Private Common Ground

[Kallous]

Kallous was relieved when his words were heeded. He was pleased to know that he was working with someone who valued strategic gain over personal glory, and understood that sometimes not shooting was better in the long run. Kallous knew they would be found eventually, but as Veyla had realized, the longer that takes the more time they buy for the people behind them to finish their work. And as a happy side effect, the less time they spend shooting, the less time the enemy spent shooting back, which meant the less likely they were to take casualties of their own.

Sadly, it did not last quite so long as Kallous had hoped, the squad vehicles were more thorough in their search than he had anticipated. And some seven or so minutes later one of the vehicles came within tens of feet of their position, and most certainly spotted them. It was time to cause some mayhem.

"Weapons free." Kallous said.

They had been spotted, their momentary reprieve had bought them minutes, and that was enough to matter. Seven minutes was enough for a shuttle or two to land, load up and take off. That meant those minutes had saved people. Much as he would have preferred to remain undetected for longer, searching for people that were trying to hide was another specialty of police. Kallous found himself musing at just how well suited to fighting them these civilian enforcers were. Rather than being your average infantry grunt, every single one of them was taught how to think on the fly.

And that made this foe uniquely dangerous.

As he spoke Kallous reached out his hand, and with the Force he grabbed the squad car and pulled it off of its flight path, slamming it into the wall of the canyon. It was too late to conceal their position any longer, but perhaps he could interrupt their reporting the specifics. Either way, it was going to get very hairy, very soon.

Veyla would hear over her comms. "Armored Shuttles taking off. Four. Two heading for the North Shelf. Two to the Southeast."

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

The patrol craft had barely crossed the final stretch of canyon before Veyla knew the game was over. Seven minutes. Seven minutes of uncertainty, hesitation, and confusion. Seven minutes bought for frightened civilians loading onto evacuation shuttles behind them. It wasn't as much time as she would have liked, but it was enough to matter. Every family that got off-world during those minutes was a victory the enemy could never take back.

Then Kallous gave the order. Weapons free. A faint grin touched the corner of Veyla's mouth beneath her helmet. The scout vehicle never had a chance. One moment, it was sweeping through the canyon in search of signs of resistance; the next, Kallous ripped it from the sky with the Force. The transport slammed into the canyon wall in a violent shower of sparks and twisted metal, debris scattering across the rock face below. So much for remaining hidden.

The warning came across the comms only moments later. Four armored shuttles were lifting off. Two were heading for the northern shelf. Two more were moving toward the southeast approach. Exactly where they had predicted they would go. Veyla rose slightly from behind her cover and keyed her comm. "All units, contact confirmed. The Southeast shelf is active." Her voice remained calm and controlled despite the fact that the battle was clearly entering a new phase.

She settled her rifle into her shoulder and tracked the incoming craft through her scope. "Looks like we're done hiding." There was no excitement in her tone, only the practical acceptance of a warrior watching a plan unfold exactly as expected. Her eyes remained fixed on the approaching shuttles while she continued. "I'll take the southeast pair. We can try for engines and repulsors first." Her gaze flicked briefly toward Kallous before returning to the target. "No promises."

The nearest shuttle continued its approach, unaware that Mandalorian rifles were already tracking its flight path. Veyla steadied her breathing and adjusted her aim, calculating distance, speed, and angle. "If disabling them works, great," she said quietly. "If not, they're still not reaching that landing zone." Then she fell silent, finger resting beside the trigger as she waited for the perfect shot and prepared to make the enemy's first deployment attempt considerably more difficult than they expected.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

"There's no need to worry about using non-lethal solutions." Kallous told her. "Do what you need to. The people behind us are more important than the people in front of us. No unnecessary risks."

Kallous wasn't exactly happy about having to kill law enforcement, these men and women who simply wanted to do good in the world. But right now they were being used as a military unit to go into contested territory. These were enemy combatants, and as such they would receive no mercy from him.

Kallous waited for them to come into range, he felt for the ripples that always came with the force. The currents letting him know when was the time. Then he felt it, the currents sped up, gained strength. And he spoke.

"Now. Bring it down."

The two dropships that were going for the southeast shelf were easy enough to see, and now they were well within the effective range of their weapons, while still being far enough away from their landing that if brought down swiftly they would not be able to recover from the assault in time to make that landing. Best case scenario both ships crashed and burned, bringing their crew and cargo with them. Worst case scenario the two ships shrugged off the incoming fire and made their landing in an exposed position that could be contested from where they were with no real way to safely advance on them. It would even the playing field a little to be sure, but it wasn't the worst that could happen.

