neck forward his helmets beak hatch opening so he could peck at the Mak’Tor’s already damaged helmet ripping it open and causing Tym to flinch away - Urai doubled down and slammed him into the wall with his next blows, hacking at the Mak’tor till he finally slumped down.

With a disappointed whistle he lopped off Tym’s head, Tahn could keep the female, he preferred those after all.

Still not quite enough of a challenge.

<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 8 – Double Bluff - Part 3

Scrubber

“My adored…” Jal’ina said her sapphire eyes wide after another hours enjoyment together, skin always crimson now almost ruby red.

“...must you go?”

Scrubber clasped his belt round his waist, his faithful Naboo ELG-3A pistol in it’s holster

“I need to lead this from the front, show Zann, and the sires and sirra’s we are not afraid,”

zipping the thickly padded flak vest  he checked his data-pad, a handful of updates from Sala that the Unchained was prepping to leave in half an hour, and Captain Thun on Glottal that the Artemis workers and Hades cannons had arrived and were being installed that very moment.

Still no further update from their Mak’tor allies or Trynt Saar’s smugglers on the extra supplies - they would have to dip into the stores, replenish them with what they received.

It hardly mattered soon they would have the Industrial wealth of Hypori behind them.

And it was all thanks to Jal’ina, risking her sisters life for this critical intelligence.

He turned to kiss her once more.

“This will truly be a great day for us…” he paused taking her hand
“...and I do not speak of the Sons’s when I say Us,” he clarified with a smile.

<<<<>>>>

Ry

The buzzer woke them from an all too brief reverie in the cramped room.

Buzzers, she should say, both of their local comms were beeping with orders to report to different hangar’s ready for deployment.

“It really is non stop…” Ken sighed as Ry lay with her head on his chest,

“It’s more than that…it feels…” she replied holding tighter to him.

“There were always things about the Sons I didn’t like but I could live with…but keeping slaves working, ransacking volunteers bunks…” she could see from there her neatly repacked possessions, but the small basin still smelled of her handful of cosmetics squeezed out in search of any illicit comms devices, pockets on a flight jacket hanging in the tiny closet still inside out.

“...it feels wrong,”

“I know…something if off about the whole thing…” he closed his eyes just listening with the force, simple and passive as a teidowan first learning to feel the Force, he took in the undiluted Truth of the beats and harmonies around him.

They were a heady mix of expectation, fear, hope, trepidation, rage, serenity and distraction, deception…but where…he couldn’t pinpoint it…Maker! his Father would be able to, but Ken just wasn’t that strong or experienced

She felt his skin suddenly cool, his breathing and heart beat still, knowing he was in some kind of Force trance. 

Rolling off Ry swept up her singlet over her head then shuffled on her boots as she left Ken to his meditation, it was hard sometimes to feel him so far away even when pressed against him, connecting to a vast power she could never truly understand, only catch the occasional glimpse of, usually in a feeling of dread, but occasionally one of joy as when he had Sung with the Force to her on Csilla.

By the time he opened his eyes again she was already dressed.

“Sense anything?” she asked trying to keep any annoyance at the break in their fleeting moments together from her voice and probably failing.

“No…Sorry…sometimes the Force just…wants to be heard,”

She smiled with slight sadness on her dark blue lips, tying her hair back
“Even if it doesn’t tell you much?”

“Especially then,” he half chuckled, she was right, the Force wasn’t telling him anything more than what with his own eyes and ears could learn, but it still insisted on telling him all the same.

Tightening her belt she was ready to walk into the fire again, but feeling ever more jaded and unconvinced it would really be helping the cause she had come here to further.

“Who knows where we’ll be sent to this time…” she wondered with a resigned breath.

“Hopefully just a run of the mill raid, knock out some fighters, board some ships, free some slaves,” he replied hopefully, the higher Strategic aims of their last missions seeming ever further from the Sons true calling troubled him as well.

They both understood the pressures, the need for supplies and Scrubber commitment to playing a long game.  But that didn’t make the dissonance here and now any easier.

“I hope so…” she turned to face him, resting her head once more on his chest as he wrapped his arms round her, their breathing syncing together as they held the moment as long as they could.

“Take care Probie,” as she whispered the words scratchy note out of time and place echoed through the otherwise harmonious song between them, an intrusion from without upon their inner world.

Ry flinched slightly as they parted, even if she didn’t ‘hear’ she could still feel the effect of the Note.

They hoped it was just the anxiety of the now and not a warning for the future.

<<<<<>>>>

[TheDutchman]

Even given Zann's more hedonistic proclivities, we see just why his Consortium is such a successful organization, first off being the man himself.  Like any good dejarik master, Zann's attention is completely on the entire board, planning multiple moves in advance.  And though Scrubber is usually up to the task, it seems that he is more...distracted of late, not only making decisions absent full confirmation but also trusting said unverified intel as a matter of fact.  Not only that, but with the Sons fracturing from within, the Zann Consortium is operating with singular intent, the disparate groups of the Consortium working in concert (an excellent example of "more than the sum of its parts"). 

If that wasn't bad enough, the Consortium's enforcer is also one of the best strategists of the galaxy, as feared as any Sith (not to mention easily as dangerous): Urai Fen.  As the unfortunate Mak'Tor Relief Force finds out, Fen's reputation and skill aren't commensurate with rumor; he's much, much better.  So much so, perhaps Black Armor has finally found his/her match in individual combat/tactics/lethality. 

Balancing this, both Ken and Ry are caught between the breakdown in the Sons and the Consortium's almost prescient ambushes as momentum continues to favor Zann&Urai.  Yet it's telling that they both continue to display hope in the future and their respective parts in it.  Consequently, it is this exact hope that can heal much (not all) within the Sons, helping to repair not only the damage done but also help turn the inexorable tide that Zann's forces seem to be enjoying.

The question then becomes: can it be done in time?

Meta-note: Urai Fen is SCARY-GOOD (bad?  )!  And just how far does the betrayal of the Sons' logistical network extend?  It seems that Zann's current "Big Score" runs DEEP into the Sons organization, not to mention just how exposed (and tempting a target) their main offensive/defensive/psychological platform is in the form of the stranded ISD Justicar.

...And I can only think that things are about to go from bad to worse...

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 9 – Best Laid Plans - Part 1

Second Battle of Glottal

“This won’t be enough,” he whispered half to himself on the battlements of the Citadel Akropoli of Glottal, the enormous empty fortress stretching out on every side impossible to garrison with less than a million men.

Even with 400 troops the citadel's huge towers and innumerable cannon emplacements couldn’t all be manned properly.

“Problem Ken?” Harm asked as they walked toward the newest installation, one of the Hades Megamaser cannons a twelve meter long conglomerate of black metal and hellfire energy that seemed barely stable on the tiled platform aimed just past past the grey triangle of the Justicar that sat in atmosphere overhead - from what Ken had overheard since arriving on Glottal it was because the ship couldn’t actually move rather than strategic positioning - something about no, or worse contaminated, reactor coolant.

“Just saying I don’t think we will have enough troops to defend the Citadel if the Consortium makes planetfall in numbers,” Ken admitted honestly having learnt by now Harm appreciated candor.

“True enough, we just have to hope the big guns stop anything getting through,”

A humm reverberated through Ken’s head as they got closer, Scaari, at last cleared for ‘light duties’ squealed uncomfortably, both envying the Artemis techs shielded thick work helmets that no doubt kept out the awful thrumm.

The Cannon was positioned on one of several dozen hexagonal platforms that spiralled level upon level out from the citadels main power creating petals of weapons emplacements that never overlapped to ensure the cannons on each could fire at any target from the ground at the far edge of the horizon where the Akropoli ended, or in space. 

“Capfffan Harm,” One of the workers half saluted to him face hidden but accent strong

“Fa cannon is conneffed, buff the energy requiremenf is higher fan we fought,”

“How many shots,” Ranger 1’s leader looking too well suited to the black storm trooper armour asked running a gloved hand through his streaked back tight cropped dark hair, minor cuts from Dilbana patched by bacta tape on his face.

“fhree each at 75 per cen charge, or two at 100 per cen,”

“Damn, I’ll inform Captain Thun, Ken scope out the best location to set up our turret,” Harm ordered heading down one of the numerous hidden passage ways in the thick walls around the edge of the cannon platform to contact the Justicar’s captain.

Ken did as asked, Yekeht and Hosto bringing up the large cannon they hoped they didn’t need, Dhul still suffering some internal injuries from Dilbana staying with the TIE Phantom as part of a back up fighter defence.

“Scaari you right to operate the cannon?” the Knight asked as he locked the bolts to fix the cannon to the tripod.

“I can reach,” he snivvian nodded

“Let’s hope we don’t need it,” Ken sighed

“We Agree…hrrrmmm…” can a growl from behind him that could only be Ravge.  For his size the Gen’dai could be surprisingly quiet

The huge leader of Brute squad strode beside Ken staring over the slowly decaying fortress towers and bunkers that stretched almost to the horizon.

“This smells wrong,” the Gen’Dai sniffed
“You know that Jedi,”

Ken nodded, something did feel off, the Song was disrupted, uncertain, and still that broken chord
 

<<<<>>>>

Captain Thun wore his scars proudly.  The Ikotchi stood firm on the bridge of the Justicar, horns mere stumps, skin glossy from burns on his face, right arm absent, but his mind keen as he waited for the attack.

Scrubber estimated the attack any time within the next 12 hours, reinforcements in the form of Brutes, Rangers and Liberators had only arrived 5 hours earlier, hopefully too late for a Consortium force en-route already to get any advanced notice if a spy was among them.

His one regret was not being able to take the Justicar into the fight as the maintenance crews, despite their best efforts, they hadn’t been able to refill the reactor coolants, their small scale purifiers were online, but were far too few to supply the Imperial Star Destroyers vast needs quickly.

“Captain first contact, 8th satellite,” the words came through the earless hole on the right side through which he could still hear, lucky he could even do that. 

While some of his scars were from beating, most of the damage to his body had been done when a fuel truck exploded in the sweat shop he worked in.  He had petitioned the Seven for the succour of death then, and many days after.  But his ‘owner’, the disgusting vile creature, had simply put him to work elsewhere, crewing one of the haulers. 

It was there he had been saved by the Sons, volunteering as soon as he was offered the chance.  They had done what they could but reconstructive surgery was expensive, and time consuming, he set his keen mind to the task of the Cause, taking responsibility first for supply runs, then small raids, and now the Justicar itself.

“Keep me informed,” he replied his left hand tapping on his thigh.

“More contacts deeper in system, seven…no eight, three fighter sized one 200 meters,”

Long range comms jamming with a small escort, he quickly surmised

“Shall we send the Phantoms?” his first officer a steady headed Quarren, Boltok asked

“Not yet, let’s see their full hand before we play ours,”  And my, did he have many cards to play.

“Send the order to the Akropoli, begin charging the cannons, Tactical get our guns online and aimed high,” he spoke and it was done

“Incoming contacts Capital ships at 18,000 kilometers!” The ship became alive with activity and motion Thun keeping his gaze tight as holographs of the vessels appeared.  Just as expected it was a full attack fleet, led by a Mandalmotors Keldabe Battleship.

The optimal range of the Hades Ground to space cannons was 10,000 kilometers, the more conventional Turbo lasers half that, both could fire ten times that distance, but with decent scanners then enemy ships could maneuver out of the shots paths, and the generators hastily installed at the Akropoli to power the vast weapons didn’t allow them to try and ‘herd’ the enemy vessels.

“Ground crews pick targets, focus on the Aggressors, the Justicar batteries will deal with the Battleship,”

He held back on ordering the rest of the fleet that was waiting behind Glottals second satellite to micro jump, he wanted them trapped between the Sons fleet and the ground cannons.

“Hold fire until they are in 12,000 kilometers,”

“We’re detecting transport launches, several dozen,” Boltok called his flipped to his audition piece.
“No escort we can detect,”

Thun frowned as best as his fire ravaged face would allow, that didn’t make sense, you didn’t launch a landing party that far out, they would be eviscerated by the Justicar’s fighters and cannons.

“Watch out for cloaked vessels, we know they use them,” at current speed it would be just over 12 minutes before the enemy was in range, hopefully more than enough time for Black Armour to launch whatever ‘special weapons’ he had in store. 

