Into Darkness (Firemane)

[Laira Darkhold]

The Fallen flashed a captivating smile at the slightly older redhead as she entered, standing and smoothing her skirt to greet Tegaea. “Oh yes ma’am, it does pertain to Airla.” Geva’s species was capable of controlling Jedi, at least to some small degree, and Geva was a selfish, egotistical brat. She at least had the self-awareness to know that’s what she was. But, stealing someone’s free will wasn’t something on her to do list. Drawing out and removing inhibitions was one thing, enslaving them was entirely another.

“I would like her to be released to my recognizance for the remainder of her stay aboard the ship.” Geva sat back down, crossing her legs once more. She sat comfortably, calmly waiting to see a reaction from Tegaea.

“Of course, I’m more interested in her for what she knows about the Dominion’s cultural aspects and social conditions and that’s why I’m advocating for her now. The information she has on those subjects is absolutely invaluable to me. I’ll make sure she behaves of course, but the guards and locks are a hassle for me to conduct my interviews in the comfort I am accustomed to.” The green-skinned alien grinned roguishly, brushing her long black hair with reddish ends from her shoulder. “I can be most accommodating to those who are accommodating to me, Miss Alcori.”

“In exchange, she and I will provide as much information on this Radiant Cloak as she is able to recall. Then you and I can work out any private deals you'd be interested in.”

~

Gun fire straffed through the edges of Laira’s stone wall as they rapidly deteriorated under the suppressing fire from the Dominion forces. Xalda began crawling up to the barrier while the redhead kept down, huddled in the middle of the barricade waiting for it to either fail and her to raise another, or for Xalda to arrive and use her more prolific skills to eliminate the machinegun nest that was holding the Firemane forces back from securing the clearing for their landing zone.

The dark elf slithered up, like a lithe snake amidst the fire and fury from the Dominion. She reached into the dirt and mud, using her own powers to destroy the nest. Lightning blasted the barrier, shattering it into pieces. Laira found herself blasted away out into the mud and water, rain pelting her from above.

Xalda surged the power through the Force, creating a chasm beneath the machine gun nest swallowing it whole. RESINT Troopers began picking off Dominion soldiers that did manage to escape, now without cover and no longer spraying fire from their weapons. The only survivor that seemed to hold his own, even if only for a moment was a Jedi in robes, doing his best to deflect machinegun fire. Stalgis’s voice came over the comlink, “All units, move up into the woods, push em back and secure the LZ.”

From above the clouds broke as the first handful of gunships carrying what reinforcements from Firemane that would be arriving were sent from the sky. They would pick up wounded and take them to someplace safer.

Laira struggled back to her feet, scrambling to find cover while the Firemane soldiers and rebels surged to cover the distance and take a foothold beneath the mountain of Fort Purity. She pulled herself back up, checked to make sure her weapons were still with her and ran back to Xalda. Adrenaline was flaring and so the redhead hadn’t noticed the burns streaking her left arm up to her shoulder from the lightning strike. “Come on, push it with me hot cakes.” She said with a smirk, moving up with the rest of the soldiers towards the base of the mountain.

Streaks of tracer rounds burst from the mountain in light sputters from the defenders, tracing downwards to the invaders and their rebel allies. Laira and her people were quick, the Death Troopers taking up positions to begin returning fire back up the mountain quickly in precise three round bursts. The enemy had started to hammer back with the Rebel's having fully committed, the Dominion now committed to countering their opponents momentum in their own way. Laira's mind filled with static, like white noise emitted on a hellish scale. She winced, covering her ears to no avail against the psionic attack. She looked to either side, Stalgis, Leo and the others clearly also affected by the disorienting presence.

~

Voices, static. Sounds buzzed in her ear, gunfire seemed to calm down with the arrival of reinforcements from Firemane, leaving Kira laying sprawled in mud, dirt, and bodies. She’d really like to be able to say this was the first time she’d been found in a similar state, but that would be lying.

“I copy,” Kira groaned, wheezing from having been choked. It was uncomfortable having bodies laying on top of her, restricting her breathing somewhat. Her blood had mixed in with the soil and that of the Dominion troopers that were tossed off of her. She started to sit up, her right arm felt like it was only hanging on by a few strands of meat and tendons, but she could still move her fingers. It was just pain.

Then she was being lifted, carried princess-style by the amazonian Sith Pureblood. Kira blushed slightly, gulping a little to quell her reaction. “Thanks,” she paused, smirking as she spoke, “Sith.” Unlike most of Firemane’s tone when they said it, filled with disdain and disapproval, Kira said the word almost like a term of endearment. When you can’t change what people say about you, embrace it was the old adage. It worked for Kira, she was pretty open about being a terrorist.

“I would offer you a shoulder rub, but I think I’m gonna need a new one.” The revolutionary chuckled at her own, relatively dark joke. She found it funny dangit!

~

"What is happening?" Knight Ganther asked the attendant officer outside the command bunker. "The enemy is gaining ground, pushing our forces back. We've yet to counter their momentum." The warrior appeared concerned. He was hardly the second in command, but he'd been assigned as the General's staff officer by the Grand Master after the defection of his Battle Master. Many staff officers had been quietly or not so quietly replaced.

"They are far better equipped than we could have anticipated. Of course the General was prepared for such an inevitability." The attendant said, no concern in her voice. "He's having the garrison deployed and instructed our mentalist to assault the enemy with a psychic scream to disorient them."

"What of our reserves? The refugees?"

The Attendant shrugged her shoulders. "His vanguard are remaining in reserve alongside the civilian refugees. The rest are being committed in stages to prepare for his master stroke. The enemy will meet harder and harder resistance as they advance and then we will snuff them out with our counter-attack. All is proceeding as he has foreseen." The losses were acceptable, victory was so assured to them.

[member="Tegaea Alcori"]
[member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]

 

[Karrigan'Xalda]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]


Like the gaping pit of chaos, the earth swallowed the Dominion infidels. The Jedi stood alone, furiously deflecting volleys of slugthrower fire ere he was cut down by the RESINT Troopers. Xalda felt his life force fade from his blood-soaked, bullet-ridden body. Firemane and Resistance troopers emerged from cover, advancing towards the woods. From the accursed sky came a few Gunships that had dared defy the tyranny of Azyr. Hopefully they would manage to evacuate wounded without being blown to bits. Only a few transports could be spared. They could lay down a barrage of fire, but not deliver anything close to actual close air support.