"ETA 90 seconds. Dropships are coming in to land on the North." Veyla would hear in her comms.

The North shelf had been fortified already with mines and other such defenses, and a small squad that could hold it down for a short while if need be. Right now the Southeast should be their focus, since it would be easiest to deal with quickly, and was also the least defended. But if things got bad to the north, Kallous would make his way there to hold the line himself.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla gave a single nod at Kallous' response. There was no argument from her. The moment law enforcement officers were deployed into a combat zone as an armed force, the situation changed. She didn't have to like it, and she certainly didn't have to take satisfaction in it, but she understood the reality of what stood between them and the refugees they were protecting.

"Understood," she replied simply. "No unnecessary risks."

Her attention shifted back to the approaching dropships. Through her scope, she watched them skim over the terrain, moving quickly toward the southeast shelf. Professional pilots. Disciplined approach vectors. Whoever was directing the operation wasn't incompetent. Unfortunately for them, they were flying exactly where Kallous had predicted they would. The warning about the northern shelf flashed briefly across her HUD, but she left that concern where it belonged for now. The northern defenses had been prepared. The southeast was her problem.

Then Kallous gave the signal.

Now.

Veyla's rifle barked immediately. The first shot wasn't aimed at the cockpit or troop compartment. Instead, it targeted one of the vessel's maneuvering assemblies near the rear quarter. Around her, Mandalorian weapons opened fire in coordinated succession. Red and blue plasma lanced across the canyon, converging on the two incoming transports before they could reach their intended landing zone.

"Focus fire on the lead shuttle," she transmitted to the warriors nearest her position. "Bring down one, then shift to the second."

Her next shot followed the first almost immediately. Years of training guided the rhythm. Fire. Adjust. Fire again. The objective wasn't glory, and it wasn't destruction for its own sake. It was denial. Every second the transports spent fighting for control of their flight path was another second they weren't unloading troops onto the shelf. Every evasive maneuver bought more time for the evacuation effort behind them.

As another volley streaked into the sky, Veyla kept her eye fixed on the nearest transport and keyed her comm once more. "North shelf, report the moment they make contact. Southeast is engaged."

Then she settled back into the rifle and continued firing, determined to make certain neither of those dropships reached the ground uncontested.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous had not intended to, nor realized he had, begun giving orders. He had been an advisor here, not a commander. This was her unit, not his. He had all of the direct intel, which he had given to her. But old habits took hold, and the commander that he had been not too long ago emerged again to take charge of the situation in which he found himself. This was something that seemed to simply happen.

He would have to apologize for it later, once the action was over.

"Keep me updated about the situation to the north." He said to Veyla. "I can head that way if things get dicey."

For now he was still largely out of the fight. Which was beginning to bother him. He was a far cry from the bloodthirsty slaughterer he'd started as, but he was nevertheless a man of action and principle. As much as he understood that it was best he not get directly involved until strictly necessary, for the same reasons that they had waited when they could have fired. The moment these officers saw a lightsaber they would pull back, give them breathing room, but they would send an interstellar message to whomever was commanding them from offworld, and request real reinforcements.

"ETA 30 seconds."

The second he was discovered, was the second that the countdown began. And they would have to be gone by the time that countdown ended, or else their lives would become a lot more complicated.

The two shuttles racing for the southeastern shelf came under fire, immediately began evasive maneuvers. It did not save the lead one, which was too slow to react to being hit. Several direct hits to its steering mechanisms rendered it a casualty. Too inoperable to make the landing. The lead dropship broke away to return to camp, to save its crew and passengers. The second had broken off its course to evade the gunfire as much as it could. It was a fast moving target, so it was not easy to hit, but Mandalorian marksmanship was legendary, and was up to the task of damaging the vehicle.

Soon enough the second one also broke away, intent on saving the officers on board.

"Dropships touching down, minefield active."

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla watched the damaged transports peel away from the shelf through the magnification of her scope. One had taken enough punishment to force an immediate retreat, while the second had been harassed off course and driven back before it could complete its approach. Not destroyed, but denied. For the moment, that was enough.

A quiet breath escaped her.

"Copy."

The reply was directed toward Kallous without any trace of irritation at the fact that he had slipped naturally into issuing orders. In truth, she had noticed it several minutes ago. The difference was that every assessment he had made so far had been correct, and she was practical enough to recognize useful experience when she saw it. There would be time for discussions later. Right now, there was only the battle.

"I'll keep you informed."