And at any moment the Consortiums second fleet was sure to arrive as Scrubbers informant had advised.

Till then he had only one order.

“Steel your nerves sirra’s, the battle is about to begin,”

<<<<>>>>

Battle of Hypori

[/img]

Ry sank back in to her seat as the Sons Fleet slid out of pseudomotion in tight formation, TIE Phantoms already in system having confirmed the Consortium fleet had departed nearly 12 hours before, by the shortest path the enemy would be an hour out from Glottal, meaning by the time word reached them of the attack, it would be too late.

The vast grey expanse of the Unchained’s underbelly was her sky, the mottled brown of Hypori her ground as she leaned forward, the TIE defender responding to her motions as fluidly as her own limbs, the Targeting computer streaming information on Sledge squads target, a large Malignance Class Consortium Space stations in geo-sync above the Droid and Arms factories.

That set Ry’s already troubled feeling spiking, intel had said there were two Malignance Stations over Hypori.  Where was the second?

The thought worried Colonel Sala on the Unchained as well, the expressionless naval officer unsure whether this was a boon, or the sign of some greater trap, already.

She looked beside her where Scrubber was in a predatory mood, unphased by the change in opposition. Whatever her misgivings they were already committed to this.

<Accelerate to 250, shields double front> Loftharr ordered as Sledge, Mallet and Hammer sped ahead of the Unchained to engage, a squadron of TIE interceptors designated ‘Mace’ behind them.

The Phantoms, cloaked and still at key positions relayed the scattering of Star Vipers vectors as the first shots from the Unchained slammed the Malignance shields at an impressive distance. If possible they wanted to take the Space station intact to use for their own occupation of Hypori.   

The Defenders outpaced the Interceptors and the capital ships that worked their way into position to provide a rear guard and escort for the Unchained as it worked its way more slowly forward.

She flicked her cannons to a rapid fire setting, the Vipers were fast but their shields comparatively brittle, enough hits made them ‘jolt’ and the Viper wings could be easily knocked by a lower powered shot from a Defender’s strong cannons.

Yellow streaks of anti-fighter fire came overhead and to the left at the Defenders squads from the Space station in advance of the Vipers, another ping indicating a few blast boats had also launched, they had to watch for missile locks from the ordinance full ships. 

When fighters moving at 200ks were on head on courses the situation changed from stable to frantic in an instant.

The Vipers green fire cut across the dark brown Hypori night sky as the Defenders evaded then rounded swiftly to fire back, Tu-Tu taking a fast early kill firing a concussion missile by feel rather than using the targeting computer, fragments of the Viper spiralling in all directions.

Ry kept herself close to Shorykam, Sledge squad divided into pairs, one Defender armed with Concussion missiles, the other Mag-Pulse Torpedoes to disable the station, weaving up and over his fighter to protect his steady progress into missile lock range as Mallet Squadron tied up the Vipers, the Defenders greater speed and shield strength proving the difference.

An angry chime alerted her to a missile lock, forcing her to spin out in a roll as the Blastboats got into range.

“Hammer moving to engage,” came over the comm as the Interceptors caught up giving them numbers against the Viper, Loftharr managing to scratch another as he escorted Teiro.

Hammer squad peeled off toward the Blastboast dodging more shots from the Malginance Station that were getting a little too close for comfort, the Unchained’s Next salvo of three shots scoring two heavy hits on the Consortium Space fortress shields.

Scanner bleeped as Vipers not so much retreating as weeping back to Sledge squads rear as they sped past.

“Shorykam press ahead, I’ll intercept,” she commed, feeling the weight of the ship as she spun into a loop back round, down toward the tips of the Vipers.

A satisfying thzump accompanied the pull of her trigger as her thumb flicked the missile lock, the targeter tracing a yellow outline on one Viper as her shots chased another.   

The Lethal Dancer of Kashyyyk used his Chiss sisters cover to line his shot carefully, taking his time as Teiro angled up, Loftharr the Clever Flyer taking his third mark for the day.  With only two Mag-pulse torpedoes that did little physical damage but unleashed a heavy electromagnetic pulse, each had to hit the Malignance at critical junctions and after the Unchained had downed the shields.

Ry banked hard as two vipers caught her in a pincer, they knew what was up, alarmas burst again as a blastboat sought a missile lock on Teiro, the Mirlian quick to dodge but getting hemmed in by the Malignance anti fighter fire, the first shots scraping off his shields.

Making full use of the Defenders mobility and speed she corkscrewed through and past Teiro breaking the missile lock by passing through its path buying time for him to line up core systems as the shields of the Space Fortress flickered off for a moment after the latest salvo from the Unchained  Colonel Sala commanding careful not do any structural damage on what they hoped to capture.

Laser blasts rumbled her rear deflectors, one shot clipping the edge of her lower right wing, with a grunt she glided the stick port feeling the slight sluggishness of her turn - the Defenders maneuverability it seemed was more fragile than she thought.

Coming round she peppered more shots trying to reline a missile lock, trusting in Tu-tu and Hammer squad to target rid of the last of the blast boats. 

Fire from the Malignance began to intensify too, the Vipers trying to get them into the skill zone, she had to give them credit, celery outnumbered and outgunned the Consortium pilots were making the best use of what they had, likely well aware in the cold calculus of war the loss of a squad of TIE Defender was a bigger blow to the Sons than a few Vipers for Zann.

Twisting through the fire zone they tried to catch her in Ry pushed the TIE to its limit, the bolts on the hull seeming to unscrew as she pulled turns at 250km that would shred most fighters apart, rounding on a Viper at last, not wasting a moment she trigger the concussion missiles, the red flare of the booster filling her screen briefly, the Viper twisted and managed to swap shields double side before it hit.

It didn’t survive the laser fire she pumped into the explosion, then bashing through the wreckage shields double front, the mess of ruin and speed denying the other Viper a clean shot.

With a weightlessness inducing loop she came round on the Viper lasers blaring, ignoring the Maliginance gunner hit to her rear starboard stabiliser for the moment to hit the Viper three times dowing the shields, two more shots tearing off its upper right wing, then scraping dangerously close as she over shot.

As she came around Shorykam took his first shot at one of the marks analysts of the Stations power network had designated as prime target, the blue magpulse firing out in parallel to a shot from the Unchained as he quickly spun to the next target, loosing it with manual aim before anti-fighter fire force him to pull away, his shields bearing the brunt.

Teiro moved in behind launching his own first shot as the Turbo laser shot hit, the Shield flickering dead and the wookies first missile impacting with a crackling web of blue energy that spread over an curved section of the Malignance, Teiro’s shot aimed at a likely secondary reactor nearby hit clean too, a small blast and minor hull damage followed by an electric web that linked with the first. 

Shorykam’s second torpedo miss timed hit the hastily reactivated shields as Ry slammed her reverse thrusters to do a hard 180 and open up on the damaged Viper, sending it’s pilot into the void with a shot straight through the engine and out the cockpit.

“Deploy the boarding teams,” Sala ordered, while only half the station was offline that was more than enough, rounding the ‘dead’ side the transports could avoid fire as the last Vipers retreated further back.

“Sledge, Mallet clean up those blast boats, Hatchet pull back to escort the Transports,”

Ry wriggled her wings testing the stabilizers as she formed up with Sledge, a little slow and veering to the left but nothing she couldn’t compensate for.

So far, so good.

<<<<>>>>

 

Eurydice Base

“Another week at least,” Wolfe insisted to Ash’s groan

“Even with a healing motif these things take time, you’re not Karmack” he added with a patriarchal sternness mingled with a slight dig at the Master Singers reputed extraordinary healing abilities

“No, much prettier,” she quipped as Wolfe recorded the details of his inspection on his pad and she sat up pivoting round so her feet dangled off the bed wriggling her toes as if Wolfe’s test weren’t enough.

So far there had been no word from either task group - and worse no word from Tym and the Marines after the last communique indicating they had to take a detour around an active skirmish between Republic and Imperial Forces near Ryloth

 Eurydice base unusually quiet apart from the regular patrols of Liberator Troops and Brutes. Scrubber was really going all in on this one.

“Oh Jal’ina can you redress Knight Lem’s wound,” Wolfe asked as a Zeltron nurse walked past with a slight haste.

Ash rolled her eyes at the formal title, the Zeltron kept moving

“Forgiveness Doctor, my break just commenced and I require the refresher,” Jal’ina replied, her lustrous dark blue hair tied back tightly.

Wolfe’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t think much of it,

“That’s fine, I’ll do it, back on the bed,”

Ash pivoted back up as he set to work with the Pulse Wave steriliser.

She stared up at the industrial ceiling wondering how Ken was getting on, he seemed to have a bit of his fathers do-gooder attitude, but was at least humble about it.

“Doc how has Ken been go…” her question was ended by the earth shaking tremor and ear popping echo of an explosion.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 9 – Best Laid Plans - Part 2

Battle of Hypori

The Zann Consortium did not have a monopoly on Battle droids.

Screeching from the Raider 2’s 30 Dark Trooper Mark 3.5’s, prototypes gifted by Artemis Industries, now superseded by the now in production Mark IV ‘Kage Killers’, descended from the low flying corvettes with a barrage of their Plasma assault rifles - the overpowered weapons shredding chunks from the scattered Mercenaries positions as they found themselves without effective cover from above.

The Dark Trooper landed on top of the Droidekas, Plex Turrets and Flak Cannons, smashing them to pieces then rushing those nearby. Droideka were mass produced, conventional metal and weaponry, simplistic kill command orders.

The Artemis droids were of a different nature, emphasising supreme quality over quantity.  Built of Ultradense materials, designed to outhink and outfight Force trained warriors, and bludgeon anything else into death, they shredded through the droidekas.

The Mark 3.5’s were faster, stronger and more agile than the curved droids, the Destroyers lasers effective against infantry were inconsequential to the Phrik plating of the Dark Troopers, all they had were numbers, and those were dwindling rapidly.

The mercenaries expecting Liberator Troops found themselves ill equipped for the fast merciless machines, that even with limbs blown off kept clawing toward them.

The Dark Troopers fired their micro missiles into the Infantry support platforms and smaller vehicles, blasting half a dozen into deadly shrapnel that killed any Mercenaries nearby, their Plasma cannons tore cover positions and bodies behind them apart.

The Canderous tanks had to take the fight to them, their turrets turning to unleash their mass drivers on the Dark troopers - still the incredible speed of the Kage killer droids ensured many dodged - but not all. 

The Dark Troopers were powerful but too few, one of every six shots from the tanks and now the mobile pulse cannons began to hit, starting thirty the Dark troopers were down to 10 within a matter of minutes.

But the time they had bought was crucial to allowing the Liberator regiments to push forward, claim cover points, and surround the Consortium forces from all sides, setting up their own artillery. Missile armed soldiers used the tanks diverted attention to blast two Canderous vehicles to burning shells.

In their midst a voice of hope and encouragement drove them forward.

“Forward! We are nearly there Sirra’s!”
Scrubber stood atop the ruin of an assault tank beneath the grimy brown smogs of Hypori looking over the vast industrial foundries, labyrinths of pipes and smoke stacks, metal tarnish rust orange.

Sledge and Hammer squads zipped overhead, the ubiquitous TIE screech following seconds after then the pump of laser cannons as they tore apart the two dozen or so Vipers launched from the ground.

Leaping down he fired into the retreating mercenaries, they were leaping over and under pipe work and machinery to large grimy blast doors others were quickly trying to close even as Droideka’s rolled out to be blasted down by Liberator Charric weapons teams who had learned the lessons of Dilbana and now knew how to overwhelm the killer droids.

Scrubber stepped over a fallen Dark Trooper, the expensive, most likely irreplaceable droids had done their job perfectly, saving dozens of lives by pummelling the heart of the Consortium ground defences quickly and viciously.

“Remember Dilbana!” Scrubber added to the shouts “Avenge our Sisters! Honour our Brothers!”

Pressure from a half dozen AT-PTs’ forced their left flank to take cover behind a long line of air circulators, the anti infantry mechs wisely held back until the Dark troopers were out of the way.  But the Sons had air superiority, the Duro Liberator Sergeant quickly calling in Sledge squad to come about, Teiro and Ry unleashing a blanket of laser fire to burst three apart, PLEX armed troops taking the rest.

