Chapter 45
Crouching low with the Sun nearing the horizon just ahead, Joash, HK-40, Y’ssane and the four commandos approach the ravine where the decrepit enemy vessel had come to rest. The Special Commander and one of the commandos work their way to an edge that offers the best cover for viewing the wreckage. Peering over the edge, Joash whispers, “Quit fiddling with those optics and let me look.” The commando obliges and swiftly hands over the spotting scope. Joash continues while looking through the scope, “Hmm, I don’t like this. We have the advantage but we do not have the numbers. I see at least five soldiers with saber pikes guarding the perimeter of the vessel. No telling how many inside and furthermore, I can’t tell what they are doing. For all we know they could be rigging the vessel for self destruction.” The commando replies, “Sir. I suggest we wait until the evening and approach when the light is failing.” Joash continues to scan the scene as he replies, “You may be right. They also may have scanners operational and no matter what the light conditions are, we will alert them of our presence long before we get there to make our assault.” A long, frustrated tone radiates from Joash’s throat before he adds, “Your suggestion is noted. Come, let’s head back to the others. I need to meditate then we can work out a plan.” The Jedi tosses the hardware back to the soldier and begins creeping through the terrain in the direction of their camp. Upon arrival, Joash finds a quiet corner and drops into a meditative position, remaining still for the better part of an hour.
After rising, Joash gathers the group in a loose circle and outlines the finding from scouting the site. Upon finishing his description he asks, “Any other suggestions?” The team looks at one another for a moment when Y’ssane steps forward. “Sir, we have the high ground. Most scenarios would say we have the advantage but in light of knowing our enemy’s capabilities I would say we are at best on an even playing field.” The elder Jedi straightens a bit and replies, “Continue, please.” The Lieutenant-Commander continues after a moment of hesitation, “I suggest we approach from all angles. This should spread their focus, lessen their ability to form groups to shield one another and mask our true numbers.” Rubbing his scar as he tends to do while deep in thought, Joash replies, “I see. Your plan will lessen their advantage of numbers. There are two problems I see with this course of action; they are heavily armored against blaster fire and they have a longer reach with their saber pikes. Also, we will be dispersed in a way that we cannot help one another. Do you have a way to penetrate their armor from a distance?”
The young woman replies, “Yes. With some modifications I can increase the output of our firearms but there are drawbacks. The time between shots will be increased greatly, depending on the weapon. And if not careful, there is a risk of the blaster exploding after a few shots if fired too frequently.” She pauses and thinks for a moment before continuing, “The C-303 assault rifle should be able to manage no more than a dozen shots per minute. I estimate the power of the bolts to be…” She sways her head back and forth while doing some calculations before stating, “They should be able to penetrate the body armor. But the shields will still be an issue. Shots will have to be accurate or return fire could be an issue. HK-40’s rifle and mine will likely max out at four shots per minute. But I anticipate they could penetrate the shield and I would be surprised if a particular part of the body is left after taking a direct hit.” Joash continues to mull over the scenario in his mind for many moments before responding, “This is a solid plan but I am afraid it is too risky. I propose we combine the advantages of our position and funnel them to a single point. Everyone rain hell on them while Y’ssane and HK pick them off one at a time from the rear. I will do as much on the front of the line as I can to pull them in. This should cause enough of a distraction for her and myself to dispatch them all before they find a way to outflank me.” Joash surveys the teams expressions and the commandos nod gently. “Y’ssane, proceed with the modifications and notify me when you are ready.”
As the light begins to fade, everyone crouches down in their position, waiting patiently from the cover of trees or rocks. Y’ssane sits quietly on the cliff above the crash site with her newly modified rifle propped on its bipod. She inhales and exhales deeply, preparing herself for the first shot that must hit true.
Below, the elder man drops from a small outcropping to the dusty maroon colored ground. He slips sideways through a narrow opening that leads into the main ravine. After shuffling a few steps, the gap opens up which allows Joash to straighten and unholster his large saber hilt. He lets out a deafening roar as he approaches the mouth of the entrance. The Eternal soldiers nearby immediately snap their attention to Joash. Despite their heavy armor and shields, the small group gathers in two columns with a single soldier at the front and they begin marching towards him.