Her attention shifted immediately to the northern shelf as the latest report arrived. Dropships touching down. Minefield active.

The words were followed seconds later by distant flashes along the ridgeline. Explosions rolled faintly through the canyon as at least one of the defensive charges detonated. Whether it had crippled a transport or merely disrupted the landing, she couldn't yet tell.

"North defenses are engaging," she reported after checking her tactical display. "No request for support yet."

Her rifle lowered slightly as she continued monitoring both sectors. The southeast threat had been temporarily neutralized, but the enemy had learned something important. They now knew they were facing trained opposition with anti-vehicle capability. That meant the next response would be smarter, heavier, and far less cautious.

"They've lost their first probe and their first landing attempt," she said, her eyes narrowing as she studied the movement below. "The next move won't be reconnaissance."

Far beneath them, the enemy camp had become a hive of activity. Vehicles were repositioned. Personnel were gathering. Commanders were adapting.

Veyla settled back behind cover and checked the power pack on her rifle.

"For what it's worth," she added quietly over the comm, "your instincts have been right so far."

Then her focus returned fully to the battlefield.

The enemy had been bloodied.

Now they would start getting serious.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous was relieved to see that Veyla was not so irritated with him as she had the right to be. Still, he would be conscious of it from then on.

The two damaged transports falling back, and the two that landed on the north shelf soon packing up to join them for a retreat and regroup after encountering the minefield, signalled the next break in the action. Thus far each engagement had been remarkably brief. And that was for the better. Prolonged engagement was not something Kallous wanted them bogged down in. They had a decent place to retreat to in order to escape, but not another place where they could fortify and hold in the short amount of time they would have. So he wanted to keep these engagements brief and decisive.

And that was about to become a lot harder.

Veyla's comment that his instincts had, thus far, been correct, earned a grateful nod from the man.

Kallous kept his eyes fixed on the camp below. The activity had changed. It had gone from the frenzied sprinting it had been a short while ago to a far more regular, but still incredibly active, state of awareness.

"They're deliberating." Kallous said with certainty. "We have a little while to rest and rearm. They will spend some time discussing what they know and how to deal with us. That means time. How goes the evacuation? Any hiccups?"

Assuming that there had been no delays. Chances were they wouldn't have to endure for too much longer. With the amount of time it would take for the enemy to plan and execute their next offensive, Kallous estimated, assuming the evacuation was going smoothly, that they would have to hold out for another one or two, at most three, offensives before they could safely pull out and bid the world farewell.

He hoped thing went that smoothly, but he reminded himself again. No plan survives contact with the enemy.

He had to assume that something would go wrong. And to that end he kept himself ready to personally tackle whatever jeopardized their position.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla remained prone behind the ridgeline, her rifle resting across the stone as she watched the enemy camp through her scope. The shift Kallous described was visible even from this distance. The frantic urgency was gone. No more rushed deployments. No more reactionary probes. The officers below had withdrawn to compare reports, organize information, and decide what came next.

That worried her more than the fighting had. A disorganized enemy made mistakes. The patient kind learned.

"You're right," she said quietly, lowering the magnification on her scope. "They're done guessing."

Her gaze swept across the camp, noting clusters of vehicles, movement between command elements, and the subtle signs of a force reorganizing itself after an unsuccessful advance. They had bloodied the enemy's nose, but they hadn't broken them. The next push would come with better intelligence and a clearer understanding of what stood on the ridge waiting for them.

At the mention of the evacuation, she immediately keyed into the command channel. Several updates populated her HUD a moment later. Transport departures. Medical shuttles. Passenger counts. Loading progress.

"Evacuation is holding together," she reported after reviewing the information. "No major delays. Medical transports are cycling. Refugee movement remains steady. A few bottlenecks near loading zones, but nothing unexpected."

A small measure of tension eased from her shoulders. That was the entire reason they were here. Every transport lifting off the surface made this fight more worthwhile. "If the pace holds, we may not need much longer." She didn't sound optimistic, just realistic, because she agreed completely with his assessment: no plan survived contact with the enemy.

The enemy had already proven more capable than many would have expected from a force of police and emergency responders. They adapted quickly. They communicated effectively. They understood reconnaissance, probing actions, and controlled withdrawals. That made them dangerous.

Her attention returned to the camp below. The enemy formations continued to shift as officers moved between vehicles and command posts, preparing for whatever decision came next. Veyla watched them for several seconds before speaking again over the helmet comms.

