Chapter 48
Bright eruptions of orange and white light fill the black void of space. The explosions are silent from the perspective of the shuttle that skirts through the battle towards the enemy flagship. Anhiel stands in the cockpit, gazing out upon the target vessel as they approach. A white flash fills the space while debris rockets through space with interior materials being ejected from the vessel as the main corridors depressurize. Her voice is calm and confident as she speaks to the pilots. “Take us in directly and hold your position. There should be no threat to the shuttle.” “Yes Ma’am”, with a slight tilt of the flight stick, the shuttle banks to the right for their final approach and the High Admiral returns to the main hold to address the strike team. “Prepare to board. Life support systems have been disabled but artificial gravity should still be operational. Keep your eyes peeled for enemy combatants as we move towards the bridge. I suspect backup systems are in play and those on the bridge are prepared to defend.” Her left hand comes up and affixes the metallic mask to her face and a brief hiss fills the air as a seal is made and the mask pressurizes. She grabs a nearby strap above her head and turns her head in the direction of the black clad woman beside her. Sun does her best to mask her nervousness and return the look from within the dark helmet she wore. As the shuttle enters into the hangar and sets down, Anhiel gestures towards the door while gazing at the Padawan. As the side hatches open and ramps extend, frost forms as the air inside the shuttle rushes out into the vacuum. As suspected, the artificial gravity systems are still intact and Sun exits the vessel, saber in hand but not ignited. Behind her, the commandos move out of the vessel steadily, weapons held up as they sweep the area, the forward units moving to flank Sun, covering her.
The hangar is eerily quiet, golden bodies strewn about, lying where they suffocated due to the sudden depressurization. Anhiel steps off the shuttle then steps over a body, glancing down at it as she comments internally, “As I suspected. Their armor is not fit for low oxygen or a vacuum.” With a wave of her hand, she sends the strike force forward into the main hallway. Silently they move through the corridor, clearing corners and adjacent corridors as they move. More bodies are seen with each new area until they arrive at a large, thick durasteel door. Sun approaches the control pad and makes several entries before she shakes her head, “It is hardlocked, ma’am. We won’t be able to open it from this side.” Anhiel looks around for a moment before lifting her right hand. Invisible waves flow from her hand and depress a hidden button on the wall. Steel begins to slide from each side of the hallway four meters back from the large door. As the pieces connect, a deep whir begins but it is silent in the vacuum until air begins to fill the now small chamber once more. “Take your positions. I’ll open the door.” Without waiting for a response, Anhiel ignites both her sabers and plunges them into the durasteel before her. The super-heated blades slowly penetrate the metal, causing the material near the blades to become orange to nearly white as it begins to melt. Within the door, the locking mechanism begins to soften until it fails. The sabers are withdrawn rapidly and Anhiel drops into her usual defensive stance, left arm held up with the saber in a reverse grip, the right held above her, angled downward slightly and pointed towards her foe.
Smoke from the melted metal wafts through the air and swirls rapidly as several bolts of blaster fire speed towards the strike force. In parallel, the Grandmaster and Padawan dash forward, deflecting most of the incoming bolts. Anhiel ducks the thrust of two saber spears and flicks both of her wrists to open massive gashes in the abdomens of both attackers. The following strikes were a blur as she dispatched several more soldiers. As she straightens, she looks across the bridge to where Sun was engaged with two armored soldiers. The Padawan’s form is tight as she moves rapidly to deflect the successive thrusts and slashes from the enemies’ staffs. A spinning slash exposes Sun's side to one of the combatants and he lashes out, catching her side. The quality of the armor absorbs most of the blow but the blade still makes contact with the flesh below. Several commandos move to intervene, having held back for fear of a stray shot impacting the Padawan but Anhiels raised hand halts their movement. She says nothing and simply watches Sun as she recovers. To Anhiel’s left, the unknown female commander rises from the ground and launches forward but without turning, Anhiel simply lifts her left hand and sends a massive wave through the Force causing the other woman to collide with the viewport of the bridge and collapse, unconscious. Somewhat annoyed, the Grandmaster admonishes Sun as the Padawan stepped back from her opponents, “We don’t have time for this, Sun. Either crush them, or die.”