Satisfied every side was covered, the Zeta transport landing zone secure, medics and support workers ready to assist any saves they found in the factory, Scrubber pushed on as the blast doors closed with a puff of air.

“Bring one of those Pulse cannons around, blast it open,” he ordered the Liberator Comms-officer beside him who relayed the message, A5-RX tanks they had brought circling round to take the remaining AT-PT’s from behind. The Consortium would still have more armoured units overall, but without Hypori they would have no ability to repair or replace them.

Liberators poised up as a captured MZ-8 Pulse cannon was brought up to the Blast doors, the heavy weapon aimed straight at them began it whirring charge that set teeth on edge.

“Anything from Glottal?” he asked the Rodian comms officer Faari Los, the Liberators sanctioned finger worked with delicate speed over the Rodian Scrambler his voice an incomprehensible whistle of his clan’s unique variant of Rodian near indecipherable, the entire clan having been rescued from abalone-wet works years before now serving as battlefield comms officers.   

<No contact,>

The first Pulse blast smashed into the door, leaving an almost artistic pink and blue that faded to black, the durasteel crumpling inwards slightly, likely it would take five or six more shots.

“Let us hope they are having equal success.”

<<<<>>>>

Second Battle of Glottal

At 272 Kelvin most humanoids would find the ship uncomfortable, the lack of radiation shielding and indeed intensity of ionization radiation put out intentionally by the ship's lights would make it fatal.

For the lone occupant it was poor imitation of an Alpine World in the Deep core.

Black Armour sat in absolute silence gently guiding his cloaked ship toward the Keldabe Class Battleship, the insignia on the side reading Medley of Torment, others of his kind would find that ironic.

The stygium cloaking fields were active, but if any faction had the means to detect such a vessel it was surely the Consortium given their use of similar -if more clunky - technology, his concentration was thus on projecting a Veil of Mist in the Aether around the ship, the hulls ultra-dense material yielding to his demand to assist in the otherwise impossible individual effort.

He heard the crisp focused words of Captain Thun as they prepared, weapons were charged, targets locked, fighters scattering to intercept the odd early deployment of landing craft.

And still there was no sign of the Consortium's second fleet, but it was still well within the estimated range of arrival from Hypori, most likely the Consortium planned a double play, to spring whatever trap the Sons had laid and then bring them in as an Ambush.  A tit for tat that would not go Zann’s way once Black Armour used the weapon held so lightly in the port torpedo launcher.

The size of a child’s Funf-ball, a perfectly spherical mirror sheen Terror Orb. 
Launched telekinetically, once activated every unshielded mind within 300 meters would endure paranoid hallucinations or coma inducing nightmares.

His target - the Medley of Torments Bridge, he could be no more than 400 meters away to ensure the orb hit and detonated, he couldn’t trigger such an Aether weapon at the distances his wife and daughters might.

Gliding slowly on a diagonal over the rear and above the Battleship, readouts indicated mere seconds from reaching Thuns firing range.

Once deployed and the Terror wave spent he would mag lock his ship to the Medley, cut his way through, slaughter the babbling bridge crew, take control of the ship and send his four Mark IV Dark Troopers to deal with the rest of the crew and marines while he used the Consotrium fleets best vessel against them. 

The Second Consortium fleet would arrive to find utter chaos, and have nowhere to retreat to except Hypori which, if not already, would soon have the Unchained waiting for them.

Super human mind computed all the variables and distances, he reached out to grasp the Orb in his mind, feeling the contained Fear Inducing Psychic weight press back.

Trill bleeps of Chiss based alarms alerted him as two blobs of metal appeared between the Consortium fleet and the planet right at the edge of Thun’s preferred range.

On the Justicar Thun at first thought it the Consortiums second fleet until a quick visual proved otherwise.

Sixteen Automated Hyper Tugs, eight a piece, pulled two Malignance Class 5 Space Fortresses out of Hyperspace dangerously close to the planet, their guns bristling and creaking as the gravity dragged at them before Mass generators on board could compensate and right them.

Rigid struts connecting the tugs blew off with micro charges, the thick beams floating down the gravity well to burn in the planet's atmosphere.

Black armour’s head tilted, an impressive and creative effort, it trapped the Justicar - not that it could leave - even further, and would even divert a few of the Hades cannon shots, but with the Medley under his control the Sons would soon adapt.

He tugged the Terror Orb out of its case ready to fling into the Keldabe class Batt….

With a massive jolt his ship shook and buckled as the Medley and the entire Consortium fleet Cold Jumped at the edge of the gravity well - the displacement wave smashing his vessel around, and him from his seat, radiation and magnetic pulses from the jump of such a large vessel so close scrambling all but the most well insulated of systems.

The black ship bounced and trashed like a gormin calf in the jaws of a Vorynx as if to shake the life out of him. 

His eponymous armour took the brunt but the ship was in an uncontrollable spin until he could wrest control, taking him out of whatever battle would now follow for sometime. 

Thun stared at the sky with utter perplexity, his remaining hand raised about to clench into a fist to order the first salvo wavered indolent as all his targets vanished…all except…

“Captain…83 Transports on approach,” 

<<<<>>>>

Eurydice Base

“Get Behind the White LINES!” Wolfe yelled as every nurse and patient rushed toward the far end of the room.

The distant thump of blaster fire was getting closer and closer.

The large mesa on which the base was located - covered in foliage, jutting rock columns, even a few waterfalls - was now spewing unnatural smoke from the sight of an explosion - F9-TZ Transports with their cloaks active skimmed through the network of towering rock spires to pour into what was once a well hidden bay entrance.

In Queen hangar Brutes and Liberators fired all they could into the ships, but none could stop them disgorging Mercenaries and Droideka’s, even a few Infantry Support Platforms to secure the cavernous bay.

A toll was paid for each Son killed. But paid it was - before the Defilers in crimson plate led their troops into the base proper, descending into the dozens of sublevels behind clouds of toxic gas and carbonite micro missiles that would freeze body parts painfully and irreversibly.

“Shav!” Ash grunted as she hobbled behind the thick White line Wolfe was pushing her toward, fumbling in her bag for her saber, hating the idea she might have to use it.

The Mercenaries were fast and focused, avoiding strong points the Liberators were fortifying as trained in response to an invasion, as if they knew the layout despite the Sons' modification since occupying the base, avoiding the choke points and sending Droideka’s to hold up the Brutes scrambling in response.

Shouts and cries were just outside the wide blast doors as the nurses, doctors and patients huddled behind the white lines, Wolfe pulling a small cylinder with a single button from his pocket, his face dead serious as he stared at the door.

An ice screeching blast and the metal turned a weird grey-brown with carbonite before conventional blasters shattered the now brittle material apart.

Ash blade thrummed to life as shots came in through gap straight at them, bouncing them back where she could as Wolfe hit the button.

“Don’t step over the LINE!” he demanded of all his charges.

An innocuous door beside one of the numerous storage closets opened and a giant of bleak grey Phrik and Doonium stepped out, half hunched swinging a cannon as wide as Ash’s torso - and Artemis Industries Kage Killer Mark IV Dark Trooper, bulkier and better armoured than the 3.5’s its greatest edge was next generation adaptive learning combat software drawing on the combined databank of all Dark Troopers before it for optimal situational predictive behaviour response. .

Gas grenades were lobbed through the hole then crushed under the giants feet, its arm reaching through gap and pulling a Mercenary in by the crushed skull.

The Mark IV rammed the door open with a steely squeal and began killing every [Hostile] sparing only those living beings behind [Safety Lines 1,2,3 and 4].

Across the Base the Sons allies ‘Emergency Assistance’ protocol was activated, 15 Kage Killers sequestered in purpose built charging stations at key points moved to eliminate every sentient life form and moving droid not within pre-programmed safety zones - impossible to program to identify the myriad and ever growing Sons members as ‘friends’ it was a compromise solution, but not without its risks.

Plasma cannons blasted Droideka’s apart with a single shot, Defilers were rammed into craters in the duracrete floors - but Mercenaries who had overrun marked positions were ignored, and those Sons unlucky enough to be caught out of a safe zone immolated with equal indifference to the Consortium troops.

Gas and radiation weapons wielded by Mercenaries to kill sentients were of little use, but carbonite missiles and frag mines slowed the hulking droids as their legs were targeted. 

The furthest Consortium advance reach the ‘Mainframe’, carbonite cracking the doors to the Celegian trio open only to be met by a back-missile straight into a Mercenaries gut, blasting him and half his squad into fragments, the Defiler unable to stand before the Mark IV tore head from neck.

Smoke choked the entire facility as ventilation fans and air-chutes were shut down, Wolfe tentatively crossing the White Line to grab respirators and masks for the most vulnerable patients, hoping that the Friend Foe identifiers M’Tzigon used for their Dark Troopers had been uploaded to the ones here, he saw Ash eyes closed head in her hands as he came back.

“What’s wrong?” he called over the echoes of distant fighting as the Liberators swept in to counter attack in the wake of the Dark trooper brutal assaults.

“Damn Song…those Mercs are up to something…”

“Probably taking documents, datapad and intel…” Wolfe grunted, Ash’s reply was grim.   

“No…Not what they’re taking…what they are leaving behind…”

Among the dead outside Big -Brain was a large Mercenary demolitions specialist with a heavy backpack, absent his head, a smoking ruin as he slumped against the wall. 

Unnoticed by the Kage Killer, inside his pack the first of two Baradium bombs awaiting an imminent trigger.

<<<<>>>>

[TheDutchman]

From Glottal, to Hypori, and to Eurydice Base, the stakes for both the Consortium as well as the Sons continues to increase, each one demonstrating their martial prowess and logistical resources.  Yet it seems that for every move that Scrubber (and now even Black Armor) makes, Tyber Zann&Urai Fen already have a countermove in play.  And all the while the respective butcher's bill grows steadily larger.

With two groups so closely matched, the minutiae of ships and personnel are anything but; it is within these data tables that we see what is on the line, how each group responds, and how either can be defended...or exploited.

One specific item of note are the Sons' "Kage-killer" Mark IV Darktroopers.  Jurisprudence dictates that the majority would be used in defense of the Sons' main base; current event being what they are have certainly justified that decision.  But the problem remains: for every expectation that is planned for, there is always one that canNOT be...

Meta-note: More tight action and more surprises...on both sides!  However, it seems that the Sons have only been reacting to the Zann Consortium's offensives instead of being able to blunt--and hopefully fully turn back--their multiple assaults. 
But one point that I HAVE to bring up: I really, REALLY love the two TO&Es that LSG has provided (ESPECIALLY for a "stats nut" like myself  )!

OK, I don't see how Ken, Scrubber, & the Sons are getting out of this one...

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 10 – End of Days - Part 1

 

Second Battle of Glottal

“Extend the shields!” Thun yelled as he staggered on the deck, the Malignance Fortresses raining down fire onto the Justicar and the Akropoli’s unshielded Citadel, already two Turbo laser batteries had been blown away

The Zann fleet had seemingly dumped 83 transports - now on a rapid course to the Akropoli - and the Malignance Fortresses then left. 

Worse there was a Long Range Communication jammer somewhere further out in the system preventing them warning the Unchained Battle Group that things were not proceeding as expected.

“Bring the Fleet around, we need those Fortresses blown up or shut down,” the Ikotchi growled righting himself, refusing assistance from Boltok, the First officer swiftly ensuring the orders were followed.

“All TIE’s launch, take down as many of those Transports as possible,”  The vessels seemed on a suicidal approach to the Akropoli, at first they thought them Fire ships of some kind, but initial reading showed them crammed with life signals.

Ken could feel them as he looked up through squinting eyes as two pinprick flecks of metal fired green beams straight onto the Justicar and the Akropoli, fortunately many shots went wide, but some were hitting the petal like balconies that supported the Turbo lasers.

“Target Lock confirmed, FIRE!” a Devaronian Liberator yelled.  The air became hot and static filled as the Hades Cannon fired, rumbling the balcony, Ken and Hosto lurching to the murky Green Citadel wall for support.

The blazing Red energy and kinetic beam broke the sound barrier easily as it went straight for the Malignance Fortress on the ‘left’, three other Ground to Space Turbo lasers firing in precise coordination a half a second later to take advantage of any shield flicker the Hades shot caused.