"Whatever comes next, I doubt they'll waste time repeating what already failed." Her gaze shifted briefly toward Kallous. "Get some water while they're thinking. You've been predicting their moves all day. I'd rather not have my advisor collapse from dehydration right before the interesting part." Then she turned her attention back to the valley, waiting to see what conclusion the enemy commanders would reach.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous let out a relieved breath, they had some time.

"Let's hope that continues to hold true." He mused almost to himself when she told him the status of the evacuation. It was good to hear that so many had made it out already.

He took her advice, and took a swig from his canteen. "Truth be told I don't think you really need me that badly. You seem to be up to speed even without my input. I'm not sure how many campaigns you've seen, but with how well you seem to handle this I'd call you a seasoned veteran. Nevertheless, I appreciate the concern."

The police beneath them discussed and plotted for a while. Though it seemed as though they were doing more than just that. Workers could be seen from a distance scrapping in real time the four damaged dropships and welding the extra plating onto a few of their heavier transports, up-armoring the vehicles they intended to use in their next offensive. It was a crude solution, but a good one. Their weapons were high powered sure, but their weapons were still limited. They had only managed to damage the vehicles, not bring them down, so extra armor was liable to make it that much harder to deal with.

"I have a bad feeling about this..." Kallous said aloud. "Hmmmm... is it possible to spare a couple more of your men for the north ridge? Something tells me that will be the focus of their offensive."

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla tilted her head slightly at his assessment. Under different circumstances she might have pressed him for specifics, asked what exactly gave him that feeling, but at this point Kallous had earned the benefit of the doubt. Every instinct he had voiced throughout the operation had proven worthwhile. Not perfect, but accurate enough that ignoring him would have been foolish.

"Your intuition hasn't been wrong yet," she said evenly. "And I've learned to pay attention when someone survives this long by listening to theirs."

She keyed her comm immediately. "Vorren, reinforce the north shelf. Two additional fire teams. Quietly. I don't want them advertising the movement." An acknowledgment came back through the channel a moment later. The order was simple, and the Mandalorians executed it without question. Within moments several armored figures began repositioning through concealed routes behind the ridgeline, moving to strengthen the northern defenses before the enemy could capitalize on any weakness there.

Her gaze remained fixed on the activity below. More welding. More vehicle movement. More organization. The officers had stopped reacting and started adapting. That alone made them more dangerous than the first wave.

"And you're lending more help to this operation than you're giving yourself credit for," she added after a moment. "Besides, if not for you, my people nor I would be here. Those refugees would be facing this alone."

The words came naturally. There was no attempt to flatter him. Simply an acknowledgment of fact. Whatever Kallous thought of himself, he had recognized the threat, organized the evacuation, gathered intelligence, and called for aid before the situation became unrecoverable. Many people would be alive because of those decisions.

As she continued studying the valley, a sudden chill crawled down her spine. Veyla frowned. The temperature hadn't changed. Neither had the wind. Yet something about the scene below felt different.

Her eyes narrowed behind her visor as she watched several of the newly reinforced transports begin moving into formation. Additional vehicles rolled forward from the rear of the encampment while engineering crews rapidly finished bolting salvaged armor plates across their hulls. Above them, engines ignited. Not the small scout craft from before.

Something heavier.

"Movement," she said quietly.

Several armored transports began advancing simultaneously, spreading out rather than remaining in a single column. Behind them came shield teams moving on foot. More concerning still, a second wave of aircraft lifted from the encampment, climbing higher than the previous reconnaissance patrols before splitting into multiple directions.

The enemy had finished deliberating.

And whatever plan they had settled on looked considerably more ambitious than the last one.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Here it was. The foe was coming, they were coming fast, they were coming hard. And they seemed intent on punching through with all the weight they had behind them. It would be rough.

Kallous couldn't help a grin come across his face in anticipation. He wasn't some manic murderer like the Sith he had been all that long ago, but he still enjoyed the thrill of combat. And if there was anything that would give him a reason to join the fray, this no-holds-barred, combined-arms assault would be it. From the ground and from the sky they would be pressured. The testudo approaching from the trail, force-shields powered up and ready to deflect and absorb whatever bolts they sent their way. Impromptu gunships supporting them from the air, up-armored to keep them from dying too quickly, transports screaming at full tilt to punch through their defenses.

This was it, no more skirmishing, no more poking and prodding, no more dancing around. This was it, this would be a confrontation to decide the outcome. Would they get everyone out? Or would they be overwhelmed, and die saving only most of their charges. This next clash would tell them.