Without waiting for a response, Anhiel turns her head slightly towards the commandos and gestures towards the unconscious woman, “Search and bind her. Execute any other survivors.” The orders are acknowledged and the commandos set to their tasks. In the corner of the bridge, Sun breathes heavily, unnerved by the resolve shown by the two soldiers before her despite their predicament. In unison, they squat, raise their shields and point the saberstaffs at the Padawan. Under the watchful gaze of her Grandmaster, Sun pulls a dark saber handle from within her robes and in a fluid motion, connects it to the end of her currently ignited weapon. A twist locks it in place followed by the snap hiss of a lightsaber coming to life. A deep orange blade erupts from the newly affixed handle, at its core is a deep red color. The approaching soldiers pause for only a moment but Sun capitalizes on the hesitation. With a growl, she launches forward, embarrassment and frustration rising in her as a result of Anhiel’s reprimand and ultimatum. The now double bladed saber spins, pushing both staffs to the Padawan’s left. The closest combatant spins to his right, bringing the end of his staff quickly towards Sun’s head, causing her to slide on her knees while leaning backwards. With a quick rotation, the blade hilts separate into individual sabers and she pops up from the slide now behind the pair. Her movements are quick, the orange saber now in a reverse grip in the left hand, the green saber held above while angled slightly downwards, a near perfect image of Anhiel’s technique. Again she dashes forward, using the left saber to deflect the incoming thrust of the left soldier. She continues the spin and angles a backhanded slash downwards with the right saber as the spin completes. The blade impacts the man’s knee, burning through tendons and bone without completely amputating the limb. Sun leaps into the air, bringing her right foot down on the stumbling man’s now lowered head to launch herself forward and higher. While somersaulting over the remaining soldier, she rotates so she is facing the same direction as her target while his spear narrowly misses her. Both sabers are now in a reverse grip and are brought downwards as she falls to the ground, entering on either side of the neck and plunging their full length into the body.
Dead before the blades were removed, the armored soldier collapses unceremoniously to the floor with a loud clatter as metal contacts metal. Chest rising and falling heavily, Sun looks towards Anhiel and though her expression is hidden, her emotions are clear in the Force. Happy?, though she dared not say that aloud. Anhiel merely continues to gaze on from behind her mask, her posture communicating the task was not finished as the other soldier grunts and tries to grab his weapon that lay a meter away. Sun frowns, reconnects the saber hilts into a single unit and walks over to the injured man. She looks down while the dual blades hum steadily, hesitating as he is defenseless but ultimately resolves herself. With two hands, she raises her saber and plunges it downwards, stabbing the orange blade through the left side of his back, puncturing his heart while the green blade illuminates her covered face. Though not fully satisfied, Anhiel nods once and commands, “Get in their systems, Commander. They could have reinforcements en-route. Open a fleet-wide hololink and notify me when ready.” A scraping noise screeches from behind Anhiel as the now bound enemy commander is dropped in the center of the bridge, her finely crafted armor impacting the ground is the source. Jet black bangs sway forward until she sits up on her knees, casting a menacing gaze towards her captors. She cackles, and with an amused voice adds, “It is futile, neither the Sith nor the Republic possess the technology nor the understanding to control our….”
Sun’s voice carries from the far side of the bridge with an irritated edge to it, still perturbed by Anhiel’s teaching style, “Link has been opened, Grandmaster, and is established with the vessel registered to a Prince…. Arcann. I have looped in as many other vessels as possible but it was not possible to get them all.” From above, an impatient voice fills the bridge, “Commander Syaval, you should be en route to Korriban. What is the meaning of this delay?” Which of the two princes spoke is unclear and Anhiel remained quiet for the moment. The captured Commander calls out, “Forgive me, Princes. We were ambushed by…” What followed was halted by the screech let out by the bound woman. The armor that wrapped around her left lower leg began to crumple under an unknown force. As the metal bends inwards, it presses into the supple flesh beneath it until blood begins to run down the woman’s leg from open wounds. The image of the struggling Commander is sent across the link and displayed aboard the flagship and several vessels throughout the enemy’s position. Anhiel’s cold voice carries through the link after her victim quiets some, though she remains off screen. “I was not prepared to speak to royalty on this day. However, I was expecting more resistance; but from what I have seen here, it is no small wonder your forces have been as successful as they have been.” She pauses for a moment, turning slightly towards Commander Syaval. Her right hand raises with fingers extended before they tighten into a fist. As the motion completes, more metal begins to compress around the woman, this time across her torso, compressing her chest and diaphragm resulting in haggard, raspy breaths.
From her position by the control panel, Sun watches in abject horror and with a quick input, mutes the communication. Indignantly, she admonishes the Grandmaster, “Grandmaster, this cannot be allowed. What do we gain from such a display?” The displeasure in Anhiel’s voice is palpable as she responds, tightening her fist even more, “Resolve is one of the most deadly weapons an army can possess. The more we erode it, the greater our chances of success. If you disapprove of my methods, then I suggest you take matters into your own hands so I do not have to.” Lighting now erupts from Anhiel’s extended hand, her left hand waving slightly to unmute the link. The screams of the Commander echo off the walls of the Bridge as well as all vessels that listened in. She trashed around erratically as the green and blue tendrils of electricity coursed over her whole body. Seconds passed like an eternity, perhaps it was minutes that Sun watched on, frustration rising within her until she reached out a hand and closed her eyes benetheath her helmet. She felt the pulsing artery within the tortured woman’s neck and with precision, occluded it until she fell silent. The yellow that began to swirl amongst the usual green of her irises is hidden from all those except for Anhiel. Pleased, the Grandmaster relinquishes the lightning storm and folds her hands behind her back. In a calm, collected, but promising voice she adds one final comment to the unknown prince listening in, “We shall await you at Korriban, Prince. Bring the best that you have to offer. The Sith are not easily beaten and the Silver Butcher will elevate them to a level they have never obtained before.” The link is cut and Anhiel barks two orders. “Gather what data you can from the mainframe and set charges on the core. We leave in ten, and what I should see remaining of this ship afterwards is dust.” Anhiel begins to stride from the bridge, keying on her comm just before crossing the threshold.