Thun saw the beams pass by the Justicar view port then snapped his head over the command trench to look at the Targeting Computers read out.  The pixels showed the Hades shot hitting just ahead of the Fortress on the thin line that indicated shields, then the three turbo lasers punching straight through.

Any relief at a successful first salvo was ended when the ‘right’ Malignance next barrage fell to port, a massive creaking explosion audible even hundreds of kilometers above as the TIEs rushed to the upper atmosphere.

“Sir…we’ve lost one of the Hades…” Boltok confirmed, the Quarrens' facial tentacles dead straight, the species' unconcealable physical manifestation of anxiety.
He turned back to his consol, ear bud screeching in the first officers audi-curves.
“Secondary explosions have also destroyed another Turbo laser.”
That left them with only 5 Tubrolasers having started with 8, and two more shots on the remaining Hades.

The fleet would soon arrive to fire on the Malignance Forts from space at a safe distance, but they were thickly armoured and shielded, without the Hades it would be a slog….and the Zann fleet could reappear at any moment.

“Cleaver squad engaging!” the TIE Defender leader called over the comm that echoed through the Justicar’s bridge.

Meido Llm’ar glided his fighter toward a cluster of 6 transports, weaving deftly between their obviously poorly automated fire from two twin-laser turrets.   

At the closer scan range he detected at least 200 beings on board, minimal shields, no hyperdrive, as his concussion missile began to lock there was no evasive maneuver, the Transports just kept plunging toward the Akropoli as it intent on capturing the Citadel by climbing a mountain of their own dead to scale it.

As the Pantoran’s squad lined up their own shots, one further thing perplexed him, what was the rounded bulge on the underside with a pivoting circular opening now turning toward them?

Thumb flicking the missile release as the targeting overlay turned red the bulging add-on to the transport spewed out its own weapons, over a dozen small balls in half a second as the concussion missile and the Cleaver squads fire blasted four transports off course into burning spiralling wrecks.

Each had released dozens of the small objects that now cracked open like metal eggs revealing micro drones that swarmed at the TIE Defenders.

Zann had reasoned that a dozen 500 credit Mark Three Pistoeka sabotage droids, upgraded from their Mark One Clone wars era ancestors with micro repulsors and HIVE-6 Swarming coordination software was a good investment to bring down a 400,000 credit TIE Defender.

Banking hard Llm’ar spread shield evenly over the ship as he pulled away from the Transports, the others in the wave now firing their own protective swarms of Pistoeka.

“The frell are those thing!” Ttchun called out
“Buzz droids!” the gnarled Yubu answered “Ain’t seen them in years, keep yer distance or they’ll”

“They’re on me!” Ansi yelled her Defender swinging wildly trying to shake two of them, their bladed magnetized claw feet digging in as  plasma cutters began digging into the frame, one of them crawling to the top hatch rapidly sending sparks into her cockpit.

Ttchun tried to pull back and shoot them off but the Defenders complex wing arrangement made it too dangerous, Ansi forced to eject flying past Llm’ar

“Keep your distance from the transports! The droids shouldn’t be as fast as us!”  they could take down the transports at a greater distance if needed…but not nearly as many before they reached the Akropoli.

“Groundfall!”  And the first one had just landed.

Liberator troops and six Brutes defending the recharging Turbo laser readied as the Transport skidded to a halt next to it.

The door was pushed open as soon as the lock disengaged from the inside, a spill of bodies, sullustan, gran, human, gungan, Twi’leki, flopping out - all naked except for a metal device stitched onto their chests, tubes from it pumping a vile dark version of each species native blood to their limbs and back.

Shambling up they screeched with ragged sore throats and began rampaging toward the Sons and tearing at each other.  A few Liberators tried to stun, the Brute knew better and switched slug-throwers to pellets and fired into the crowd.

A trail of smoke and flame crashing into the Fortress was followed by another crashing transport near the Hades cannon, Ken and Ranger 1 ducking for cover as fiery metal shards burst over their heads. 

More naked beings were disgorged clambering over the bodies of their own dead fellows raving like lunatics.

“Vyponin!” Hosto hissed to Ken, the Nautolon’s sensitive tentacles ‘tasting’ the drug on their air.

He snapped up with some regret firing  his rifle into the crowd as the Cannon techs rushed for cover, Scaari turning his cannon to fire on them.

“What?” Ken yelled over the sudden cacophony of blaster fire his own E-11S firing

“Over-stimulate muscles, turn mind feral!” the taciturn Nautolon explained switching to rapid fire and thumping down more shots to keep the tide of rabid unclothed being back, their emaciation now clearly visible. 

Why would they do that to their own troops! was Ken’s immediate, thought…but that naivety was soon dispelled.

They wouldn’t, the naked hordes sacrificed on mass were slaves.

The Consortium was forcing the Sons of Kessel to kill drugged Slave Soldiers.

<<<<>>>>

 

Battle of Hypori

Liberators swept every corner, overturned any object they came across, EMP grenades were rolled down halls to disable any Droideka traps.

But there was nothing. Not just an absence of Mercenaries,but also no slaves, no workers.

One after another as they advanced 400 then 500 meters into the droid works, the radiant heat of molten metal reaching them through thick Industrial brown durasteel walls lit by off orange, the Sergeants and Officers of the Liberators realised something was very wrong.

“This can’t be…” Scrubber said his voice and stance wavering as they passed row upon row of conveyor belts, the tracks still turning but absent any manufactures.

Faari Los looked to his leader expecting a call to retreat, instead the Togruta all but fell to the floor rummaging beneath a conveyer belt, grabbing at some object beneath,

Scrubber pulled an old Battle Droids head, modelled on nemoidian skeletons it had long since turned brown and rust, yet the words ‘Vcgru’s Whore’ were just eligible in stinking yellow.

The Sons leader placed the droid's discarded head against his own.

This was the place..this was where he had Scrubbed…and Scrubbed…and Scrubbed…The Twi’leki woman, the Camaas, the Bothan’s, the Morgukai…it had been here.

“Scrubber this isn’t right we need to pull out and regroup!” Bussra, the Yinchorri Sergeant of Tomahawk Squad said, running up to him.

“Why here…why here…” Scrubber muttered

Bussra glanced to Faari who shrugged, their leader fascinating over a broken droid head., seemingly lost in his own mind at a critical juncture.

The sense of dread washed like waves, quickly reaching Ry as she broke atmosphere on her way back to the Unchained to resupply.

The anxious feeling that everything was teetering and about to collapse gave way to full blown nausea of a straight drop as comparatively tiny shards of metal appeared past the Triangular profile of the Sons ISD.

Colonel Sala stiffened her back as the alerts burst across the fleet.

She had placed her ships in a strong defensive formation, but that seemed to not matter a jot as scanners picked up capital ships arriving in two’s and threes.

Jerid Sykes stood in an almost perfect mirror of Sala’s pose on the bridge of his Keldabe Class Battleship End of Days, the full force of Ishtra fleet, assembling in a broad dome around the comparatively tiny Sons forces.

He had never been enroute to Glottal, only awaiting the landing of the Sons ground crews to ensure he could cut Fleet from army.

“Commence Engagement patter Dorn,” he ordered cooly.

Ry hit the accelerators in time with the rest of Sledge and Hammer Squads around her in time to see the mass driver cannons of the six cloaked Vengeance class Frigates unleashed.

Having learned the hard lessons from Dilbana the Sons Capital ships shields had all been re-modulated to better counter kinetic weaponry, the ballistics fired at 2km/s rapidly closed the gap but found stiffer resistance from the Succour, Haru-mel and Haru-Sol Shields, and the already alert gunners quick to fire directly at the triangulated launch point of the projectiles using new auto targeting algorithms developed by Big Brain after Dilbana.

The result was mutual destruction, the unshielded Vegnance frigates caught off guard and too slow to maneuver out of the way fully were punctured by lasers, the DP20 and Gonzati Light cruiser likewise ripped into by the projectiles.

Aggressor Star Destroyers charged their plasma shots as Star Vipers and Blast boats sprayed from them,  though heavily armoured the Aggressors were cumbersome, and with only one Turbo laser battery on each side needed to ensure the Sons fighters and faster capital ships didn’t get close.

That was exactly what Sala wanted to do. Her arms sweeping at the tactical holo overlay on the wide Transpaisteel screens as she issued orders.

“Fire on those energy signatures starboard batteries, Hopespring round to the Raiders and move in at the Side, All Defenders sequence to micro jump on these coordinates!”

Ry tensed as she waited for the navigational data to come through, a micro jump mid battle was always dangerous, even more so when they had already been flying for several hours, most of their ordinance spent, but a bold attack on the Aggressors could give them a quick edge.

Crackling green turbo lasers fired from the Unchained straight at the Aggressors prow, bashing into the forward shields as the Vengeance Class Frigates regrouped and fired the second round, Interceptors from the Succour and Nearby Mercy pushing their engines to get in close and rip into the unshielded ships, Consortium Corvettes nearby quickly moving to intercept.

The string of numbers came through just as the first plasma canon fired, helixing red-white energy coursing through the black of Space as Ry loaded the location points, hammered reverse thrust to kill forward momentum, killed sublights then twisted into position on remaining momentum alone before the stars spiralled for a brief few seconds then jagged out of daggers into dots and she felt herself thrown forward, harness cutting into her breast to keep her from flying forward.

Loftharr was already accelerating as her fingers moved swiftly over the controls to join him, Teiro and Shorykam just behind, as Hammer squad led by Tu-tu peeled off, the Gran flight leader looking especially predatory in his approach.

“We’ll take the fighters, you deal with the Agressors,” he called, they had dropped out ‘under’ and ‘behind’ the Vipers and Blast Boats, Hammer squad quickly using their last concussion missiles to score some easy kills of the unprepared fighters.

They only had Ry and Loftharrs remaining Concussion missiles as heavy ordinance, but the Defenders 6 Cannons could do some serious damage when Hex-linked, and from the initial scans the Aggressors shields were all full front to take the Unchained’s shots.

The first plasma blasts struck the Sons ISD, too large to miss and too slow to dodge, but Sala was determined not to be embarrassed by the Consortium twice.

“Halve power and double rate of fire at the Aggressors,” she wanted to make sure they couldn’t dedicate a watt to anything but forward shields to let the Defenders do their work.

Sykes remained nonplussed as he closed the net around the ISD, aware but not responding to the Raider II’s and second Gozanti coming in at his far left flank where the two Aggressors would be quite exposed to the speedy Raiders in particular.

Sledge squad made a full formation run along the back of the  Machete all 24 laser cannons ripping into the hull, as the nimble craft spun and dogged the point defence batteries, Teiro blasting one with a hex link shot, Loftharr landing a concussion missile into another, as they peeled off toward the Cleaver for an unbroken attack run they left scarred metal venting atmosphere along the ships side.

The Succour managed to down a Vengeance Frigate, the Interceptors cracking two more before having to pull back from the Crusader Corvettes that would shred the unshielded fast fighters.

They headed to the cover of the Nebulon B Mercy as the Haru-mel fired a last defiant spray at a vengeance frigate before the crew were forced to abandon ship, the mass driver cannons having cracked the reactor core, an explosion possible at any moment.

Another plasma shot slammed into the Unchained rattling the entire vessel, shields down to 20 per cent.  Meanwhile the End of Days remained unnervingly aloof from the battle.  If it moved in with the Aggressors the Unchained would be overwhelmed in minutes, what were they waiting for?

The Raiders gained ground on the Aggressors at the far edges of the Consortium line, the more nimble Corvettes quickly rounding the slower ships and sending out Mace and Mattock Defender squads to harass the Vipers, but not before making a run at the most isolated Aggressor.

Under concentrated fire from three Raiders, unable to charge the plasma cannon in time, the TIE Defenders of Mattock whisked round to pound the rear port of the ship with their cannons, Mattock 2 firing the last Proton Torpedo hitting true into the engines with a satisfying flare of white cracking the drive core from the ship and fracturing the hull.

Well aware of the Consortiums reputation of sending damaged ships critical in suicidal explosions they quickly pulled away straight into the oncoming Star Vipers, the jagged edged Consoritum fighter managing to blast on defender down, before Mattock could stabilise and evade.