Kallous didn't miss however, the way the Veyla had briefly changed her demeanor moments before the offensive began in earnest. Though he more felt it as a ripple in the waters, as opposed to physically seeing Veyla's expression. It would seem that his unintentional commandeering of her operation wasn't the only thing they would need to talk about once the smoke had settled.

One of the armored transports approached the cliffs, but it didn't go for any of the shelves. Rather it parked itself in the sky a hundred or so meters away from their position, and opened its side doors. Inside was a wall of shields, and riflemen behind them. The police inside laid down a fusillade of blaster fire at their position. It was more suppressive than it was pinpoint accurate. But that many guns at that distance meant that the only thing that would save the Mandalorians was their armor, which thankfully these officers hadn't accounted for.

How could they?

Meanwhile more transports screamed toward the southeastern shelf, intent to deliver its passengers under the covering fire of the vessel currently offending them.

"Six transports en route to North Shelf." Veyla would hear over her comms.

Some seconds later they would hear the rumble of explosions from the direction of the northern shelf.

"Minefield neutralized. They're landing. Shields and grenade launchers."

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

The moment the reports started pouring across her HUD, Veyla understood exactly what the enemy had decided: this was no probe and no feint, but a coordinated breakthrough. A curse slipped from her lips before she could stop it. "Shab."

The word was quiet, almost conversational, but it carried all the frustration of watching a competent enemy finally commit to a real assault.

Blasterfire hammered the ridgeline as the hovering transport opened up. Bolts chewed into stone, dirt, and shattered rock around them. Several struck Mandalorians directly, though beskar turned potentially fatal hits into bruises and staggered steps. Veyla ducked lower behind cover, raising her rifle only long enough to track the gunship's firing ports before another wave of suppressive fire forced her back down.

"They're trying to pin us while the landings establish themselves." Her voice remained calm despite the chaos; experience taught her that panic was contagious, and so was confidence. "North teams, tighten your defensive sectors. Prioritize grenade launchers. I don't care about the shield wall yet. Kill their explosives first."

Acknowledgments immediately filled the channel as reports and confirmations overlapped in her helmet, and Veyla quickly assessed the threat; a shield line could be broken with enough pressure, but a concentrated barrage of grenades inside a defensive position could devastate even disciplined defenders. Another explosion echoed from the northern shelf, noticeably closer than before, and Veyla's jaw tightened.

"Vorren, shift one reserve team north. Reinforce and stabilize. Do not counterattack. Hold ground and buy time."

Her attention shifted toward Kallous.

The Force user remained beside her, watching the battle unfold with the same unsettling awareness he always seemed to possess. Around them, reports continued to stream across tactical displays, each one painting a slightly different piece of the larger picture. Veyla had spent enough years commanding warriors to recognize instinct when she saw it, and Kallous had been calling developments moments before they happened since the fighting began. Whether it came from experience, intuition, or something deeper, she no longer cared.

"Kallous."

Her emerald eyes found his. "If the north starts folding, go." There was no hesitation in the statement, no concern about appearances or command hierarchy—only practicality. "You've been reading this battlefield better than anyone here." Another distant detonation rolled across the ridge. "If they break through, I need someone there who can see the opening before the rest of us do."

A transport screamed overhead as another wave of police aircraft pushed toward the shelves, the enemy finally committing all their weight to the assault. Veyla rose just enough to bring her rifle to bear and squeezed off several carefully aimed shots toward the hovering gunship's exposed firing positions. "The rest of us will keep these osiks occupied." The rifle barked again. "And if they want this ridge that badly, they're going to pay for every meter of it."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous ducked behind his own cover as the suppressive fire began to be laid down. They were caught between the bull's horns. A landing to the north and the southeast. A gunship keeping them pinned in place and the frontal advance of their spearhead.

Right now the north ridge was their biggest worry, as it was the hardest to directly defend against. which their foe had seemed to realize. Things had just gotten very bad very quickly. Still, they weren't out of this fight yet. Kallous needed to do something about the gunship and he had to do it now, or else they'd have no chance.

"Give me a grenade, I can take out the problem in front of us. Tell the rest of your soldiers to stay down until it's dealt with." Kallous said to her. "Once that's out of commission I can head northward and deal with our other problem."

Kallous wasn't some tactical genius. He liked simple solutions. He didn't do fancy moves, he didn't do sophisticated tactics. He liked things to be straightforward and simple. And right now, his plan was to use the force to launch a grenade into the open side of the transport. It was incredibly likely to kill everyone aboard, but even if it didn't it would effectively take the whole thing out of commission for good. Meaning the Mandalorians would be able to return to laying down fire of their own en masse rather than taking quick shots whenever the opportunity arose. If they wanted to make it out of here with everyone alive they needed to be putting a lot more bolts down range than they were, so Kallous intended to remove that obstacle immediately.