HK-40 notes, “Ma’am, there are more soldiers exiting the vessel.” Y’ssane, unsettled by the droid’s unexpected demeanor, replies slower than normal, “Take out the door controls. We have already let too many out.” Before she could finish a bolt erupts from HK’s blaster rifle and vaporizes the door controls, causing the blast door to slam shut. She replies, “Well, they know we are here now. Open fire!” Bolts erupt from different locations on the hillside and collide with the back ranks as the first soldier reaches Joash. He bats away the thrust of his opponent's saber pike and quickly rushes inside their reach, removing the soldier's outstretched arm. Then with an upward angled slice he removes their head, which thuds dully on the ground followed by the rest of the armored body. Joash steps back and raises his saber in a defensive position, evaluating the remaining seven warriors as they form a circle with their shields, stepping over the fallen bodies of a pair that went down in the first barrage.
Steady breath escapes the sniper’s lips as she squeezes the first round off from above the battlefield. The overcharged energy bolt screams through the air and makes contact with the soldier who was last to exit the vessel before the door closed as he rushed to join the defensive circle. What remained on his head resembled that of a crescent moon and he collapsed forward, crashing into the shield of his nearest comrade. The barrel is a bright orange color which remains for many moments after the bolt has been fired. Y’sanne thinks to herself, “Come on… Come on. Cool down! If I fire another shot it will be the last for this rifle.” Below, shots continued to pepper the enemy; each fired methodically and staggered to ensure shots were connecting continually while other rifles were cooling.
Joash steps back into the narrowed corridor, continuing to evaluate the remaining soldiers as they remain stubbornly hunkered down. Feeling confident, the next soldier makes a move towards the Jedi, confident that his flanks are adequately shielded. With a strong thrust, the blue blade of the staff flies forward which Joash sidesteps to the left then bats away with a swing to the side and upwards. As his blade continues upwards, the old Jedi takes his left hand and pulls through the Force, causing the soldier to stumble forward as a result of the invisible energy. With the man’s head bowed, Joash brings his right arm down quickly, removing his head which causes the soldier’s counterpart to halt. He raises his shield and lays his staff in the spikes groove for a prop before advancing slowly towards the elder Jedi. Joash digs deep within himself and opens his presence to the raw Force, letting it flow through him as his Grandmaster had taught. A unique heat fills his being as he reaches out with his left hand, applying his force ability which envelops the soldier so heavily he can’t move. Joash rushes past him and delivers a death blow with a backhanded slash. Before the soldier could fall, a wave of the Jedi’s hand sends the limp body into the phalanx, toppling several soldiers.
Another shot rings out across the grouped soldiers and contacts a shield at an angle. The bolt from Y’ssane’s rifle burns through the thick metal of the shield and connects with the chest of the wielder. A cry escapes his lips as the energy burns into the muscle of his chest but does not end his life. The rifle barrel is now glowing red from where it was not completely cool before her second shot.
Joash barrels out of the narrowed path and suppresses the group's mobility with his technique. The nearest soldiers lose their legs as he crouches under their swings and stabs. Another bolt pierces the rearmost soldier and blows his shoulder off from the angle of the attack. The sniper looks at her weapon which is now glowing white hot from the intensity of her modifications and the lack of cooldown needed between shots. She tosses the weapon down and reaches for HK-40’s rifle. The blast doors had opened moments earlier letting five more assailants out and as she settled back into her firing position, the lack of shots from the commandos became apparent. Without thinking, she picks a small spot where the chest plating ends at the arm and rips a standard bolt through the chest cavity of one of the soldiers joining the fray.
Breathing heavily from the physical exertion, the Jedi Master docks his saber onto his belt. With outstretched hands drawing on his now deepened connection with the Force he slams his hands together, stopping just before they touch. The remaining group of soldiers collide with one another and remain stuck as Joash walks slowly towards them. Intensifying his grip on them, the creak of metal being bent fills the canyon, followed by splintering bones under the amount of invisible pressure being applied to them. They groan and scream as the elder man squeezes the remaining life from their bodies. Once he releases the now crushed pile of bodies, they rest mostly still stuck to one another from the immense power that took their lives. Joash kneels down and pants heavily. After a few moments of silence he raises his right arm and gives his wrist a twirl, indicating to the team it was safe to gather around him. Two of the commandos step from the treeline and begin to jog over, their weapons moving from side to side as they check for other threats. In the distance, blaster fire can be heard from deeper in the trees within the ravine. The first commando that arrives at Joash’s side calls out, “Sir, a squad of reinforcements are en route. The others are currently attempting to slow their progress.” Still breathing heavily, Joash nods, “One of you go and assist. The rest should be sufficient to clear any remaining hostiles on the ship.” With a quick salute, the soldier turns and runs towards the sound of blaster fire.