The Battle could go either way from Sala’s view, if she could hold the centre, the Raiders, Defenders and Hopespring could chip away at the Aggressors, taking perhaps two more before they repositioned defensively.

The situation on the ground was completely against the Sons. 

As soon as the Ishtra Fleet arrived the counter attack began, hundreds of Droideka many still with steaming welds from recent completion and factory defects from lack of quality checks rolled at the handful of positions the Liberators had secured, behind them Defilers leading Mercenaries who had hidden deep in the factory underworks.

Scrubber was trapped in his own mind as experiences of his enslavement repeated on him as Bussra grabbed the Togruta in the fighting retreat, Faari’s mouth jittering in high pitched squeals calling for immediate extraction as squad markers began to flicker and fade on officers data-slates.

All around them Liberators were cut down by the sheer enormity of Droideka fire, Bussra cursing they had come to occupy and not obliterate the factory that pumped the things out.

The Yinchorri bellowed to retreat, Scrubber insensate finally lifted onto his broad back. 

Bussra was a fighter, loyal and simple but he understood this one thing, if Scrubber died the damage to the Sons morale would be fatal. 

Scrubber was their leader, their inspiration and terrible as it was some traumatic demon had whisked his mind away now, it could still be worse.

Doors began closing, Droideka’s closed in.  Liberators in their light grey stood firm, taking cover where they could, spending their all to clear a path for others to escape, none wanted to be first onto a transport and leave their fellows behind.

But choice, and time was running out.

Sala’s eyes flicked to the side, a tactical officer who had been keeping a laser focus on the End of Days shifting as the Vipers finally rounded to engage the Defenders with Corvette support, but not before the advanced craft had done enormous damage to the Aggressors, all but crippling their ability to fire on the Unchained, the Raider 2’s now cracking their tough hulls apart.

The Keldabde Class vessel was at last powering weapons and engines, finally Sala thought they had forced the Consortium’s hand,

“Pattern Do….” her orders were cut off immediately as Consortium Ereshkiga  Fleet Group arrived having expended nearly three times the usual coaxium to make the trip in 5 instead of the usual 8 hours from their brief appearance at Glottal.

At their head the Medley of Torment positioned behind the Unchained, placing the ISD in a pincer between the two Battleships, and the Zann fleet now doubled in size.

Ry swung low and hard evading the Star Vipers constant peppering of fire, her eyes suddenly catching the stilted real space integration of another three Aggressors and more ships behind them already spewing forth more Vipers and Blast boats.

Her body tensed, throat tightened, a close run but winnable battle was about to turn into a massacre.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 10 – End of Days - Part 2

Second Battle of Glottal

They were fighting a disposable army with indispensable lives and equipment.

Hundreds of Pistoeka droids cluttered the air.  Dozens of transports lay broken and smashed among the obdurate green-black of the Akropoli, its own redoubts filled with dead slaves.

The TIE’s and Justicar had shot down 51 of the cheap Kintra Transliners, usually used for civilian space to ground transfers, shields and weapons scavenged from other vessel bolted on, on their mad descent. 32 had crashed onto the Akropoli Citadels numerous Weapons platforms and watchtowers, each spewing out between 50 and 100 Vyponin drugged slaves, rolling Droideka’s in their midst.

The hexagonal platforms of jade hued ancient stone was bathed in chem-laced blood , the air a mist of carbonized flesh as 400 Sons of Kessel tried to hold back the rabid tide, the Vyponin Slaves attacking each other a bitter relief.

Battle tanks fired straight into mobs of bodies that were hurled off the parapets, Tripod cannons rattled and overheated trying to punch through Droideka shields.  The Brutes Vibro-axes and Tremor spears were dulled from dozens of troso’s pierced.

The Trubo lasers intended to shoot down the Consortium fleet stood idle as the Droideka’s positioned around them cutting off Liberator techs.

Incandescent yellow blasts from the Malignance Fortresses rained down on the struggling shields of the Justicar the atmosphere dimming the orbital bombardment impact, the Sons fleet jumped in from Glottals second planet fired long range shots only slowly damaging the Fortresses powerful shields, Captain Thun seriously considering ordering the TIE defenders to attack the Space Fortress through the swarm of Buzz droids and anti-fighter fire that was sure to come.

A bad situation became worse as the Malignance disgorged dozens of Confederacy style droid star fighters, the legacy Industrial capacity of Hypori had been put to good use to pump the old models out. Meido Llm’ar led Cleaver squad to intercept them before they reached the Justicar braving the buzz droids that had already taken two Defenders and five interceptors.

Ken Mack’s hands were tight round his saber as he slashed through another twi’leki woman's body, the confused horror in her face making him fear in their last moments the toxin filled victims gained some semblance of sanity.

Did she thank him for blessed release, curse him for his murder, or simply know nothing?

Scaari pounded shot after shot into the Droideka’s, Yekeht, sniper rifle punctures the curved droids carapace once the shields were down, Hosto and Harm kept the tide back with their E-11S - Ken and a handful of Brutes took the butchers role when the horde got too close. 

Every motion of his saber felt painfully wrong.  With each splatter of heated blood on his face he felt the fulsome disgust he was doing exactly what the Consortium had wanted them to - kill those they had sworn to save.

The futility of it all burnt as surely as his limbs.

A purple dusk was filled with light as TIEs and Droid fighters blasted each other kilometers above the Justicar, the ISD’s cannons only occasionally blasting a chunk from the Malignance Fortresses.

At every moment Thun feared the Zann Fleet would return behind the rest of his and deliver the killing blow.

There was no communication from anyone, even the ‘back channel’ of Black Armour was silent, what had become of the Enforcer and his ‘special weapon’ unknown.
 
Cold green figures on a screen underscored the urgent of the situation - the Justicar would be destroyed before the second Malignance at the current rate of damage being done by atmosphere dissipated blasts, the Gozanti light cruisers lacked the punch to break them in a reasonable time, the fighters too vulnerable against the Space fortresses bristling with turrets and no doubt a hive of Buzz droids.

“Brute squad we need the Hades firing again immediately!” he demanded

Grunting through the sharpened metal of a broken droid Ravge knew that was him. Muscle fibers coiling into springs on his ‘legs’ he bounded up and across the vast gap to the higher platforms, Vyponin slaves turning to rush at him he smashed aside with his elastically extended arm before leaping again.

Ken hurled a wave of Force energy to give them room to move forward, portable shields and tri-pods mounts rolled ahead on the push to the Hades cannon, shots for the Malignance coming unnervingly close to the lone platform.  to the east a Turbo laser fired drawing the Space Fortresses now increasingly divided attention.

They scratched, they bit, they shot, losing a Liberator and a dozen Vyponin victims for each meter of progress.

The disgust boiled in Ken as he saw tears falling from Scaari’s eyes, the hideousness of the situation overwhelming. 

“ENOUGH!” he yelled his throat instantly aching as a Wave of Force energy pulsed off him sending droid and slave alike flying back, his own eyes stinging from blood mist he surged forward hacking with his saber, his body moving in time to a Lamentation in the song that sped his limbs well beyond what was safe for his joints.

Ravge landed at the far side in time to see cauterized limbs flying from a vague blue glow amidst them, working its way toward the upright cannon.  With a grunt he extended three ‘arms’ and three ‘legs’, anchoring himself and contorting his malleable frame into a thrasher of meat of bodies.

Mak’Tor and Gen’Dai sliced and bashed their way forward, breaking bodies by the dozen as TIE’s and Droid fighters crashed to the Akropoli, trails of smoke and acrid metal filling the air, a welcome relief from the iron scent of blood and sickly sweet Vyponin.

Coming into view behind the Hades Ken looked at Ravge, coated in blood and Vyponin, ripping limbs and heads free with each motion of his enormous limbs, lost in a sick self ruining cycle.

The Gen’Dai hated this as much as Ken did - the first emotions he had ever sensed from the Brute leader - But Ravge was compelled to continue not because he had to but because it was the only thing he could do - slaughter was the only skill he could offer.

Ken understood Ravge now, a spark of empathy melted the numb mechanical murder that had overtaken his body.

Equally covered in the chemical and viscera sludge Ken had never felt himself, nor could scarcely imagine, a more soiled knight.

The last Vyponin victim was cut off at the legs by Ken, the upper body hit hard enough to send it flying off the edge by Ravge.

Techs in battered overalls rushed to the command console, dragging the body of the last valiant Tech who had tried to keep the cannon firing off the battered machinery.

A wave of intense heat evaporated the water in blood and sweat as the Hades Cannon fired, leaving salt and dusty cells caking their bodies.

<<<<>>>>

Eurydice Base

Weeks of rest be damned, she needed to be out there now.

As’har’Lem chomped back the pain by drawing on the Song, her seldom used saber in her left, favoured pistol in her right as he duck and wove past the mess of a ‘counter attack’.

Mark IV’s absent carbonite cracked legs and arms still grabbed Mercenaries trying to flee, bludgeoning them to the floor and leaving the corridors soaked with blood that she struggled not to slip on as she followed a path audible only in her mind, a thrumming drum beat whose repetitions were winding down to an inevitable silence that would rip the base apart.

Liberators burst in on the Defliers and Mercs in the computer-banks, backpack sized slicers twisted into cables reaming data back to their ships and straight onto Saleucami for Zanns analysts, as if it could tell them any more than they already clearly knew.

The Defilers were kick to hurl thick viscous gas grenades and activate cloaks to escape, their Mercenaries victims as much as any Liberators without rebreathers. A Kel-Dor liberator tore off his rebreather and eye protection to use his native skills to see through the gas, lining up a clear shot at the shimmering displacement of the Defiler, landing three swift E11 shots to the back before a choking merc drove a vibro knife into his chest.

In the storage rooms an Arcona with a Charric rifle fired point black into a Droideka, the kinetic impact of the Chiss weapons sending it flying apart before the fire fight began, the Mercenaries hiding behind the bulky sacks full of Nadiem grain.

Despite his hopes the very thing the Arcona Liberator Volunteer sought to prevent occured, the fire had already been lit, the grain so much good will had been spent to obtain was burning, fire suppressants disbaled, the pipes for the Oxygen Absorbers that would otherwise end the flames the first thing the Mercenaries had cut.

The Sons fought to save what they could, the Consortium to fleeing. Ash knew it would all be pointless if she didn’t reach the vast ‘Drum’ in time. 

She could almost thank the Consortium hackers that the blast doors were all wide open ensuring nothing delayed her as she raced harder through passageways of utter darkness, all the light blow out by the fighting, trusting the Force that was such a fair weather friend to her to make sure she didn’t face plant from tripping.

Cruising round a corner she saw her first real impediment.  Three mercs snapped to attention, two covering one on their knees with an array of parking tools working in some kind of access hatch. 

They moved in slow motion as the Force sped her limbs and sense, her pistol quickly up and firing, she out ran the blaster bolt itself, her sabers blade only halfway extended by the time she reached them.

In a perfect circle of motion she sliced through one neck, down into the crouched back of the ‘tech’ as her blaster bolt hit the third

Not stopping to see what they were doing she pushed on, skidding at every turn down till she reached the deepest depths of Eurydice base - the ‘Mainframe’ where the Celegians banged against their cyanogen tank walls trying to direct her.

She could already feel the tug to the pack on the dead merc’s body, hefting out the overly heavy Baradium bomb.  She knew what it was, and was certainly no novice when it came to explosives, but…

“I have no frelling idea how to shut this thing off,”, she didn’t know how to read Celegian tentacle emotes, but she suspected what she saw was their version of ‘Oh Dren’

<<<<>>>>

Second Battle of Glottal

The night sky lit with the cracking flare of a Malginance Space Fortress finally coming apart, the Hades Cannons and the Fleet breaking the shields and thick hull at last.

Ken walked grim faced through the groaning shaking dead, delivering the killing stroke with his blade to the Vyponin Slaves. 

“Eats them from within,” Hosto explained as he pumped a blaster bolt into a crazed Sullustans face, the Nautolon’s head tentacles sensitive to pheromones curled and recoiled from the sick smell of Vyponin in the air.
“Everything burns through, they fight and fight till they are killed or starve,”

Knowing they couldn’t be saved didn’t make it any easier.

High above after hours being bashed in uncontrolled spirals Black Armour finally reasserted control of his ship, the Jump Wave had severely damaged the Oblivion Vessels movement, it was sluggish and needed a lot of compensation to avoid spiralling again.