Azyr, the dreaded embodiment of the sky, still reigned and its fury was unabated. Hot burns covered Xalda from where the lightning had struck her. The pain was intense. Pain had been her constant companion, ever since her time as a child slave, when her mistress had subjected her to frequent whippings and floggings to put her in her place. But Xalda had survived - and made her pay for her crimes. The dark would not abandon its child.


And so the young Xioquo scrambled to her feet. Firemane and rebel soldiers were surging forward to gain a foothold. "For the Karishzar!" she called out. The remaining Cataphracts were unleashing a barrage of heavy weapons fire towards the defenders entrenched on the mountain. The Silencers followed suit, firing short, precise bursts with their bolters and high-calibre slugthrower rifles. At this distance, they were too far away to be effective at Force Suppressing, but they had a strong affinity for extrasensory perception, which helped their shots hit their mark.


Xalda's shotgun could not hit anything at this range. Instead she willed some small rocks to rise from the ground and be propelled towards the enemy at absurd velocity. Her underslung grenade launcher belched an incendiary grenade towards Dominion lines. However, the enemy was not giving way. Up there, the Dominion troops had the edge. Heavy machine guns, grenade launchers and rockets hammered the Firemane lines, conjuring a curtain of explosives and flying debris.


The dark elf was lining up for another shot, then suddenly all coherent thought vanished from her mind and she was left with naught but pain. Xalda was probably even more vulnerable to the psychic scream than most of the allied soldiers due to her sensitive hearing. It felt her eardrums were about to burst. Blood seeped out of them. Her shotgun fell out of her grasp as she tried to shield her ears. It felt like she was being hammered. Above her, the thunder roared. Lightning slashed from the sky. Cries of pain were heard across Firemane and allied lines.


The mental pain intensified. She felt as if red-hot needles were being driven into her skull. It would have caused her to scream, but no sound would leave her mouth. Then the pressure was pushed back. The pain was still there, but more bearable. Sergeant Saito gave her a hard smack. "Get up, soldier. On your feet. Freeze, and you die," the Panathan grunted. Laira would receive a similar treatment.


Seeing that their enemy was reeling, Dominion soldiers grew bolder in advancing. Militia and regulars were backed up by Jedi sharpshooters, who used the Force to guide their slugs to hit their mark. Moreover, suicidal squads of fanatics were advancing down the hill, taking advantage of the cover. They wore little armour but were high on combat stims to dull their sensation of pain. Furthermore, they had strapped bombs to their chests. Real soldiers were mixed with illusions to confuse the Firemane troops. Meanwhile, regular Dominion soldiers were trying to pull off a flanking manoeuvre.


xxx

She was still alive.

Freya awoke to find herself buried beneath debris, mangled, stinking corpses and dust. Her body ached. Good. As long as she felt pain, she still lived. But being entombed in this manner made it somewhat difficult to breathe. She responded to the pain with anger, pushing the bodies and pieces of wreckage off her with a fury. Having felt herself up, she found that all her limbs were still there. Her ears were ringing from the explosion.


Around her there was chaos. Dominion soldiers were charging, chanting and firing. Paying casualties no mind, they charged over the bodies of their comrades. The Vipers and Reapers were still shooting, but they were beleaguered. They pulled back by fire and manoeuvre, retreating to more easily defended positions. It was only delaying the inevitable though. Maybe this was the day. Shrapnel rained around her. A man screamed. Explosions ran up and down the line. She was tired and bleeding from her mouth. Her helmet's visor had been shattered.


Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Mezha was still fighting. The Vong partisan had been brought down by the butt of a Dominion trooper's rifle. A furious kick knocked the slugthrower out of the trooper's hands. Blood dripped from his thigh when she slashed him with a vibroknife. The trooper growled, but did not seem to notice the pain much, for he was pumped full of stimulants.


In response, he drew his own vibrodagger. Mezha got to her feet, looking wobbly. Both circled each other for a moment. Then the Dominion soldier struck, performing several feints, stabs and slashes. As he lunged forward with a growl, the Vong parried his arm and knicked her adversary in the gut. The armour absorbed much of the blow, but Mezha was injured while the Dominion soldier was fresh. He kicked the Vong's legs out from under her. Mezha fell to the ground and the trooper pounced upon her, furiously stabbing her.


Mezha grabbed his arm in a powerful grip that made the trooper wince, but then he elbowed her. With a quick thrust, he plunged the tip of the dagger into her chest. The Vong spat blood. But she pulled the Dominion trooper closer. Rather than try and grasp her own weapon, she brought up her right hand. It sprouted claws and she sliced the Dominion soldier's neck. Her talons were coated with his blood as he died.

She struggled to stand, removing the dagger from her chest. With a practiced grip, she flung it towards a charging Dominion soldier. The improvised throwing weapon caught him in a gap in his armour plating in the lower torso. Her razor bug nailed him, but her grasp was weak and she was wheezing. As she tried to crawl for cover, a stun grenade exploded in close proximity.

The sonic boom disorientated her. Her vision grew hazy and her mind was filled with white noise. Soldiers charged, chanting and shooting. Blood was dripping out of her chest wound. Infantry bounded from cover to cover, using the ruined hulks as shelter. She slashed a soldier with her claws, but then another clubbed her with his rifle, amidst kicks and shouts. She was down. Then there was a loud roar and the soldier's skull had been ripped apart.

Freya limped towards her, looking like an enraged fury. "You're supposed to keep the red stuff inside, Vong," she grunted, trying to help Mezha get to her feet.

"You take the five hundred on the left, I take the five hundred on the right and I think we're good," Mezha retorted, wincing as pain shot through her. "How many of those bullets do you have?" she asked, flinging her razor bug once more to cut a trooper down.

"Not enough," Freya responded bluntly. No point in mincing words. "C'mon." Her shatterbolter recharged and she took aim, firing. There was a magnificient explosion when it hit the fuel tank of a speeder and the transport went up in flames, vanishing in a plume of flame and smoke. Screams were heard from those who had been ignited.

Under the cover of their allies, the pair tried to fall back. Then the ground was ripped from beneath them by a blast of the Force and debris rained down upon them. They found themselves staring at a mechanical behemoth. A Dominion tank rumbled towards the half-buried, dazed Vong and the Firemane Sergeant, crushing bodies and debris that happened to get in its way. Its cannon rotated towards them. They were trapped between a rock and a hard place.