Several minutes later, Y’ssane and HK-40 arrive at the entrance to the ship, carrying their weapons. HK had traded his long range weapon for his custom heavy blaster rifle, which he adjusts while looking at Y’ssane who paced without noticing. To her surprise, the droid moves to stand next to her and she nearly runs into him. He does not offer any statement and merely holds his rifle at the ready, watching Joash and the remaining commando prepare to enter the vessel.
Slowly, the small team makes their way into the derelict vessel. Each corner is cleared by the commando at the front, followed by Joash with his saber at the ready. HK brings up the rear, just behind Y’ssane whom the droid watches over carefully. A dozen minutes pass without incident when the team steps onto what remains of the bridge. With a wave, Joash calls Y’ssane forward and she moves with haste to the mainframe at the head of the bridge. She lays out a small, portable hacking unit and connects it to an empty port. An orange keyboard is projected on the metallic surface and the engineer sets to make a seemingly unending string of keystrokes; the hacking algorithm initiates and she sets parameters to filter the data received. After about an hour of Y’ssane working with the foreign mainframe she realized she had to reconfigure her data pad to interpret the computing language. She calls HK over and states, “HK, can you run a translation program? I do not have enough data to translate what we are finding.” Somehow, the droid manages to roll his unmoving eyes as he links in and begins running the program. The foreign symbols slowly morph into Galactic Basic and Y’ssane immediately begins reviewing what she can. Joash is slumped over in the captain's chair from his exhaustion when waves of the force reach him and snaps him awake. He leaps up from the chair, his eyes catching up from waking so quickly.
Deep in thought, Y’ssane doesn’t see her foe until it is too late. A prisoner snatches her from behind and places his blaster to her head. His left arm is around her neck causing her to grip his forearm in an attempt to alleviate the pressure on her throat as she is dragged towards the exit of the bridge. Joash growls, igniting his saber, “Hey, where do you think you're going?” The prisoner responds while quickly spinning to face the old man, “I am getting off this planet and she is my ticket out of here.” Joash throws both hands up in an attempt to de-escalate the situation before addressing the now back peddling man, “How are you not under control of the warden?” The prisoner adjusts Y’ssane and takes his weapon from her head and points to his neck before replying, “I removed my neural control de…. Ahhhhhhhh!” Before he could finish and put his blaster back to Yssane’s head a dark blur reached out and removed his weapon holding arm from his body. Reeling in pain, he instantly releases the Lieutenant-Commander as HK steps into view holding the man’s arm and blaster. How he moved so quickly and quietly is unknown to all of those gathered as the prisoner holds his shoulder, screaming as HK reprimands him with an incredulous tone, “You dare threaten Klick? You worthless meatbag. You are not worthy enough to even hold her decayed corpse after a thousand years.” With the man’s hand still holding the blaster, HK steps to the struggling prisoner and holds the weapon to his throat at a precise angle. A bright red flash burns through the man’s vocal cords, not killing him, but causing him to no longer be able to scream as he thrashes about on the floor while blood continues to pour from his amputated arm. Horrified, Y’ssane watches the man’s death throes that continue as HK gazes on with what could only be described as satisfaction.
Enraged, Joash bellows at the droid as he strides towards the dying man, “What were you thinking!?!?!” The Jedi’s blue saber stabs downward and penetrates the man’s chest, destroying his heart and ending his life. Joash glares at HK and continues, “No one deserves to be tortured in such a manner. You had no right! I was attempting to de-escalate the situation and gave no such order.” Abject confusion is apparent somehow in the droid's unchanged expression as he responds, “Quote.” Joash moves to speak as the droid pauses but the sound of his own voice coming from the droid halts him “Your mission is to protect the Lieutenant-Commander. You only get to kill things that try to kill her! Got it?” Without waiting for a response, HK states flatly, “I only did as you commanded. Based upon recent events, Miss Barnes is invaluable and I addressed this transgression in a manner befitting the crime. If this meatbag had not begun screaming, I would not have been forced to silence him. Extended noises at such a frequency can damage the Lieutenant-Commander’s hearing.” Those present just stare in stunned silence, unsure at how to respond to the droid’s logic and he continues, “Special Commander, I suggest we depart. Additional reinforcements are likely en route and we likely will not be able to push them back.” With a growl, Joash nods once, “You heard him, move out everyone.”