The Terror Orb was lost, the fragile thing no doubt ruined in the displacement wave that had near wrecked his ship, and he had no idea what was happening around him his sensory systems scrambled.

All he could see was the main fleet firing on a small object, a space station of some kind, trying to wear it down  - and then a half a dozen ships exiting Hyperspace directly behind them.

<<<<>>>>

He was all in.  The entire Consortium fleet was staked on this play.

Tyber Zann lounged on his command throne aboard his personal Aggressor Destroyer the Merciless, it’s Krayt Dragon Mural glaring as the Keldabe Battle Ship Excruciator led the attack into the rear of the Sons fleet currently occupied by the last Malgianace Space Fortress. 

He had a time table to meet and bills to pay, he needed to pay his Mercenaries, and for that he needed fast victory and valuable spoils - a protection racket over Glottals Slave Ranches would achieve that - an ISD would ensure he also maintained the prestige that kept the Merc’s believing they could make money from working with him.

The Malignance Stations, Buzz Droids, Vultures and Vyponin chattel had nicely softened them up for the kill to be delivered by a far smaller force.

The Excrutiator main batteries unleashed, cracking both the DP-20 Haru-des and Raider II Mmbri open.

With the ISD grounded there was nothing in the Sons Arsenal to match the Keldabe Battleship, exactly what the Sons plan had been Zann had no idea, regardless it had not survived the first feint with the Ereshkiga Fleet.

Thun stood stone faced on the bridge of the Justicar as its escorting ships now faced a full Consortium fleet on one side, the remaining Malignance Fortress on the other.

“All ships,” she said with cold certainty
“Full immediate retreat, all ground forces retreat, Glottal is lost, the Justicar will hold them off,”

The math was simple, they still had 6 capital ships, dozens of fighters and several hundred ground troops that could either try and fight Zann’s new fleet and win, at best a pyrrhic victory, or they could run relatively intact to fight another day.

Either way the Justicar, unable to breach orbit or make a jump to hyperspace due to the damn reactor coolant issues and battering from the Malignance ships, would be lost. The rest of the Sons didn’t have to die with it.

“NNNAAARRRRGHHH!” Ravge screamed to the pitiless skies as the words came through crackled on the nearest Comm-officer among the Liberators, the last shot on the Hades Cannon just primed,

Harm’s face fell as he looked over the re-assembled Ranger 1, the now early night sky speckled by turbo laser fire. 

Meido Llm’ar slammed his fist into the Consol of his TIE Defender as he peeled off leaving the buzz droids to fall to the Justicar.

“Cleaver Squadron, form up and escort the troop transports,” he said resigned as the Liberators began flocking to their Evac points, TL-100s and Zeta Landers that had ferried them there whirring engines ready to take them first a quarter of the way round the planet then into orbit to avoid the Zann fleet above the Justicar

“We should send in the fighters,” Urai whistled on the Merciless bridge as the first of the Sons Capital ships jumped to hyperspace.

“Let them run,” Zann countered

He knew his direct attack on their base in the Teth system would likely fail, but he rolled the dice nonetheless knowing physical failure could still be a psychological victory - he had violated the brief sense of security the Sons had there.

The combined psychological toll of defeat at Glottal, Hypori and Eurydice base would break the Sons morale completely, and a pursuit of fleeing forces would, on balance, likely lose too many Vipers to the TIE Avengers and Defenders to be worth it/

They scurried and scuttled into their transports, Thun ordering all those who could to evacuate the Justicar, many opted to stay, fortifying counter-boarding positions in readiness as a wave of RZ-52’s sped past the Malginance Space Fortress, the Hades cannon firing a last defiant blast as the Sons’s Capital ships made their escape, the shot shattering the Excrutiator’s forward shields but there would be no follow up damage.

Bundled into Ranger 1’s TIE Phantom, more cramped for the spectre of defeat, Ken felt empty as he stared into the dark greens of the Akropoli outer walls speeding beneath him to the flat lands where dozens of slaver ‘breeding’ stations, herding ranches and small scale factories remained now, and likely forever, unliberated.

The Son’s of Kessel were just one more forgotten temporary occupant of the Mighty Akropoli that would outlast them all.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 10 – End of Days - Part 3

Eurydice Base

Against his own protocol Doc Wolfe spun round the corner firing, he should stay put with his patients, but the situation felt too tenuous. 

He was no knight, but damned if he couldn't sense something was amiss, and twice damned if he was going to stay put while it was.

Smoke was everywhere, the smell of burning plastics and metal - he’d passed by half a dozen rooms simply burning within, the Defilers intent on just destroying anything of value had hurled incendiary grenades into store rooms and cupboards to leave the Sons with as little as possible.

He’d already passed the wrecks of six Battle Droids, all surrounded by Consortium troops and droideka’s to be sure, but there simply weren’t enough to protect a base this large against an attacking force that size.

A growing group of Liberators was with him as they made their way further up to the Hangar bays and offices, the Mercenaries becoming fewer as they moved, more Liberators and general staff coming out of hiding to join them as they went, the Droideka’s the only ones holding their ground till taken apart by overwhelming E-11S fire.

“They flee!” one Trandoshan Liberator cried excitedly as they shot at a handful of Merc’s making a run for it.

“No…They’re just pulling out…” A more dour Crolute of Brute squad observed, whatever their goals were in addition to shattering any sense that Eurydice base was a ‘safe’ home for the Sons had obviously been accomplished.

“I think we should to,” A thin Gado in dark Grey ranger armour added
“They probably have the place mined - I know I would,”

That sent murmurs of despairing agreement among the group even as they kept up the chase, they might be fighting to reclaim what would in minutes be a ruin.

They kept fighting regardless, a point of joint pride, no divisions between ‘Choosers’ and Former Slaves as they fought to wrest control of the Comms and Command level, consoles and tracer panels blasted apart, obvious signs of crude hacking on every comp-link port.

“You head to the offices!” the Gado who seemed to be in rough command among the shattered group directed Wolfe loose ‘squad’, the grizzled Mak’Tor following the Crolute Brute closely, the Doctor now sporting scavenged body armour and an E-11S.

They pushed into the wide but dark main office section, the now chilling sound of Droideka’s rolling keeping them on edge, the lights dead, only the sparks from broken equipment lighting their way until red anti-infantry fire struck hard and fast.

Meter by meter they pushed ahead, the odd Plex missile, grenade or overcharged shot bringing down the Droideka’s and wrecking another portion of the offices, and at the cost of more Son’s lives, Wolfe doing what he could with the few bacta patches he had.

Breaking through the last machines they reached the doors to Scrubbers office, unlike all the others these remained sealed, a keen hearing Sephi pressing to the door heard movement inside, the Rangers and Liberators quickly adopting ‘Breach and Secure’ positions.

An overcharged blast on the door sensor and a quick slice from aTech soon had the door crash open,E11-S’s raised the scene that confronted Wolfe behind he doors briefly caused him to stop dead.

There was the Zeltron Nurse, Jal’ina, about to step into a waiting Armoured Transport parked outside the shattered transparisteel of the offices far end that had once looked on the calming waterfall and verdant flora.

Three Defliers and a handful of Mercenaries packing various slicers and code breakers back into bags were with her. 

It looked for a moment to Wolfe as if Jal’ina were just idly stepping onto the ship, till the first shots were fired and she leapt back down to the officer floor seeking cover.

Throwing over the large desk the Defilers quickly downed tow Liberators, the Crolute Brute raging and rushing forward to get in range with his slug-shot, downing one Mercenary even as a blaster bolt went through his arm. Wolfe pressed close to a column on the side wall, firing off his own blaster rifle where he could, knocking one of the merc Tech’s on the side forcing him to scramble to the transport.

The Gado’s lithe limbs let him speed round to flank the Defliers who were quickly pulling back to the transport, one grabbing Jal’ina and pulling her up with him, the comparatively tiny Zeltron woman no match for her Crismon armoured abductor.

Red blasts from the E11S’s - mostly underpowered as it was, only caused the Delfiers personal shields to ripple, the more powerful array of Consortium weapons doing far more damage in return as the Son’s pressed forward, they hardly needed to the Delfiers rapidly hopping on board the transport that seemed eager to leave, Jal’ina in the last Defliers arms reaching out her hands for help they couldn't’ chive as it began to pull away…

Until she suddenly flew from his arms into mid air, caught by the Crolute as a hell red blast smashed into the Delfiers head with uncanny precision.

The Shadow of Black Armour - or ‘a’ Black Armour filled the room, its overpowered weapon rending chunks from the transport as it tried to speed away, but seemed tethered by some invisible chain to the ground.

A hatch on the top popped open and three smoky blasts followed, Carbonite missiles aimed straight at the super-super soldier that forced him to divert them into a far wall allowing the transport to fling into the distance like an uncoiled spring.

<<<<>>>>

“Maker, I hope this works…” Delicately as she could with a combat knife Ash popped the screw then quickly pressed the knife between two magnetic plates.

Olooo or was or Rooloo? Probably Moloor - either way the Celegian nearest her in Big-Brain’s tub pulsed in their jelly fish like manner with anxiety,

[Careful!] the electro-pulse to text device on the floor beside her read of the Celegian’s worry as she tried to deactivated the baradium bomb guided only but instructions that could fit on a 300 character screen.

Pushing down a little further she heard a faint click and thought for a moment she was about to meet her Maker.

But all that happened was the devices hum went lower.

[Deactivation likelihood 87.6%] scrolled across the screen.

“87%,” she glared at the Cyanogen filled tank, the tentacled Moloor contracting tightly as if sheepish.

A chill of danger sense trickled up her spine, fearing she had fallen on the 13% side when intentionally heavy footsteps approached, and the sick light sucking energy of Black Armour fell over her.
Swallowing bitterly she snapped at the figure
“Where the frell have you been?”

The Second of the Black Armours resented the shirll response, and replied by tossing the second deactivated baradium bomb beside her.

Ash sighed, begrudgingly acknowledging they hadn’t been completely idle - still….

“Could’ve helped sooner if you weren’t sitting on a ship at the far edge of the system,”

The Black Armour ‘stared’ in it’s invisible way for a few moments, genuinely chastised - they had been too far away, and they hadn’t detected the breach in time.

He extended a dark hand to help her up.

<<<<>>>>

Second Battle of Glottal

Point defence turrets on the Justicar blasted very approaching transport apart they could until the weight of orbit Ion fire rendered all but the most basic systems non-functional, Zann not wanting his prize to crash into the Akropoli Citadel.

The ISD cut a lonely figure among the smoke rising in the night from fires in the Akropoli, the last Hades cannon exploding from a pre-programmed overload to ensure the Consortium could not capture the valuable Chiss-Aethan Hybrid technology.

Flares of fire lit the sky here and there, a few dozen more Mercenaries of the boarding parties snuffed out.

But only one boarding vessel truly mattered.  That was the TIE Phantom that had once belonged to Ranger 11, piloted by members of Deflier Brakhest Tahn’s Enforcer Cadre, the Son’s own ‘Worm’ boarding tube primed to deliver Urai Fen into the heart of the Justicar, the Phantoms stealth drives ensuring it avoided any automated fire from the few remaining Akropoli cannons.
 
Even the grizzled Tahn kept his distance from Fen, the Talortai was the ultimate enforcer of Zann’s will even among the Defilers - if any of Zann’s lieutenants even considered cheating their employer.

With a clank the Phantom locked onto the Justicar, Buzz droids having already cut through much of the hull the worms magma cutters needed little time as the hold went dark.

The Justicar’s halls had only emergency lighting, Liberator troops in strong positions ready to repel boarders with slug-shot guns poking from cut holes in heavy shields.

“The self destruct? sublights,” Thun asked Boltok, the Quarren and Ikotchi the only ones left on the bridge, even if he couldn’t overload the reactor he might crash it to the Akropoli.

“Scrambled by the Ion cannons,” he replied with cold clarity even as he fidgeted with two thermal detonators prepared to turn the Mercenaries that would soon come into so much scorched meat.
“I could get out and push?” the quarren added with uncharacteristic humour as deeper in the ship two vast arm length blades sliced through durasteel and bone as easily as the stale air.