If Veyla agreed to arm him as he'd requested, she would see him pull the pin on the device and hurl a curveball straight into the open doors on the side of the vessel in front of them, never having left the safety of cover. The force was a handy tool for tricks like that. Seconds afterward there would be an eruption of smoke and shrapnel from inside the vehicle, screams of dead and dying officers, and the entire thing rocked violently. Throwing some of its passengers clear into the chasm beneath them. The vehicle would then pull away, it hadn't been there long enough to fully decide the battle, but it had definitely given its comrades time to get their footing. There was now an established landing on the southeast, and they had thrown up barricades to protect them from gunfire while they prepared to advance, or at least exchange shots.

Once that was done, Kallous would take off in the other direction, headed for the north shelf where the least favorable fighting was found.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla didn't hesitate. The moment Kallous extended his hand, she unclipped one of the fragmentation grenades from her belt and slapped it firmly into his palm. There were questions she could have asked and concerns she could have voiced, but she trusted him. His instincts had carried them this far, and that was enough. Remaining behind cover, she watched him work while blasterfire continued to rake across the ridgeline.

The grenade vanished from his hand. A heartbeat later, the transport erupted. Fire, smoke, and shrapnel burst from the open compartment in a violent bloom of destruction. The gunship lurched hard to one side as bodies and debris were hurled from the shattered opening. Screams echoed briefly through the canyon before being swallowed by the roar of engines and weapons fire. Even from her position, Veyla felt the concussion roll through the stone beneath her.

"Well. Remind me not to play dejarik against you."

The words carried a surprising amount of approval, but her attention quickly returned to the wider battle. The damaged transport was already retreating while the surviving aircraft repositioned overhead. More troubling was the southeastern landing. Officers had successfully established a foothold and were already erecting barricades along the shelf below. Then the next report arrived over the comms: the northern minefield had been neutralized, enemy troops had landed, and shield teams supported by grenade launchers were moving into position. Veyla exhaled slowly. "Of course they are."

As Kallous broke away toward the northern shelf, she immediately opened a squad-wide channel. "North teams, Kallous is inbound. Give him room to work and keep feeding him updates." She never framed it as placing him in command because she didn't need to. Everyone present had watched his predictions become reality throughout the day. "Vorren, shift one additional marksman north. Prioritize grenade teams and officers directing movement. Make them blind." Acknowledgments flooded her HUD as warriors adjusted positions and prepared for the next phase of the assault.

Only once Kallous had disappeared toward the northern position did Veyla return her full attention to the southeastern shelf. The battle had split, which meant she would have to split her focus as well. Rising into a firing position, she settled her rifle against the stone and lined up a shot on one of the officers directing the landing force. The rifle cracked sharply as the round streaked downrange.

"All southeastern elements," she ordered calmly, "keep pressure on that landing zone. Don't let them build momentum. Every barricade they finish is another problem later."

Her rifle barked again. "Kallous has the north. We've got this."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous blitzed through the underpasses leading toward the northern landing zone, he didn't bother waiting any longer. This would have to be it, and that meant he couldn't hide away any longer. His lightsaber blazed to life as he ran forward with the speed that only an experience force user could muster. Rushing past the Mandalorian barricades, where they were laying down a hail of blaster fire to keep the advancing officers at bay. It was not working too well. The officers had deployed their force shields in the front in a line to absorb all of the blaster fire, and forming a wall that was all but impervious to small arms fire. And behind them were the grenade launchers, able to arc their shots from behind cover, preparing to launch stun grenades and tear gas. Kallous wouldn't let them.

Leaping clean over the wall of shields, Kallous became a whirlwind of death. His saber cutting through the unprepared foe. The shock of his assault was also enough to disrupt the shield formation, and open up a few gaps that the mandalorians could exploit.

But now he was known. Already he knew the pilots of the landing craft were radioing back to their commanders that he was there. And now that they knew they were up against a force user, they would call in for real reinforcements. It would trigger a full military response. This would not be able to arrive immediately, so they had some time, hopefully enough time, but that also meant that once that time was up they would have to gone, or they would be stuck there until captured or killed.