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A couple of days had passed since the small team had departed Zonama to acquire data on the Eternal Empire. Planetside, under Athin’s attentive gaze, Anhiel steps out of the refresher with her skin glistening from the droplets of water upon it. As she towels off, Athin questions her in a tone that indicates he already knows the answer, “Are you sure you are ready to begin exercising like you normally did?” Even with his Miraluka vision, the fine details of the woman’s musculature is apparent all across her small frame. As she bends over, muscles ripple across her back and shoulder blades; her left thigh tightens beneath her fine skin, looking as though steel fibers form the muscle mass. The Grandmaster responds flatly, “I will be fine, Athin. I do not plan on drawing on the Force. But my body craves exercise. These weeks of confinement have been hell for me.” After straightening, she gives the man a sly grin, “Besides, Sun will be with me.” His features say all that is needed but he adds after a sigh, “Please go easy on her. No one in this group can keep up with your regiment.” She stares at the man for several moments before grinning again, “Toss me my outfit please. I am going to be late.”
Light from the late morning sun bathes the compound in amber. Sun stands at the northern gate and fiddles with her hands as she looks around occasionally with mild anxiety. Her usual bob is pulled back in a small ponytail and she wears the typical black training suit, its moisture-wicking material clings tightly to her body. While fit, her physique is softer and moderately more voluptuous than the woman that approached her. Sun offers a small smile to Anhiel who wears dark bordeaux colored leggings that come to mid calf and a tight white crop top which exposes the woman’s abdomen. After a moment, her eyes drift to Anhiel’s right arm and she frowns mildly, “You are not wearing the bracelet, ma’am.” The playful smirk she received in response was disconcerting to the younger woman as Anhiel claps her on the shoulder, “I won’t be using any Force energy today. Shall we warm up?” Sun nods slightly, awaiting follow up instructions that never come. Instead, the Grandmaster begins to jog towards an opening in the treeline a couple hundred meters away and Sun follows a few moments later.
For forty-five minutes the duo jogs along a trail through trees, shrubs and vines while it winds downward. It opens up into a clearing with a stream running gently along the far edge. Upon arriving near the center of the clearing, Anhiel stops, followed shortly by Sun, both breathing heavily. Without turning, Anhiel beckons to the Padawan, “Show me how your balance has been coming along.” In a fluid motion, the Grandmaster leans forward and places her palms upon the ground then lifts her legs, bringing her body to a vertical position. Beneath glistening skin, her abdominal muscles flex to stabilize her core allowing her legs to sway ever so slightly. Sun follows suit, moving in front of her companion before she gets into position. Their eyes lock as the Padawan struggles a bit more to maintain the position. Minutes pass, each bringing more strain to the face of the women, more so for Sun. Her arms begin to shake as does her form. Anhiel bends her arms slowly then does a push up, launching her body up then landing on her feet. With her right hand, she gives a slight push to Sun’s legs, sending her over, landing on her back with a muffled thud.
Without much emotion, Anhiel states, “Now let’s see your quickness and strength.” As she rolls to lift herself from the ground, Sun questions as she recovers her breath, “Ma’am?” A couple meters away while watching the young woman straighten up, Anhiel states, “I assume you remember the hand-to-hand combat training you received with the Republic.” Her blue eyes linger on Sun who nods and Anhiel continues. “Good. Then come at me.” After she raises her hands in preparation, Sun approaches slowly under the Grandmaster’s watchful gaze. Her strike is quick, but Anhiel moves more quickly, sidestepping and gripping the now extended arm in order to flip Sun over onto her back. Although somewhat surprised, Sun began to roll over to push herself up before she could even recover her breath. But the movement halts when she reaches her hands and knees as a heavy weight pressed upon her back. Anhiel straddled the younger woman as though she was sitting in a saddle. The Grandmaster’s legs wrap around her opponent’s midsection and clasp together, applying a vice-like hold while her right arm begins to snake around the Padawan’s neck. As what was happening began to register, Sun attempted to roll forward, tucking her chin to avoid the chokehold that was coming. Seconds turn to minutes as the duo remains locked in opposition, one attempting to gain supremacy, the other struggling to maintain some control. Muscle fibers strain continually, bringing about a burning sensation as uric acid forms throughout their bodies. As the struggle continues, Sun unconsciously pulls on the Force to supplement her energy, allowing her to slip out of Anhiel’s grasp somewhat. Sensing the shift in position, the Grandmaster pivots, pushing off of the ground with the left hand so she begins to rock backwards. With her right she grips the padawan’s left arm that now opened towards her. With all her weight, Anhiel falls backwards and clasps the younger woman’s arm as she pushes her legs outward, locking in an armbar with all of her remaining strength.