Urai Fen was a walking blizzard of razors slicing apart any of the Liberators or remaining staff that crossed his path on the way to the bridge, his size saw him ram his arm blades through torso’s his speed dodged blaster bolts.  In between his stealth generator and memorization of layout allow him to flank any attempted at stopping him.

He was disappointed, there was no challenge for him here - none of the ‘elite warriors’ their spy had reported on were present, not Black Armour, not the Gen’Dai, not even the ‘Jedi Boy’. 

The Liberators were creative enough, but they were struggling, the air-scrubbers already operating at 50% before the battle due to a lack of replacement filters were now completely shut off, the majority of species that required Oxygen to breathe struggling.

Fen whistled out the carbon heavy air as he filled it with blood mist, spinning between vibor-swords and shots from depleted power cells,

“A meaningless death,” he whistled as his blade bisected another, the storm-trooper style armour clattering to the blood soaked deck.

Behind him followed Tahn and his Cadre Enforcers, moving swiftly to take the hangar, the Phantom detaching the worm and more Mercenaries rappelling into the hole it left. 

A few rangers, tech and Brutes who had opted to stay await them in the launch bays and storage sectors, launching bloody vicious ambushes of the Consortium forces where they could, spare laser cannons for TIE Interceptors rigged into makeshift weapons emplacements delivering space grade weapons fire in close quarters that incinerated Cadre Enforcers instantly before grenade launchers and carbonite micro missiles forced them back.

6 Eurydicen Guard awaited Fen at the main doors to the Bridge, the Son’s shock troops launching at him, three with Tremor swords, the rest firing Charric rifles, all shimmering with personal shields over their Death trooper armour.

These provided some entertainment for the centuries old beaked warrior, his feathers bristling to allow more air through to cool his core as he flew between the blades, Charric shots carrying kinetic energy punching into his own personal shield.

With a flick of his claws he swiftly activated his camo-cloak mid fight, the Eurydice Guard losing sight of him for a precious fraction of a second that was all he needed to drive his arm-blade straight through one and into a second.

A third of their number lost the rest were easy prey to the beaked destroyer, blaster smoke filled the air with blood mist, desperate last lunges and self sacrifice attempts undone by the Talortai’s experienced swiftness till the six lay bleeding or dead on the ground, his heavy clawed feet giving him stability to slice the heavy blast doors open.

Thun fired immediately,  Boltok hurled one of two thermal detonators, Fen kicked one away, incinerating a good portion of the lower left trench, the light and heat causing Thun to flinch and blink - a bare fraction of a second in which Fen reached him, his blade coming swiftly through the Ikotchi’s hips causing his torso to fall off in a spray of blood and organs’ falling out.

The Quarren’s hand on the thermal donator dropped with the flow through of Fen’s stroke, severing the nerves before he could thumb the activator, the explosive rolling indolently down into the trench where the intercom played the blaster fire, explosions and muffled screams of death across the ship that were the last gasps of the Son’s hold on the Justicar.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 10 – End of Days - Part 4

Battle of Hypori

The End of Days had arrived.

The Keldabe Class Battleship’s withering fire slicing into the Unchained one moment, then the Mercy the next - the Nebulon B frigate far less able to withstand the barrage lost shields, the last operable Vengeance Frigate taking advantage to send a kinetic slug from its mass driver cannon into the ‘bridge’ section between the block engine nacelle and main body to crack it in half.

The Medley of Torment and its escorts slowly ground the Raider II’s and Hopespring, and the TIE Defenders that Sala had sent in so aggressively and successfully to cut the Aggressor Destroyer were now surrounded by Corvettes and Star Vipers.

The cold of space did nothing to diminish the burning heat of Ry’s exertions, her hands and legs in constant motion on pedals and toggles, doing everything she could to keep her fighter running, the advanced ships edge in maneuverability and speed being whittled away but the Vipers, every wing panel had blast marks, shields were largely gone across every squadron, missiles already depleted from the attack on the Malginance were not completely spent, and cannons were slow to power.

They had been flying for over 8 hours now, from Hypori and back, using hex linked shots to damaged the Aggressors had rapidly dwindled the batteries and the Solar collectors couldn’t replenish them that fast.

If they weren’t shot down first they would soon simply run out of power.

A dangerous spin between two vipers, underpowered shots buffeting a third Ry’s eyes flicked to the Main Power indicator as it hovered at 18 per cent, well aware what a drop to 15 meant.

Ahead Terio was struggling to shake two vipers, a Corvette moving in, Hammer Squad doing what it could to try and pick off the Corvettes cannons, but most shots doing little more than heating the metal.

Accelerating and rising Ry came down in an arc ignoring her own pursuers to fire on the furthest Viper tailing Terio, two shots going wide, three hitting, two bounced on the shield but the third struck the red blaze of the engines, not enough to destroy it but sending it spinning out of control.

Leveling she bit down as she fired onto the next, again only half hit but they forced the Viper to break off, Teiro clicking an appreciative ‘Thanks’ over the static filled comm, voice communication long since scrambled.

The Hopespring finally fell, its bridge blasted by a fusillade of Blastboat Torpedoes that managed to get through, Despite the half strength Mattock Squads efforts, the Light Cruiser Skifter pushing to try and get between the Unchained and the End of Days without instruction to do so.

“Trying to buy us time, damn fool,” Sala cursed as the End of Days and Medley of Torment Approached, the ISD pounding their frontal shields.

“All Medical Teams to Main Hanger…All Medical Teams to Main Hanger…” blared over the speakers as the few that had managed to retreat from Hypori began to arrive, Sala looked across the Tactical map noting there were half a dozen more ships coming.

She couldn’t wait for them.

“Set Jump coordinates, signal the Fleet, full retreat,” her words were soft as she stared out the View port in the callous metal face of the End of Days that bore down upon them, TIEs and their smaller capital ships bursting apart beneath it.  She could not win, only salvage the ISD itself - the enormous hulk of metal that had lifted the Son’s into a league they were clearly not equipped to compete in.

Her officers complied with dolorous expressions as the ship pivoted slightly to make the jump.

“All Force Retreat to Rendezvous 3,” She called on the open comm as the shields began to flicker, and a semi conscious Togruta was flopped onto the deck of the Unchained, the last ship to make it in before Ry saw the Grey doonium dagger stutter then vanish out of real space.

Sykes face displayed a rare instance of animation in his irritation, but he was well aware he would soon have his ISD, his reward for his loyalty and service to Zann, he already had the name chosen, the Justicar would become the the Hand of Damnation.

For now though he had mopping up to do.

There were still a half a dozen transports just breaching Hypori’s atmosphere, he sent his faster corvettes to intercept knowing they would only catch two before the rest made the jump.

But now his careful position of the two fleets came into its own.  All his ships had been positioned along the most likely hyperspace jump trajectories for this side of the planet making any of the far slower fighter board nav computers job of plotting a course harder.

“Deploy all remaining Vipers,” he ordered,
“I want as many of those Defenders and Avengers disabled as possible,”

Already outgunned now the Son’s remaining fighters were swarmed, Teiro’s lower wings blasted off as his shields failed completely.

“<JUMP!>” Loftharr ordered, the Mirlian boy wasted not time

“Sorry,” he whispered as he blind micro-jumped, they could only hope he didn’t translate out into something solid.

All around the TIE’s were getting peppered, for every one that made a jump, two more were sent spinning or exploding.

“Mattock 3 to all fighters I have a jump solution, uploading now!” was the urgent trilling voice of the Givin pilot, not doubt using their mathematical mind to quickly determine the best route as more and more were blocked off.

The Vipers seemed to have doubled in number, any attempts against the Aggressors or Corvettes abandoned as they were chased off.

Ry formed up best she could near Shorykam, taking underpowered shots at the Vipers of Loftharrs hail, his Defender was spewing gases, sluggish in the normally deft wookies paws.

Between them they just managed to blast on Viper, the other peeling away to nearby support.

She flicked her eyes down briefly to the console, the data dump of coordinates slowly loading up, her fingers moving to swiftly input them even as her power reserves dropped lower and lower.

“<PORT>” the Lethal Dancer howled and Ry reacted only barely into time, to dodge a Concussion missile, it overshot but soon spun with its auto-tracing, she had to push her Defender as fast as it could go, her countermeasures long since spend.

Every ounce of focus, every second of the hours and hours of relentless training she had endured in the simulators of Csilla was called upon just to survive.

She was sweating, sore from sitting for so long, hands starting to shake from too many hours being rumbled by near misses and constant turns, her shoulder injured at Dilbana seemingly a lifetime ago twinging once more.

Everything was flashing red, her scanner was filled with the sharp X’s of nearby vipers, her missile lock warnings screaming in her ears.

She kept focused on a single active goal, reach the jump point, reach the jump point - avoiding every impediment through the explosive fireworks of the dog-fight.

Friendly indicators vanished as a handful made the jump, Tutu and one other member of Mallet squad, Loftharr was circling back round to help his wingmates - damn that noble wookie, everything was lost.

She saw it in the corner of her gaze, the blast-boat just behind him flare up as he twisted to fire at a Viper harassing Shorykam, her mind crisp with certainty it would hit him square.

Friendship, instinct, drilled CEDF tactical response to preserve the most valuable member of her squadron even at the cost of her own life - whatever it was she hammered her thrusters full power diverting all spare energy, hex linking her blasters with minimal power, screeching past a Vipers laser lock, through the ream of fire aimed at Shorykam that burst green hazy after images in her eyes and then firing blank at the tiny black dot that was the missile.

The concussion missile aimed at Loftharr exploded - the one that had been chasing her hit.

The Defender buckled and began to spin, the hyperdrive board went dead as she fought to right it.

Loftharr roared in despair as his low power shots freed Shorykam long enough for him to make the jump.

Ry felt the cold sweat run down her face as every system began to fail. 

“Ken…” she gasped through sweat and tears as her hand reached for the eject.

“I love you,”

<<<<>>>>

[TheDutchman]

So much sacrifice, so much loss, so much violence...

And so the Consortium's main offensive thrust pays dividends, not only crushing the Sons, their Cause, indeed their very ideology, but also acquiring the Justicar as the proverbial cherry.  Equally disheartening is Scrubber's succumbing to his own personal demons (and at the worst possible time).  Between all of that and the illusion of untouchable safety that Eurydice Base had provided being shattered, one wonders if the Sons can survive this calamity.  Or will it prove to be another one of their downfalls, similar to what befell them centuries ago courtesy of Black Sun...consequently (and ironically) reverting the organization to the "thin" times before Scrubber helped to re-energize them.

For all that were able to escape, they are more than merely bloodied.  Worse, they've had to do so balanced against the losses (and said sacrifices) of their companions and confederates...and with the knowledge that what was their advantage will be subverted and turned against them.  And that's not even considering the fact that theirs goes beyond mere defeat, but calls into question their very purpose.

Underscoring this is the unmitigated cost of their once invincible secret-weapon Black Armor losing (something the Sons had yet to experience).  However and perhaps it is from this that a silver lining can be gleaned: weighing what was lost versus what was invested, Black Armor (and by extension Artemis) might be compelled to turn their collective attention towards helping their friend Scrubber to overcome his breakdown.  Of course, the obverse could also be argued...

Meta-note: Pulse-pounding action eliciting emotion and sympathy which I think can be best summed up by the final scene with Ry: her sacrifice for her beliefs are done so at the cost of never seeing Ken again... Hopefully, this is NOT the last that we see of our resident Chiss heroine 
This chapter really demonstrates why I think that LSG is the best at showing expansive, large-scale battles effectively.  I just hope that Ry has enough oxygen to last to the next chapter^^

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 11 – Broken Dreams - Part 1

Zann

Occasional flares of welding torches gave light to the otherwise monstrous grey sky that was the underbelly of the Justicar as 32 of the Glottal ranchers and ‘industrialists’ assembled, having been ‘escorted’ by his Defilers and the threat of blasting their holdings from orbit if they didn’t attend the.

The Son’s of Kessel hadn’t threatened the ranches and small factories of the Glottal plains because they intended to free the slaves there over the coming months.

Tyber Zann had no compunction in leveling a few to make a point if necessary.

They were escorted through the vast halls of the Akropoli, intentionally past the droideka’s and Mercenaries shoveling Vyponin slaves and stripped Sons bodies into piles to be sold on for blood and bone nutrient slurry.