The situation had ceased to get worse. The line on the north was holding, stable now that the enemy's landings had been disrupted and their forces now making an attempt to pull out. It wouldn't take long for that news to also reach the other units. They advanced for some minutes more, the firefight would be sustained for some ten, fifteen minutes before Veyla and her troops would notice the police begginning to pull back their advance on the trail, and the unit to the southeast began to bunker down, more interested in staying put and staying alive as opposed to pushing forward any futher.

The advance had been halted again. And this would likely be the last they would be fighting against these police. It was entirely likely that the police would simply hold what they'd gained already, and wait for the military response to arrive.

"North Shelf secured. Enemy withdrawal." Veyla would hear. "Kallous is returning to main line."

True to his word, Kallous would show up beside Veyla again some moments later, lightsaber back on his belt where it had been when he'd left.

"How goes the evactuation?" He asked immediately, "Any delays at all?"

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla watched Kallous return to the ridgeline and felt a measure of tension finally ease from her shoulders. The moment she had seen his lightsaber ignite on the northern shelf, she had known the battle had entered a different phase. It had solved the immediate problem and stabilized the position, but it had also announced their presence in a way they could no longer take back. Whatever anonymity they had enjoyed was gone now. The enemy knew exactly what they were facing.

As reports continued to stream across her HUD, she reviewed them carefully. The northern line was secure. The police units that had landed there were withdrawing under pressure. The southeastern foothold had abandoned any serious attempt to advance and had instead begun digging into defensive positions. For the moment, the battlefield had settled into an uneasy pause.

When Kallous asked about the evacuation, Veyla checked the latest updates. Passenger counts, shuttle rotations, medical transfers, and departure schedules filled her display. She studied them for several seconds before allowing herself the faintest smile.

"Actually, no delays."

The words sounded almost surprised even to her. "A few bottlenecks and some confusion, but nothing outside expectations. The transports are cycling efficiently, medical evacuations are keeping pace, and people are continuing to move." Her gaze drifted toward the distant corridors where ships continued to rise into the sky, carrying refugees away from the fighting.

"Working together like this has been fortuitous." The admission came easily. There was no reason to pretend otherwise. "You've helped us stay ahead of every major problem they've thrown at us. More than once, you've identified the threat before it became one."

She reviewed the remaining numbers one final time before nodding to herself. "I think one more wave, maybe two, and we'll have evacuated everybody who agreed to join. If things continue at this pace, our window is holding."

Her eyes settled on the enemy positions below, where police units were now reinforcing cover rather than advancing. "They're buying time now," she said quietly. "And after what happened on the north shelf, I'd wager they're calling for every military asset they can get their hands on. Our objective is almost complete. We just need to finish it before whatever comes next arrives."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

"I'm sure you would have fared just as well in my absence." He said seriously, no hint of deception in his voice. "Your instincts are almost as sharp as mine, you can read the field very well and understand the inner mechanisms of the situation well enough that you would have made all the same calls even without my input. Besides, it's me who owes you and your men my compliments and gratitude. You came to help people who needed it. People who weren't your problem, who were in a diplomatically inconvenient place for you, and you chose to commit yourselves to a potentially lethal situation to help them anyway. So thank you."

He took another drink from his canteen as he watched the camp down below. The activity had changed again, not so deliberate anymore, at least not quite so much.

"We shouldn't drop our guard, but I don't think they are going to be trying again." Kallous said to her, "Unless they make an attempt to rescue their friends on the southeastern shelf. I give it maybe three or four hours before the military arrives to deal with us. And as long as the evacuation continues to go well we should be out of here by then."

In spite of his saying this, he kept his eyes firmly locked on the camp down below. Vigilant and watchful, he wasn't willing to take a gamble and simply say he was right. He wasn't ready to relax just yet. They had to keep their watch for a little while longer. And once the final civilian transport shuttle had disappeared, then they could leave and depart for safer space, and call their mission a success.

"Any casualties?" He asked her, wondering if any of the mandalorians had been killed or seriously hurt.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla listened quietly while Kallous spoke, her attention divided between his words and the enemy encampment below. The activity had changed again. The urgency was gone now, replaced by something more measured. More cautious. The police forces were no longer behaving like an advancing column. They were behaving like people waiting for someone else to arrive and solve the problem for them.

A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth when he insisted she would have managed without him.

"Perhaps." The single word carried just enough amusement to make it clear she wasn't entirely convinced. "But I'd rather have had your help than tested the theory."

Her gaze remained fixed on the valley below for another moment before she finally looked toward him. "And you're welcome. Mandalorians don't get to choose when people need help. We only choose whether we answer." There was no grand speech behind the sentiment. No self-congratulation. Simply a statement of fact. The refugees had needed assistance, and so Mandalorians had come.