 

[Tempest]

[member="Laira Darkhold"] [member="Karrigan'Xalda"]

Tegaea listened patiently to Doctor Geva, and stayed silent a few seconds after she was done, as if waiting to see if she would continue. When she did not the redhead leaned forward slightly.

“Doctor Geva, I am sure many and interesting papers can be written about the barbaric perversion of society below. I am sure you can write these many and interesting papers in due course. What you have failed to realise is that we were betrayed and attacked and are currently fighting a war down there. I am searching for my daughter, to find her hopefully alive, or more likely dead. This is not a time for…any of that,” she said, gesturing broadly, but in her mind taking in the Doctor’s attire.

“The Jedi we captured, although duped, was still a leader of the Dominion. If she knows anything about the Radiant Cloak she is well advised to tell you. If she is withholding information I will ask Freya or Nyssa to grind it out of her when they return. Therefore, you can go back to her and tell her what the situation is; she can be our guest or our prisoner. If she’s our guest she will be kept in modest comfort under guard. If she’s our prisoner she will be kept in the brig and questioned. I know what she should do, don’t you?”

“When the war is won, when the Dominion are punished for their treachery and when Elpsis is returned to me in one form of another…then I will gladly release her into your care for all the studies and lectures you want. Until then she is not going anywhere. I also will be accommodating if she is accommodating with me. Are we clear, Doctor?”

XXX

Kira was alive. That knowledge made Tempest a little happier. What also intrigued her was the report of the probe before it was destroyed.
“Send a message to the Destiny. Request immediate deployment of stealthed probe to last coordinates of X0329. Alright, ladies, we’re rolling out!” she said after she disconnected the call.

Soon they were airborne with the vital intelligence they needed to hopefully track down and find their target….

XXX

It was as Mezha and Freya seemed about to make their end, when all seemed lost…the tank exploded! Overhead came the scream of low-flying engines and the rainy mist was distorted by the presence of craft overhead. Munitions fell or fired into the advancing enemy with terrible carnage, and then they were gone.

Freya would hear on her communicator. “This is Mirage Squadron, we have made our first pass. Enemy armour and frontline determined, sending co-ordinates for full barrage.” Jazan Jai Khalal, audacious as ever, had taken the weather as merely an obstacle to be overcome, and with the Force to guide her had sped under the lowering sky to engage.

Just in front of Freya there would soon fall a curtain of fire, holding back the Dominion just long enough for new troops to enter the fray. First in ones and twos, then groups and platoons, the Republican Guard troopers were reaching the field.

Though armed only basically, they were warm bodies with guns and firepower to hold back the enemy.

XXX

Colonel Leonina Varkathras monitored progress from afar, directing the coordinates from Mirage Squadron to the artillery to hit.

However, she was surprised to see more transports coming down, Firemane ones. The storm was still raging so only the smaller ones were landing here, the others were dropping down out of the storm's effect area. As more troopers disembarked she sought out someone in charge. An official looking Captain eventually was located.
“Ma’am, orders of General Defiance, she is landing the vanguard of the 6th Division here. You are still in command as you are apprised of the situation. My company is ready to deploy on your orders.”
“Move forward and reinforce our allies, use the Yazgids to provide support. We must hold the ground we have before pushing on to take new territory.”

XXX

Finally, under bombardment from ships and aircraft, from the sweeping armoured columns and artillery, the Dominion gave up trying to reinforce Purity. They left behind a devastating sight; hundreds of vehicles of all sorts strewn and blasted on the road to Nexus City. The defenders were on their own.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]


"I only want to...serve the Light and atone for my crimes," Roxane said piously. She looked down at the gun and the hands that held it. A guard uncuffed the dead prisoner from the chair and removed the body. She had done the right thing. By killing the Firemane infidel, she had prevented her from sinning more. It was right. It had to be.

"When he looks upon you, the Grand Inquisitor will see the sincerity in your eyes. There is always more joy in the Light over one sinner who repents, than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance," Inquisitor Lea said kindly.

"When will the Grand Inquisitor be here?" Diona asked. There was something...off about her aura. Something Roxane could quite place. But she was a stalwart soldier of the Dominion. To cast aspersions on her character inconceivable.

"Within a day. The adversary rains down destruction upon our cities and burns the innocent, but they are intensifying the fervour of the righteous."

"Then we will be entering combat soon? What's the situation on the front lines? We haven't received word for days."

"You know what is needed. Trust in the Light, Jedi Diona."

"I would like to help," Roxane spoke up. The vibes she was getting made her uncomfortable. She could not miss the tension. "This war started because of me...Elpsis. I cannot stand by and remain safe while others die."

"And you will, Jedi Roxane. Your commitment does you credit, but rash action serves no one."

"I beg forgiveness for speaking out of turn. But I must..."

"Help the innocent? Certainly. Your time for battle will come. The Vokara Centre of Healing is not far from here. It is a medical camp set up by the Circle of Healers. Many innocent victims of the Firemane bombardment have been brought there. Tell me, do you have any healing abilities?"

"I, well, Elpsis used to. Then she lost them as she fell into darkness. But...I know how to take care of wounded. Give basic medical aid. I could help the healers. If they would have me. I want to."

"It is only fitting that you help those who were hurt by Firemane. Jedi Diona, take our sister and some of the other repentant to the Centre. They are to be placed under the supervision of the Chief Healer. Kleon Soldier and Jedi Thorus will accompany you."

"Yes, Jedi Inquisitor." She did not...sound enthusted.

"May the Force be with us. Go with the Light, Jedi Roxane."

The pair departed the execution chamber. "Is...something wrong, Jedi Diona?" Concern filled Roxane's voice.

"It is nothing."

The gruff tone made Roxane feel contrite. "I do not mean to pry...but you seem troubled. You have done so much for me...if there is a way I can..."

"No," Jedi Diona snapped harshly. "There's a lot going on. Don't concern yourself. You're doing fine. Let's get a move on."

"Yes, Jedi Diona." An awkward silence descended upon them as they walked out. "What was it like? Growing up in the Order."

Diona gave her a look. For a moment Roxane thought she would snap at her, but then she relented. "I had a clear purpose from the moment I awoke in my birthing pod. My template was a Jedi who was martyred in battle. My sisters and I were raised in a crèche together. We learned the Code, trained together, fought together." She was quiet for a moment. "Many are no longer with us."

"I am...sorry for your loss," Roxane said feelingly, at a bit of a loss for word.