The varied slave holders were assembled in the large central courtyard of the citadel, Tyber Zann standing above them all atop the feet of a statue of an unknown being, Sons’ equipment still littering the corners, the former Daimyo’s decorations still in crates packed by the Son’s ready to be shipped off and sold. They too were all Zann’s now.

“Comrades, as you can see the Son’s of Kessel have been driven out,” he smiled as tugs sped overhead effecting minor repairs to his new Star Destroyer, the clean up inside of the ion wrecked circuits - and blood stench of the bodies - taking far longer than the superficial exterior damage.

“Glottal is yours again, all I ask is a small recompense for removing these interlopers,”

Twelve of his Defliers stepped forward, a crimson border closing the slave holders in as the bill was read.

“300,000 credits from each of you, we have Corporate Sector Universal Transactors here to make the payments with your bio-idents so you don’t even have to head back to your holdings,”

9.6 million credits just covered his costs for the recent battles, and a little for repairing the destroyer.

“We won’t pay your extortion money,” one Nikto rumbled beneath his voluminous robes,

“We are vassals of Besadii kajidic, you want payment you deal with Durga,”
There were a few stilted murmurs of uncertain agreement, the rest of the slave holders seeming more aware of the reality that faced them.

“Durga is a busy Hutt…” Zann acknowledged, he would have to deal with the Hutt soon enough, but for the time Durga was occupied wrestling Xizor's former assets from Dequc, a low-level Jeodu operative of Black Sun who was styling himself a ‘Prince’ in imitation of their former Falleen employer, and Xizor’s reputed niece Savan.

“...I’m sure he was planning to send help - eventually…” Zann noted dead pan
“...now if you’ll be so kind as to pay the extermination fee we can move onto the rest of my compensation package,”

Cowardly as they were craven, the slave holders folded.

<<<<>>>>

Ken

There was no respite on Aestis Minor. 

Only more fires to fight.

The Phantom docked into a crowded but morose crowd of beings, bodies in plas bags piled to the side waiting for identification, others bearing Consortium insignia and the wrecks of Droideka’s being thrown into large skip bins.

“Emperor’s black bones,” Harm cursed as he lowered the Phantom into one of far too many empty docking cradles, those that were occupied, an assortment of Avengers, Defenders and Interceptors, all showing various signs of tear, crews using mechanical cutters to free some pilots from damaged cockpits.

The insignia on one Defender brought Ken from his haze - the Sledge gripped by strong wookie fists that signified Ry’s squad.

The Phantom had barely touched down and Ken was out, his stomach a turmoil of anxiety.

“Ry!, Ry!” he yelled over the empty noise of the defeated and the grieving, a TL-1200 opening up to ferry out battered Liberators, med crews overstretched doing what they could with the very little resources they had left.

He caught sight of a tall furry object in the crowd, Loftharr or Shorykam, and waded his way through the thongs toward him.

“Loft…Loftharr!”

“<Ken,>” Slege’s leader turned from his conversation with Tu-tu, the gran pilot’s three eyes fixed on the ground.

“Where’s Ry, where…”

<Ken…> The wookie placed his paw on Ken’s filth covered chest plate
<She…she…saved my life…my debt…can never be repaid…>

The wookie bowed his head for a moment then raised it to let out a low roar of mourning for his Battle-sister.

Ken trembling stood still as he could.
“No…No”

<<<<>>>>

Scrubber

The silence was deafening.

If there had been wailing, screaming, shouting, rage, it would’ve been something.

Instead, two hours after the last ships had returned, Eurydice base was drowning in the still calm water of shock.

Survivors of both battles had staggered off transports in Bishop and Rook hangars straight into the waiting gurneys of Mak’tor and Sons medical teams, even Doc Wolfe, ever eager to lose himself in work, overtaxed. 

Wounds were quickly sealed, the air usually a heady mix of oils and engine coolant soon tasted of Bacta spray, the muffled sounds of pain broken by the clang of empty Bacta cans on the ferrocrete.

The Defilers plans to level the base had failed, their contingency to destroy as many of the Sons supplies as possible had succeeded, supplies were now being brought from the Unchained to help, passengers well enough to be moved brought up on the return trip.

Ziach’c had rolled off the fact that virtually everything was gone - every grain, every power cell, every bandage, being used or burnt to a cinder by hastily tossed incendiary grenades.

Watching himself from somewhere outside Scrubber walked through the endless rows of beds and blankets, words that were not his own of support and comfort flowing from lips that obeyed some kind of programmed routine of leadership and guidance, before finally realising he had not slept for the better part of three days - he wandered dead to his office. 

Not even reaching the ruin where his desk had been, he collapsed by the door frame just inside.

“Twenty five years…so many…lost…in one day…a few hours…”

He had failed them, failed them all.

Barely cognizant of the tactile sensation he found himself holding in his right hand his faithful Naboo blaster.

If he squeezed just a little at the right time…it would all be over, he would ‘escape’. 

By rights he should’ve died all those years ago, abandoned by the Republic, beneath the wet soils….why delay any more. 

He was all too well aware there were fates far worse than death – as the crew of the Justicar were no doubt now experiencing – over and over again.

A touch on his back flowed peace like cool water through his spine

“Scrubber,” Jal’ina whispered to him

<<<<>>>>

Ken

“She’s alive…I would’ve felt it…she’s alive,” he muttered pushing through to Harm

“We need to leave now,” Ken boomed, the force carrying his voice and causing many to stare.

“Ry is alive, we need to find her,”

Poking his head out from under the open access hatch Harm looked puzzled

“What are you talking about, we’re not going anywhere till we receive orders,”

“We can’t wait, she could be losing air over Hypori right now, we have to save her before the Consortium gets to her!” the young knight demanded

The seasoned Captain shook his head
“I understand you’re upset but we can’t launch any type of rescue, certainly not to Hypori! The colonel says they have two whole fleets there, anyone who did survive will be dead or captured by now,”

Ken wouldn’t be dissuaded pressing right up to the Captain

“Then we find where she is and rescue her.”  he thought for a moment
“And the others” the pause showing what an after thought they were.

“That’s enough, Ken, head to your quarters, get some rest,” the former Imperial accepting of the fact the younger man was still literally caked in blood and grime from slaughtering dozens of Vyponin slaves meant he was unlikely to be thinking clearly.

Ken shook his head a bitter urgent need to find his love boiling

“I’ll go myself,” trying to push past the Captain, Ken felt the sting of his fist in his cheek, the weary knight too distracted to see it coming.

“Enough! Ken Mack you are Confined to quarters immediately, you two, take him,” the Captain called to two nearby brutes.

“Considering the circumstances, I’ll forget this happened,” Harm said firmly

“I won’t,” Ken glared as he was pulled away, too tired to resist.

<<<<>>>>

Zann

“You don’t put a slave in their place by killing them - that’s just wasteful,” he mused as he leaned back on the bridge of what was to be the Hand of Dmanation

“You beat them, as many times as it takes until their will to resist breaks and they accept their place,” he said mostly to himself, but as usual Urai was with him as they headed to the large War room within the Hand of Damnation.

And thus it was for his strategy, to beat the Sons of Kessel over and over again - their disparate forces making a single conclusive battle impossible anyway - until their morale shattered. 

Zann was well aware morale was the one edge the Sons had, his own Mercenaries, Defilers and Tenured officers were only loyal so long as the credits kept flowing and the risk reward trade off was tolerable.

So far there was little direct profit from fighting the Sons - his extortion of the Daimyo of Dilbana and Ranchers of Gottal had covered costs but little more, and he could only keep his Defliers from their regular territories for a few more weeks unless they received more than they could earn themselves.

The door sliding open he prepared for the ‘big deal’ of this Score.

Urai keyed in the Holo-transceiver ident while Zann stood on one of the Holo-scan platforms designed for the Captain to report to Moffs or worse Vader himself when this was still an Imperial vessel.

After a few moments the entire room lit with the larger than life blue washed face of Durga Besadii Tai, the birthmark over his eye instantly recognisable.

“Durga mah pateesa keelya bu pah” [Durga, my friend how is the mud] Zann greeted arms wide in Huttese

“<Petulant leg walker, you have been harassing my vassals>” was the booming response

Zann adopted an over dramatize look of shock pointing at himself
“<Me? Never? I helped them get rid of a scale infection called the Son’s of Kessel, only fair they should chip a few credits my way to cover costs,>”

He had to be cautious, Durga wasn’t the strongest Hutt, and was engaged in his own battles - but one word from Durga to the other Kadijics could still make life for Zann and all his Defilers very uncomfortable   

“<Demanding tribute from them, inflicting one sided agreements…these are my privileges you are usurping,>” the Hutt growled

“<Maybe so but I’ve also, mostly, rid you and all the Kadijics of a nuisance, the Shag Pabol and the Baxel Sector is open for business again, supplies and credits are flowing back to your coffers - so long as there are no more disruptions, your vassals can keep sending you tribute>

Of course by disruptions Zann didn’t just mean the Son’s, he could cause just as much damage if he chose with his own forces and cut Durga’s cash-bantha’s from under him.

The Hutt mulled it over, Durga needed funds and resources elsewhere, and didn’t have time to divert attention to the Baxel Sector which was meant to be an easy source of passive income not a rump-ache.

His big eyes blinked several times before he spoke again.

“<How much to keep these disruptions from recurring,>” he asked

“<Flat fee of 30 million for one year, commencing two months ago>” Zann didn’t want to stay in the sector any longer than he needed to, mobility was key to the Consortium's strategic edge, there was no one place to target, even his Palace on Saleucami was more affectation than essential.

“<20 million, and be thankful I do not inform the Council of your flagrant interference in Kadijic business,>” was the terse reply. Durga expected 60 million from his vassals in the sector annually, better to get 40 million after Zann’s fee than none at all.

The image vanished leaving Zann alone in the pitch black, the sharp smell of fresh welding filtering through the vents.

“That went better than expected,” Zann smiled, that 20 million would pay 1 million to each of his Senior defilers, a decent pay for a few months' work they could reinvest in their own ventures on their return. 

“Now…we take care of Nadiem…then…and I know you’re gonna hate this Urai…” he noted the Tarlotai’s impatience at finding a decent match to cross blades with was only growing.

“...we wait,”

<<<<>>>>

Scrubber

“You are a great man Hymra,” she whispered, her hands gently caressing is lekku and montrails, his head in her lap as he stared vacantly at the ruined transparisteel and burnt foliage that had once been such a beautiful view from his office.

“You’ve taken the Sons from nothing to nearly a state, perhaps you pushed a little too fast…” her voice was soothing and warm to his frayed psyche, flashes of Hypori interrupting his mind every few moments, the return to his place of enslavement more traumatic than he had first realized.

“You still have much to give my Adored. But this is a war. The Sons need a Warrior to lead them.”

His heart and breathing calming under her touch he nodded, he was in no state to lead or even guide the Sons through this war. 

There had always been resistance to the Cause, but never this focused. 

“You’re right…this is a war…the Sons need a Warrior…”

<<<<>>>>

Urai

There was barely even an hour's worth of resistance left in the two Liberator regiments and handful of mechs that held a large warehouse near the old Pasha’s villa.

The Son’s had diverted everything they had to the two traps Zann had laid for them, only a token force was left on Nadiem - the populace there already in open revolt against their ‘liberators’.

Urai Fen leapt from the Dekard transport onto the watch tower, breaking one Liberator beneath his talons, then severing the second lookout.

He strode along the catwalks above empty grain silo’s his arm blade deflecting blaster shots, his personal cloak confusing his enemies as he leapt catwalk to catwalk delivering decapitating strikes.

He was growing bored with this meaningless slaughter, apart from the Rangers and Gray Jedi he had hardly exerted himself, the Jedi Boy, the Gen’Dai and the Black Armoured one all remaining elusive, retreating before he could try himself against them.

Flipping off the edge into a group of the grey armoured soldier his Arms blades swung cleanly through the plasteel armour, blood bursting from arteries that were severed.

Fen twisted as if dodging a blade so the blood didn’t stain his feathers - these creatures vitae was not worth bathing to wash out.

Zann’s prizes were mounting, he was close to achieving his aim, but Urai still had not had his reward.

And he was growing impatient.

<<<<>>>>