On the Shadow Redeemer, Vice-Admiral Virkean responds, “Ma’am, several enemy vessels have been crippled and are unable to continue fighting. The rest have been destroyed. Our strategy was effective but not without casualties of our own.” Without hesitation, Anhiel orders flatly, “Destroy all remaining enemy vessels; there shall be no survivors. I am sure they would have done the same. Then prepare hyperspace solutions to return to base. We have much to do in order to prepare with very little time.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “Send a message to Darth Acina and pass along what information we have on the invasion of Korriban that is to come. Inform her our forces will be en route as soon as able to lend our support. I don’t want to start an unnecessary conflict by arriving with a fleet, unannounced. I know not who currently oversees operations on Korriban.” The Vice-Admiral’s expression is hard as he nods once, stating simply “Your will be done, my Lord.” before turning to the crew behind him to gesture to the communications specialist. A fleet wide link is opened and Virkean speaks with authority, “All ships, resume bombardment of all remaining vessels, save for the flagship. The High-Admiral’s strike force is still aboard and will see to its disposal. Once all vessels are destroyed, return to base using standard misdirection hyperspace solutions. The enemy may have reinforcements nearby.” Moments after the orders are given, the space before the Shadow Redeemer lights up with turbolaser fire. Virkean watches for several seconds until he turns and moves to the nearby console to begin drafting the message to Darth Acina.
Darth Acina,
It is my sincerest desire that this message finds you well despite the current affliction worming its way into our galaxy. For the sake of brevity, I shall assume you possess at a minimum a basic level of knowledge regarding this ongoing invasion by the “Eternal Empire”. To my knowledge, they still control the space facilities around Balmorra and I am sure other facilities, both Sith and Republic, but I digress. The purpose of this communication is to advise you and through you the Dark Council, of an imminent invasion of Korriban by this “Eternal Empire”.
Through a series of unforeseen events, myself and by proxy the forces under my command have pledged allegiance to a most intriguing Jedi, Grandmaster Anhiel Dulcinae. She commands a task force that is not affiliated with the Republic and has been engaging this mostly unknown enemy as often as is feasible. As I write this message, the light from our turbolasers and the explosions that rip apart their vessels is filling the bridge. As of now, this is the only resounding victory that has been achieved against this foe and it was not without a price. We have learned that this particular task force was to serve as the vanguard for the invasion of Korriban. I have included what data we were able to acquire as well as data on tactics, though it is slim as they have proven to be quite adaptable.
My Lord is confident this defeat will only temporarily delay the invasion and advises that preparations to repel it begin immediately. She also offers to aid directly and requests a point of contact to notify of our imminent arrival and to discuss logistics with. Our fleet will be en route as soon as refueling and regrouping operations are complete. We shall repel this invasion or die for the glory of the Empire.
With regards,
Vice-Admiral Virkean
Shadow Redeemer
After the message is sent, the High Admiral’s vessel touches down in the hanger of the Shadow Redeemer. Virkean looks up to see what little remained of the enemy vessels as the last flashes of turbolaser fire struck their targets. He turns and addresses the helmsman, “The High Admiral is aboard. All ships enter Hyperspace as able.” The order is acknowledged and moments later the stars begin to stretch before the capital ship disappears into Hyperspace.
Light years away, a blip flashes on a console in a dark, stoney room. A woman just shy of middle aged with black hair and nearly translucent skin strides over and sits in the chair before the console. Her facial features are recognized, unlocking the console and she opens the message that had come through the emergency channels. A minute passes as her eyes move back and forth, taking in the words on the screen. Once complete, she leans back in the chair and exhales deeply while looking up at the ceiling. A thought flows through her mind, “That name…it sounds familiar….” She sits up once more and makes several more strokes on the console, navigating multiple screens until she stops on one with an image of a young woman with pristine white hair. Darth Acina’s words echo off the barren stone walls, “The Silver Butcher….” Once more she ponders the words in the message while gazing at Anhiel’s image before coming to a decision internally, “If the Butcher perceives a threat and offers her aid we would be fools to ignore it.” Beeps from successive keystrokes now fill the chamber as the Sith Lord drafts a response.
Vice-Admiral Virkaen,
First, allow me to express my gratitude to you and your Lord for the intel on the planned invasion and the enemy perpetrating such a daring act. Although many of my comrades will disagree with the decision, I welcome the aid your Lord has offered. The Silver Butcher is a fearsome warrior and we would be remiss to pass up the opportunity to shed blood alongside her; I dare not attempt to count the number of Sith she buried single handedly during the great war.
Darth Atroxa currently commands forces on Korriban. I have included her direct frequency and will send a message to prepare her for your contact and arrival. I will not be able to meet you in person so please pass on my highest regards to your Lord.
For the glory of the empire,
Darth Acina