"I'm not asking for your pity."

"I do not mean pity you. You're brave, strong and forthright. But I feel for your loss nonetheless. They were your family."

"Yes, they were."

"I know this probably sounds presumptuous. You may not feel the same way...but you are starting to become like a sister to me. I cannot replace those you lost but...," she trailed off, feeling embarrassed.

"Yeah...you are a bit like to me, too," Roxane smiled when Diona gave her a reassuring part on the shoulder. "Now enough dawdling." Without further ado, they headed towards a speeder transport. Another Jedi and some repentant were waiting for them. Roxane recognised the aura of Helena and smiled.

"Elpsis...I mean Roxane," the repentant greeted her enthusiastically. "I am glad you have joined us. I knew you would embrace the Light."

"Sister Helena, it is good to see you."

"I see they let even Sith join," another repentant muttered under her breath.

"Stass, the Sith is dead. Roxane is one of us now. We are all sinners."

"I committed terrible crimes. I just want to make amends as much as I can. I will die for the Light."

"So you..."

"Enough. Spare me your petty bickering," Diona grunted.

"Saddle up. It's time for you to help those who suffered at the hands of the Sith you used to be," Jedi Thorus ordered in an authoritative voice. So they small group boarded the transport. It took a while to get the motor running.

Finally the somewhat antiquated transport got moving. They passed through the gate of the concentration camp. After undergoing a security check, they were on the unpaved road. The ground was muddy, it was pouring with rain and thunder roared in the distance. Eventually they reached what outwardly looked like a small enclave, albeit a very militarised one. There were camouflage nets, checkpoints and armed soldiers. Their credentials were verified by armed guards and Jedi on duty. Roxane could not help feel the suspicion emanating from them.

Then they were granted entrance into the small enclave. They were ushered into what looked like a hospital. Diona and Thorus exchanged a few words with one of the healers. The rooms were overflowing with patients. Some were old people or adults, but many were young. Dozens of people lay in medical beds, tended to by a number of nurses that was far too small to take care of them all. Of the droids that were there, only a handful were actual medical droids. The others had simply been repurposed. The groans and moans of the injured resounded across the trauma ward. Many suffered grievous burns or maimings.

Roxane felt guilt swell inside her when she heard the wail of a Youngling. "Victims of Firemane," Jedi Thorus informed her. His voice was cold. "They burnt our Temple to the ground. Thousands have perished. " He did not need to add 'because of you'. She knew it in her heart.


xxx

This was the end.

Their lines were being overrun. A tide of Dominion troops was sweeping towards them.

Mezha's body was a mass of pain. Blood seeped out of her chest wound. A bruised hand held her pistol. Her other hand clutched to her chest, trying to keep herself from bleeding out. The tank rumbled towards them. Raising she fired her sidearm. A bullet bounced off the mechanical behemoth's armour, obviously doing absolutely nothing.

She fired again. What else could she do? A fireball erupted and the tank was consumed by a brilliant explosion. Mezha blinked and looked at her gun. Then she heard the roar of engines and looked to the sky. The mist made it difficult to see much of anything, but she could perceive the shapes of craft flying overhead. "Friends of yours?" she asked Freya.

"Sort of," the Firemane Sergeant grunted.

Dominion forces charged and a curtain of fire descended upon them. Yun-Yammka, the Slayer God, had interceded on behalf of his warriors. His flaming sword clove through Dominion soldiers and war machies. Fire engulfed the Dominion vanguard. Dust, fire, smoke and a hellish haze rose up into the sky. Many penetrated the curtain, but then a war cry resonated from the wreckage and blood-soaked trenches. "Do-ro'ik vong pratte!"

Soldiers clad in reverse-engineered, camo painted Clone Commando armour and armed with sluggers, hand grenades and blades poured through the broken lines. They were joined by militia clad in fatigues, basic body armour and gas masks, wielding primitive slugthrowers.

Light walkers resembling constructs from long bygone wars and wheeled vehicles followed in their wake. Harsh counterfire came their way from the Dominion troops, now adjusting to this new threat that sought to tear victory from their grasp at the last moment. Explosions shook the earth, men fought, fell and died. But they pushed onward. Like a dam of blood, flesh and steel, they met the inexorable tide of the Dominion charge. The air was filled with explosions, thunder and death, along with the cheers of the surviving Reapers and Vipers.

The Andorian Guard had arrived. Would it be enough? Only time would tell.


xxx

“You're the knight in black armour now?“ There was no love lost between Natalie and the Pureblood. She did not like her and did not approve of Elpsis keeping her around. She rolled her eyes at Kira's bad joke.

“Shut up, Natalie,“ Nyssa grunted. “Shoulder just needs some glue,“ she added in response to the other terrorist, whom she liked more. She found the joke funny.

Soon they were all loaded up on the Ghoush transport then took off into the air. The concentration camp soon vanished from their sight. Loyalty and Varkasa tried to communicate with some of the freed prisoners. Many of them looked emaciated, being close to being little more than skin on bones, and so the Firemane soldiers shared some of their rations with them. The former inmates would require thorough medical care.

Kira was deposited on one of the seats. A medic tended to her shoulder to keep her from bleeding out on the way to the Destiny.

Natalie made sure she was not about to turn the floor crimson, then turned to Tempest. “I'll need some time to shift through and analyse the data. Some of it may be corrupted. I assume you guys have specialists who can help make the Dom lackeys talk. Did the probe acquire any intel?"

They were on the clock, so they would need actionable intelligence quickly. Fortunately, there were ways to...persuade people. The life she had led did not make Natalie inclined to question whether a method was moral, just whether it was effective or not. To her, the fault lines lay between freedom and oppression. Sith represented the latter and after what she had seen she was comfortable putting the Dominion in the same category.

Her cold eyes fell upon one of the captive Dominion functionaries. Disdain crossed her features. Loathing swelling up inside her. “There was a mass grave not far from the camp. Bodies dumped upon one another like garbage.“ Perhaps the most terrible thing was that such a thing did not even shock her anymore.