Minutes later, both lay on their backs upon the ground, gasping for breath as their muscles ache at finally being released. A gentle breeze flows through the clearing, bringing cool air with it. Anhiel’s breath begins to slow although Sun’s remains rather heavy still and the Admiral states from her back, “All that’s left…is a swift run…back to the compound.” Sun looks over, bewildered and asks, “You are…serious…aren’t you?” Anhiel grins, “The first one to the mess…gets a miracle potion from Thea…and doesn’t have to feel the soreness…that is sure to follow.” A deviant look glints across Sun’s features and does not go unnoticed by the Grandmaster before they both make their way to their feet.
While the original run took a hair more than forty-five minutes, the race back was closer to thirty minutes. The pair of sweat glazed women rush through the gate, speeding towards the kitchen area. In the main kitchen, Thea had been working feverishly for several hours without taking so much as a five minute break, save for when she pulled up the same message on her datapad, depressively hoping she had read it wrong each time she reviewed the words before.
“Captain Tragonus,
Due to the High Admiral’s recent procedure, your request to accompany the upcoming mission has been denied. Your expertise are required as she recovers. Please identify a suitably trained commando to accompany the strike force in your place.
Best regards,
General Vega”
A nervous energy radiates from the alchemist and permeates the air ever so slightly as she slides the datapad away. She pulls a heating tray with a bubbling flask on it towards her, doing her best to mask her feelings by continuing to work on her potions and recipes. With a frown, she ponders the thoughts coursing through her mind. Joash’s grizzled face comes to the forefront, mild irritation adorning his features as usual as he remarks, “You are beyond frustrating, woman.” Despite the statement, endearment can be felt and it brings warmth to the woman as well as confusion as to why she felt such a way towards the mostly unknown man.
Just outside the mess, the elder woman with silver hair applies a stiff arm shove to force the younger woman past the doorway of the kitchen, causing her to roll several times on the ground before coming to a stop. It’s between meals so no one except for the head chef was present in the area. Anhiel addresses the Padawan smugly, “Never assume you have won until you taste victory.” Sun stammers as she enters the room, dusting herself off from being forced to the floor, “I assumed this was a race amongst comrades, not war with enemies.” Anhiel turns to Sun and replies, “I would expect that you understood me better by now. Victoria ad omnes sumptus. Victory at all costs. I suspect that shall adorn my headstone when my time comes.” While Sun looks on, surprised, Anhiel adds with a smirk, “Do not think I did not notice you taking advantage of the Force when you knew I was not able to do the same. It seems you and I are not so different.” Sun giggles, before covering her mouth and looking away, embarrassed by being caught.
Inside, Anhiel looks at Thea as she works, immediately picking up on the swirling feelings with a brief foray into the Force. She then notices the slight tremor in the woman’s hands as she reaches for a small flask. The Jedi Grandmaster steps to her side and grips Thea’s shoulder with a firm hand. Startled by the woman’s grip she lets out a shrill and quickly covers her mouth. Anhiel looks the middle aged woman in her eyes for many moments, eventually speaking to her in a gentle tone, “We are not allowed to believe in tomorrow, as it may never arrive. Take what you believe to be yours today, while you both are still alive.” Confused, Thea gazes up at Anhiel and queries incredulously, “What are you on about?” Unmoved by the tone, the Admiral merely blinks a couple times before stating flatly, “You can either remain silent or capture him when you have the chance. Despite his professed skill at reading people, he is surprisingly dense when it comes to his own feelings.” A small tear strings down Thea’s cheek as she lunges forward to embrace Anhiel. Shocked by the response, Anhiel stands still for many moments before she returns the embrace. The pair stay bound together for a minute as Sun looks on, confused until Anhiel breaks the silence, “Why don’t we occupy your mind, miss Tragonus?” Pulling back, Thea looks on inquisitively as the Jedi continues, “Can you whip up a tonic to alleviate fatigue? Padawan Veruna would greatly appreciate it.” Thea nods and Sun exclaims, confused, “But I lost.” Anhiel chuckles, “I enjoy the soreness that is to come but I suspect you will need something to be able to function tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, Anhiel departs the mess, heading back towards her quarters where Athin waits patiently.