At his assessment of the battlefield, she found herself nodding in agreement. The enemy posture had shifted too dramatically to suggest another immediate assault. The police had already tested them several times and paid for every attempt. They would not throw more lives away without a new advantage.

Then came his final question.

Veyla keyed into her command channel and reviewed the latest casualty reports. The information populated her display quickly. Names. Armor status. Medical evaluations. Current assignments.

After a few seconds, she gave a small nod. The casualty report lingered on her display for a moment longer before she spoke.

"Two dead." The words came quietly, the earlier satisfaction fading into something more solemn. "A handful of wounded as well. Mostly burns, concussions, and one fractured arm from the north shelf. A couple of warriors took grenade fragments, but the armor did its job."

She closed the report and settled back against the rocky cover. "Everyone has been accounted for." That mattered, even with the losses. The refugees were leaving. Most of her people were still alive. The line still held.

For the first time since the fighting had begun, Veyla allowed herself to believe they might actually pull this off.

"Let's keep it that way until the last shuttle lifts off."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous' demeanor shifted when he heard that two of them had been lost. He had lost men before, it never got easier. But this was particularly bad because they weren't his men, they were someone else's. In a sense, he had cost the Mandalorians two of their own, in a fight that was not theirs. He did not much care for the mandalorian empire to be sure, but the people were people. No matter where one went, people were people, and each one lost was a son who's mother would grieve for him, a widow and orphans who's spouse or parent would never return home. That realization always cut deep, and doubly so now.

"We should use this brief downtime to see the wounded and dead evacuated too." He said simply, now conscious enough to not give commands as he had done so once or twice while they were here. A mistake he would still need to apologize for once they were home free. "Do you have enough to spare a small squad to escort the dead and wounded back to your ship? If they try something I can pick up the slack for their absence while they do that work."

Kallous wasn't overly familiar with Mandalorian customs. But he figured that they liked to have the bodies of their fallen retrieved if possible.

He didn't offer condolences or apologies, not yet. He couldn't afford to focus on guilt or distract her with grief for her comrades. In the heat of a firefight it was already easy enough to make those mistakes. When the adrenaline was wearing off, that was when it tended to hit the hardest. So Kallous couldn't take that chance, they would need to stay focused until they were off-world.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla listened without interruption, her gaze remaining fixed on the enemy camp below as Kallous spoke. The concern in his voice was impossible to miss, even if he tried to bury it beneath practicality and duty. She understood it. Every commander eventually learned the same lesson: casualties never became numbers. They always remained people. "The wounded have already been evacuated," she said quietly. "The first transports carried them out as soon as we had enough breathing room. They're aboard the medical ships by now. And the dead will be taken care of as well." There was a firmness to the statement that left little room for doubt. Mandalorians did not abandon their own. Whatever happened next, those who had fallen here would not be left behind.

Her eyes lingered on the valley for another moment before shifting toward him. If he did not pull away, Veyla reached out and briefly rested a gloved hand against his forearm. The gesture was simple, lasting only a moment before she withdrew it again. "Thank you," she said. "For caring enough to ask." It was not something she offered lightly. There was a difference between fighting beside people and carrying the weight of their losses as if they were your own.

Before anything else could be said, her helmet chimed sharply. The sudden burst of static immediately drew her attention. New reports flooded across her display, replacing casualty lists and evacuation updates with sensor contacts and warning markers. Veyla's expression hardened as she reviewed them, her eyes moving rapidly across the incoming data. "Looks like they got here quicker than we expected."

She lifted her gaze toward the horizon, where fresh movement was beginning to emerge beyond the police encampment. This was not another probing attack or cautious advance. This was the response Kallous had anticipated from the moment his lightsaber ignited. The military had finally arrived. For a moment, she simply watched the approaching force, measuring distances and time, before keying her command channel. "All units, prepare defensive positions. Evacuation remains priority one. Hold the line long enough for the final transports to clear."

The channel clicked silent. Veyla lowered her hand and looked back toward Kallous, the weight of the situation settling comfortably onto her shoulders like another piece of armor. "Last stand, then we go." There was no bravado in her voice, no hunger for glory, only the calm acceptance of a warrior who understood exactly what needed to be done. The refugees would leave. Her people would leave. Then they would leave.

After a brief pause, a faint smile touched the corner of her mouth. "And if extraction gets complicated, my ship has room for you." The smile lingered for only a heartbeat before her attention returned to the battlefield ahead. "You've earned at least that much, vod."

Kallous