Incidentally, the Firemane soldiers were not the only ones who had paid the camp a visit. Shortly after their departure, Dominion soldier arrived on the scene. The few camp guards and functionaries who had managed to hide and avoid capture were accosted by them. It soon transpired that the newcomers did not serve the Grandmaster or the Grand Inquisitor. The Battlemaster would soon have a report on her desk.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Geva stopped smiling, more or less leaving her otherwise carefree persona to take the situation seriously as she was summarily dismissed. “Personally I don’t lose anything of true value one way or another. Only you and she are at stake to lose anything. I’m sure your goon squad would love to torture her some more, and I’m sure they could. Whenever they do happen to arrive back from their mission, and it’ll take however long it takes. Could be minutes, could be hours, could be days before she gives in. All that time you lose men and women fighting your war with them. And even then, everyone knows information gained via torture isn’t always reliable. Of course you could resort to Force Users, more reliable once they manage to break her will, however long that takes.” She put down the flirty, carefree scholar and picked back up the young alien girl surviving in a Humanocentric culture. Cunning and intelligence were a requirement of everyday life, a fact she usually masked with the very alluring seductress she much preferred.

“Your much more expedient option is to provide something rather than promises she has no reason to believe. Maybe-hopefully-willing-to-talk about perhaps letting her go is hardly worth her providing accurate information, and how long would it take to figure out the data was false or left out important details? All time wasted and your people’s lives lost.” Geva’s green reptilian skin rippled, the tiny scales covering her shifting as she moved.

“The quickest and most reliable way to profit from this situation for you and for her, and coincidentally me, is to provide her with something real and tangible in exchange now. Promises are lies. Actions are truth to a captive. Trust me, I've been her before." One did not make it in Imperial Space without understanding a few simple truths. One certainly didn't manipulate their way to being a recognized doctoral candidate in a humanocentric society without raising some eyebrows. That said, her position was hardly the same as Airla's, much less tortury, much more ruin your life goals and fabricate glass cielings. "Moved to the Resistance quarters without shackles or Firemane guards is tangible and visible to her. She won’t be being stood over by the people that tortured her and you’ll still have access to her if necessary. Besides, she’d still be on the ship you have command of and her movement restricted, obviously. Just technically in my custody for the duration of her stay, which if the information is good won’t be very long.” The strategy also just happened to make it appear as though Geva had actual clout within Firemane, and possibly that she could indeed pull strings to have Airla released in the near future. Added benefits and all that. Airla was smart, she would be able to tell that her circumstances, while improved didn't put her free and clear, she'd know that if she didn't give up the goods she'd be in a very bad place in a hurry.

“So?”

~

Laira clutched her ears with her muddy hands, trying to block out the dire screaming that struck her mind. Grey eyes looked up, and her companions seemed similarly disoriented, as though a chorus was screaming beside them. The redhead struggled to her feet, closing herself off from the Force. As she did so the scream faded, a dull ache in her mind left and a light roar resounded in her ears.

She snatched up her pistol taking aim, eyes widening as the Dominion militia men rushed forward from their cover, from their safety. The ranger snapped off a round from her Renegade, taking one of the rushing rabble in the chest. He fell and her aim moved to the next when he detonated into a billowing plume of fire reaching for the sky. “Suicide bombers. Aim for the knees.” Stalgis’s voice seemed so far away, acknowledgements called out, at least that’s what they sounded like to Laira behind the roar in her mind. One of the militia sprinted forward diving towards the squad, the redhead focused on his hand, the object held in it with her mind. Her stomach lurched and her mind swam as the dull roar became an ear piercing wail as she used the Force once more. With a pop, the grenade he held disappeared from the fanatics hand. He seemed confused, looking at it with shock just long enough for Leo to hammer him with a disruptor blast that turned him to dust. A small explosion occurred about one hundred meters behind them, where the machinegun nest she and Xalda had once been.

It was hard to concentrate on a new place, just the first one the redhead thought of.

The pistol came back up, snapping off another round at a soldiers legs. The bolt seared through his flesh, causing him to fall wildly. The grenade he had been clutching went flying. Stalgis’s voice tried to cry out over the din of the psychic scream. “GRENADE!” But it went unheard. Dar and his team barely noticed it, just in time for Dar to see the primed explosive and dive on it. The explosion was muffled when it happened, but Laira could see before his compatriots grabbed his body that he was dead. Smoke and steam rose from charred flesh and concussive injuries.

Reinforcements ran forward, taking cover behind and alongside the Silencers and RESINT squadron just as the militia’s blitz became covered by accurate sputters of submachine guns, tracing along parts of the makeshift earthworks where the allied forces unleashed to most suppresive fire trying to hold back the suicide bombers.

Laira tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry despite the torrent of rain. “Xalda,” her voice hoarse. In her gut she felt the darkness within her stirring. People were dying, small explosions occurring all over the front line as the bombers died or dove into groups of their enemies. Her friends were counting on her to help them, to protect them as best she could. “Help me!” she cried, driving her hand into the earth and mud. She churned it with the Force, turning the ground in front of she and her friends into a pit of small spikes about a half inch in diameter and about a foot long each to turn back the tide of charging militia.

It was all she could think of on such short notice.

~

Kira grunted in pain when she was deposited into a seat on the shuttle, grimmacing as the medical droid began stapling the meat back together again to hold it on. She would need some time with a Bacta Suit to recover, assuming she ever fully recovered from the nerve damage. The young woman, closed her eyes sighing. “If I’m being honest, that wasn’t the first time someone had to drag me out from under two guys.” She cocked a smile as she looked at Natalie, “At least this time it wasn’t at some dive bar and I’m not hungover.”

~

“Our reinforcements have been decimated by the enemy. Our armor and artillery support isn’t coming, though we may continue to receive scattered infantry personnel.” Jedi Ganther said quietly to the Attendant officer while General Kennobi sat in silence.

“The General did not request reinforcements. He does not require them.” The Force Sensitive officer said confidently.

“Surely we needed them, or their involvement could have limited our own losses.” The Knight began, only to be cut off by the commanding voice of the General.

“Certainly, but they are dead or broken, so the numbers remain the same, do they not?” He said, his question clearly rhetorical. “I have all that I need, the trap was well set, and the enemy has sprung it in desperation. Here we will break the so called Republican Guard like waves upon the rocks and leave the fields covered in the Outsiders dead. Alone neither will stand against us for long, and after today, they will be truly alone.” The aging Jedi Master closed his eyes again, turning his full attention back to controlling his armies. A Dejarik Grandmaster moving pieces around on the board. Sometimes one had to sacrifice a piece to take a greater one, it was the nature of the game of war.

Outside, wherever there had been progress by the allies, they were met with the heaviest resistance, handfuls of veteran Jedi leading troops. Walls of weapons-fire and blazing arcs of machine gun fire throughout the jungles that covered the foothills of the mountains. The refugees and rabble that had formed the picket lines were broken, but the garrison from deep within the mountain did not consist of armed civilians but of real troops and warriors. The mentalists, their scream having served its purposes, now focused their efforts to mask troop movements. Where there was one platoon holding a trench, there appeared two. Where a company darted through the cover of the jungle, they did their best to conceal their movements so that the Guard would be assaulted suddenly and without warning from their enemies.

Firemane and the Guard held the advantage of artillery and armor in the jungles and crevasses, and whatever air support pierced the storms and survived the Dominion’s remaining guns. It was no revealed the Dominion held a numerical advantage in earnest, and they knew this place. For years they had held it and placed traps to waylay the attackers.

Kennobi nodded. It was only a matter of time now that his real army had been deployed. The Guard had fought this battle before, many of their veterans had seen this very same scenario. This was the first stroke of the Hammer of Purity they had fallen underneath before, and the last time it had left them in hiding.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

Far away from Tephrike, the Firemane High Command was reviewing the situation. The heart of the command centre was an enormous, cavernous room. Vast viewscreens stretched out across the walls. Each depicted, with varying levels of detail, the present operations of Firemane's armed forces, those of its allies and vassals. Firemane Industries was a corporate entity, but in practical terms it performed functions normally associated with a state.

The chamber was choked with desks and monitors. Staff officers, interns and aigullette-wearing aides de camps and others bustled around like drones in a huge hive. Power Armoured Granite Guards and Cataphracts flanked the entrance. Their presence was a sure sign that the Lady Kerrigan was in attendance.

Lieutenant Haldir Tathdel swallowed slightly when he navigated the hive, approaching a conference table in the situation room, after passing through the obligatory security check. Behind the table was a slender woman in an olive green Firemane general's uniform. The bright scarlet ribbon of the Star of Ashira hung around her neck. She looked a bit stressed, but her eyes were predatory.

"Uh, excuse me, my Lady," he said a bit nervously, clearing his throat. It took a moment for the Lad Kerrigan to turn away from her conversation with a Firemane officer and acknowledge him.
"Speak," she said commandingly. Those brown orbs of hers were piercing.
"Uh, the latest situation report has arrived from the Tephrike front, my Lady," he stretched out his hand with the datapad.
"Stop fidgeting," there was an air of annoyance in the Lady's words. She retrieved the profferred datapad. The Eldorai tried to read her but her face remained expressionless as she studied its contents. Then she shrugged and passed it over to General Devotion. She seemed to notice his staring. "Something you want to contribute, Lieutenant?" The young aide looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "Don't stand on parade, soldier. If you have something out with it. If you cannot open your mouth this clearly isn't the right job for you."

"I, well, our casualties are...higher than expected. The enemy is very tenacious. These fanatics are willing to throw themselves at us just to keep us from taking a couple inches of ground."
"Our casualties are acceptable."
"If I may ask, my Lady, what are acceptable casualties?"
"Whatever is necessary. It all comes down to skill, firepower and, most importantly, not losing your nerve when people are dying around you."
"I hate to sound defeatist, my Lady, but the enemy has proved stronger than anticipated," Kana Summers, the head of Production, spoke up on the other end of the table. "The manpower and materiel needed to dislodge them from their position, let alone win the war, may be..."
"Uneconomical? This is why beancounters like you should never be in charge," the Lady snapped coldly.
"We only have a limited contingent available. We're relying on untrustworthy rebel proxies - Vong - to do the heavy lifting for us. And we have entered a full-scale war with a nation of fanatics. And these reports about some of the methods Firemane troops are employing are troubling."

"Are you turning into a wet, Kana? This is war, not a dinner party. Any methods employed by our fighting women and men to subdue the enemy have my authorisation. If you cannot stomach it, go join the cowardly Silvers or the pitiful Alliance," the Lady stated caustically. "Have you ever served at the frontlines? Stormed a trench over the bodies of your dead comrades? Do you know what it's like when one hundred men lie dead before you? A thousand. No, you don't. If you - or anyone else here - feels that we should cower before some two-bit Jedi, I will accept your resignation, for defeatism is an attitude I will not tolerate. Wars have been lost because those in the rear lost their spine and infected the fighting soldiers with their cowardice."

There was silence. Kana seemed about to say something, but then Kaylah pulled her aside. Haldir could not hear the words the Firemane Vice President spoke to her. The Lieutenant looked uncomfortable. Having seemingly forgotten about his presence, the Lady turned to Devotion. "General, what's your take on this?"
"The enemy thinks that by making us bleed enough they can get us to back off, ma'am. They won't be scared by whatever firepower we throw at them," the tall, strongly built Dahomian said bluntly. "But their trap works both ways. They've got their A-Team dug in there...but this also means there's no way out for them. Frankly, this is an opportunity. They've given us the rope for us to hang them with. Take Purity, and we deal the Dominion a tremendous blow."
"My Lady, what about the Radiant Cloak?" a staff officer asked.

Siobhan waved her words aside as if they were buzzing insects. "A flowery name for a device that can be overcome. On Kaeshana, the First Order bombed me from orbit with a Star Destroyer. I pulled it down. On Gehenna, the Protectorate lost over ten thousand men to exterminate the Bando Gora. And the Jedi are not the only ones who can play with the elements. We have some of the finest elementalists in the Galaxy. It's time for them to show what they can do and turn Purity into a charnel house. They should be able to use the storm against the enemy. And we have nerve gas and napalm. The Dominion has the numbers and the will. Our will must be even stronger. Kana, you will be responsible for ensuring our troops have the materiel they need. Understood?"

Kana nodded compliantly. "Yes, ma'am."
"Ladies, we're in a war to the knife and I shall win it, no matter the cost. Lieutenant."
"Yes, ma'am?" The sharpness of her voice caused him to snap to attention. He'd thought she'd forgotten about him.
"Inform Lady Alcori and our field commanders accordingly. If need be, I shall rain nuclear fire upon Nexus City and burn the city to the ground." The cold, matter-of-fact tone of hers told everyone that she was not speaking in a sudden rage that would pass. Rather she was serious about this.

 

[Karrigan'Xalda]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]


Azyr continued to rage in the dark, pitiless sky. Thunder roared, rain poured down upon them and lightning struck. One of the Gunships that had been evacuating wounded was caught in the grip of the Dreaded One. There were powerful winds pulling it this way, than that, then it was hit by lightning that slashed from the heavens.


Experiencing severe turbulences, the transport crashed, throwing up columns of dust and smoke as it exploded. If there was a silver lining, it was the fact that the Dominion would be impeded by the storm as well. Lightning did, after all, usually hit higher points. Thus here and there bolts of lightning struck the hill the Dominion soldiers were entreched on.


However, at present this was no consolation to the soldiers trying to hold off the Dominion assault. Dominion militia rushed them, turning themselves into living bombs as they threw themselves at them with reckless abandon. The Silencers tried to take them down with accurate gun fire, freeze them with Icebreaker carbonite rifles or by using the Force to stun them. This obviously put them at risk of the mental attack, though their training meant they were better equipped at defending themselves against it. Some Firemane troopers used their bolters to fire ion rounds, messing with the detonators. Taking advantage of the distraction, Force-Sensitive sharpshooters put the Firemane and Resistance Troopers under fire, using their preternatural senses to guide their high-velocity slug rounds with unerring accuracy.


Xalda had regained her bearings. The scream had faded from her mind, leaving a dull ache and a headache behind. There was no time to rest. No reprieve. Only battle. Fight or die. Survive at any costs. It was the mantra she had lived by ever since her time in the slave pits. "Suicide bombers!" she could not tell from who the call came from. It seemed so far from her. She yanked up her shotgun and fired, sending a hail of energised shards towards a death charging Dominion soldier's legs. However, though crippled the trooper tried to advance, crawling forward across the mud-covered ground.


Clutching a grenade with his hand, he flung it through the air. Time seemed to slow. As the grenade arced through the air, Xalda reached out with the Force. As she did so, the wail came again, intensifying to an ear-piercing roar. Blood dripped out of her ears. All she could do was crudely push the explosive back. It exploded in mid-air, causing some suicide bombers who had been further away to get blown up alongside their payload. The smell of charred flesh filled the air.


Shrapnel showered the Firemane positions, but it was better than the explosives going off right in their midst. Xalda felt something sharp and hot strike her. She gritted her teeth, trying to work through the pain. Cries of pain were heard when a suicide bomber managed to get through and exploded close to Firemane soldiers. Smoke and steam rose from charred bodies. A badly maimed Firemane soldier lay there, crying out for help as he came under fire.

One of the troopers was about to dash towards him, but Saito grabbed the soldier. "Stay down, you fool. Or their sharpshooters will take you down," she ordered, yelling to make herself heard over the chaos.

"He'll die," the soldier protested.

"Yes. Now do your job or we all do," the Panathan Sergeant grunted. A suicide bomber who dashed towards them was paralysed when she reached out with the Force, effectively freezing him. However, as the Silencer restrained him, blood suddenly poured from her shoulder when one of the sharpshooters struck her. Another Firemane soldier was down on the ground a few moments later. Immediately Cataphracts directed heavy weapons fire and tracer rounds towards the rough origin location of the shot. With blood streaming from her wound, Saito was pulled down.


People fell, explosives detonated and the staccato of slugthrower filled the air, accompanied by eruptions of lightning. The roar of explosions and the cries of the wounded thundered inside the Xioquo's ears. It made her angry. Fear, desperation and rage surged through her like wild fire. Darkness stirred inside Xalda. She embraced it like an old friend. It was her shield against the cruel, burning Light and its Yedi servitors. Darkness was her shield. As was her faith in the Great Karishzar. The night was dark and full of terrors - and the Daughters were one of those terrors. She channelled her rage into action. Heeding Laira's words she poured her hands and the power of the spirits into the muddy soil.


"Join with me." She took ahold of the red-maned woman's hand, covering with her own. The Yedi yearned for death, so she would give them the push into fiery pit they so craved. They wanted to terrify her and her allies. But she had been raised in fear and in anger ever since she breathed air. More spikes rose from the ground, aiming to create a zone of denial. The power of the spirits writhed inside her as Xalda focused her willpower on some death charging militia's explosives. Their internal components, their triggers, all of it became visible to her. She tried to will some of them to detonate prematurely, ere they could reach the lines of her comrades and cause harm.


Her mental pain intensified as she felt like claws were being driven through her mind. Beads of sweat dripped down her face and back. She fed on her pain, her rage and her hatred. If they had more earth adepts, they could hit the infidels' line with a quake. It would be fitting to have Mother Earth swallow them wholesale. The Xioquo were children of the soil. The earth's gifts were theirs to command.


xxx

Everything was a bit of a blur for Freya. Half-buried as she was under rubble, she saw the tank that had been about to roll them over go up in flames. What seemed to be allied soldiers surged across the battlefield. They stemmed the tide of the seemingly inexorable Dominion advance. But the resistance they met was intense. There were bodies and broken vehicles everywhere. The stink of death was thick in the air.

Her body was a mass of pain. This triggered her anger. She pushed against the rubble, but it refused to give way. Mezha lay close to her, clutching her bloody chest wound. The roar of explosions and the thunder overhead was almost deafening. Then they could the thump of boots on the ground as soldiers closed in on them. Freya limply tried to raise her gun.

"Flash!" she heard a voice call out in somewhat accented, but still understandable Basic. Panting, she lowered her gun. "Thunder," she heard Mezha respond. "It's the Guard," the Vong spoke, her breathing laboured. Freya pushed against the debris, and suddenly it was lifted by the soldiers standing above her. One belonged to her Squad, the other two were Republican Guard.

"Corporal Fotilas," one of the Rebels introduced herself. She wore what looked like knockoff Clone Commando armour and had a slugthrower rifle slung around her shoulder. "You're with Firemane?" she stretched out her hand.

Freya did not take it. It hurt, but she forced herself to stand. "Yeah," she grunted. "What's the sitrep? How's my Squad?" Though she was a total hardarse to them, she did care about their wellbeing. Sort of.

"They're linking up with us. We've stabilised this line, but the Dominion is hitting us hard. C'mon, we must get to the command post," the Rebel gestured to them to follow. A soldier was helping Mezha walk. "Ma'am, the men say you blew up a Goliath." Freya could not see the soldier's face, but the words she addressed to the Vong officer conveyed admiration.

"And they've got a lot more chit to throw at us from where it came from," Mezha brushed the fangirling aside. "We've got to regroup, get the wounded behind the frontlines and regain momentum. Otherwise we'll drown in the tide."

Amidst weapons fire emanating from both sides, they made their way to friendly lines. Freya walked with a limp. Each step was a pain, but she was too stubborn to ask for assistance. The Reaper did not need to lean on others. Corpses were strewn across the mud-covered trenches, along with broken vehicle wrecks. Rain poured down from the sky, creating large puddles. The water intermixed with the blood and gore. Ranks of Republican Guard regulars had filled the trenches and defensive lines abandoned by the enemy. Here and there, Dominion stragglers or wounded were executed by pistol or by being stabbed with a bayonet. The Dominion offensive had been halted, but at a cost.

Freya was not the sort to debate the cost of war. She had long accepted that battle was in her blood and that one day she would probably die in a blasted hellhole like this. "Boss, you alright?" One of her soldiers had reached her. Freya was too tired to give her a bollocking for implying she might not be fine.

She grunted something. "How are we holding up?"

"Mercy didn't make it. Walther's critical. Ammo's running low."

"Salvage what you can from the dead. Take care of the wounded. And try to get through to command." Her body wanted to rest. She would compel it to obey. The injectors in her armour hissed, pumping stimulants into her bloodstream. Above them, the sky was dark, with storm clouds blotting out the sun. Behind them, the fight continued.

If there was one advantage the Republican Guard had, then it was the presence of many Force Dead soldiers. This reduced the efficacy of the illusionary deceptions the Dominion troops tried to employ, but fighting was fierce. Where the Dominion yielded ground, they made their enemy bleed. Heavily wounded soldiers were given grenades and hid among the bodies of the dead or rubble, detonating their packages when Rebels passed by. Liberal use was made of land mines and monofilament traps. Where possible, illusions concealed Dominion troopers, who were released from their cloak to fire upon targets whenever the chance came. Illyria, Dread Goddess of the Underworld, would have her realm well-stocked with the souls of the damned.

 

[Tempest]

[member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] [member="Laira Darkhold"]

Tegaea listened to Geva’s words. She immediately wanted to clamp down on deny anything. On the other hand…she didn’t like torture. She used it when needed, and she felt a little bad using it on the Twi’lek even though the woman had been part of the corrupt system which had started this mess. She could see the logic in the other woman’s words, however suspicion always trumped acceptance.

“Very well, but I will end one of my people to assist undercover. She is not noticeable at all, indeed as another Twi’lek she can assist in lulling the prisoner somewhat. I do insist that you keep the prisoner nullified from the Force though. I hardly need add what might happen were she to try and escape. We will try your way.”

XXX

In the air, Tempest glanced over at Natalie. "We've got a stack of them, yeah. I've called ahead and they'll be waiting. You'll be head of the recovery team, you have all the tech you should need, report to me and Director Alcori. As for the probe? Found a camp before it was shot down. I've sent the footage up for processing too. It might well be the next link in the chain we need."
She nodded to her. "Good job back there. Elpsis wasn't lying about your skills."

XXX

Tempest meanwhile arrived back on the Scarlet Destiny a little while later. She had witnessed the scene of the great battle mainly by the unnatural could formation, virtue a column of thunderheads over the battlefield. She smiled wryly to herself; she’d have gone there in a second. However, her mission demanded she head back to the ship, rearm and prepare for the next battle.

As she arrived on the Destiny engineers and medics were already waiting. They would take the data and the wounded away for processing.
Tempest was about to head to her quarters when an officer appeared.
“Ma’am, Lady Alcori requests your presence.”
Helmet under her arm, Tempest wordlessly gestured and then followed the aide.
Tegaea by this stage in a timey-wimey way would have finished her discussion with Geva as a fair amount of time had passed.
“Report?” Tegaea asked.
“Prison razed. Nasty place, heavily defended. Got a lot of data from the servers, the techs are looking at it now.”
“Good. The battle is raging below. The Dominion is throwing everything at us, but we have them encircled. The Republican Guard has committed their troops to aid us. It’s a bloodbath.”
“Ma’am, do you need me down there?” Tempest asked with perhaps a little too much eagerness.
“No, Tempest, I need you to follow the leads. We will get the data interpreted and hopefully find something, but before then I have a different mission for you. What’s your operational status?”
“Good. Sustained light casualties in the battle. I’ll be ready soon to go again.”
“I need you to hit a location we’ve discovered with a probe following that shuttle which escaped. We have identified several key Dominion figures there. Whilst the data is being interpreted you’ll hit that location and hopefully behead some of their commanders. Preliminary intel suggests the snake of an Inquisitor is there.”
Tempest nodded. “I’ll be ready in an hour. What’s my forces?”
“You’ll go in fast and hard. I’ll provide what you need. Oh, and Tempest…ROE is unrestricted. Anyone at this location is certainly an enemy combatant. Take prisoners if wise, otherwise….”
“Understood, ma’am.”

XXX

“Report, Jedi Kyrric,” the Battlemaster said. She had not looked up from her meditations or even opened her eyes. She didn’t need to.
“We arrived after the offworlders but before the Inquisition, Master. We questioned Tarran Administrator and several functionaries. They proved to be insufficiently respectful or cooperative, but in the end freely volunteered their information.”
‘They questioned your authority and so you tortured them until they told you what they knew,’ Mahtara thought grimly. Aloud she said, “Continue, Jedi Kyrric.”
“They remember the redheaded offworlder, but she was taken to an unknown site to the south and east.”
“Disappointing. Is that all?”
“No, Master, they said that the Inquisition base at Serene Springs was their first destination and then from there further on. They also said the offworlders would learn this from the servers.”
Mahtara faced a choice. She could let it drop, or she could try to get the information before this ‘Firemane’. Since she was already openly in revolt why not take the next step? There was no mercy for her whatever happened, may as well try to help her people and her planet.
“Move on Serene Springs, Jedi Kyrric. Find where they took her, no matter the cost. It is our only hope. Go now.”

Though she didn’t know it she was embarking on a race….

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

In Kaylah's experience, Siobhan was a decent leader seven times out of ten. Not a brilliant one, but a competent one. She had a good work ethic, was energetic and decisive. Her methods were cruder than the Vice President preferred, but they got the job done. The remaining three times she was led astray by her egotism, capriciousness and penchant for violence. Then her confidence turned into inflexibility, arrogance and an inability to accept criticism.

The briefing had come to a close. Kana had kept her mouth shut and nodded. Discussion had moved towards the Krolis situation, skirmishes with the Kraal and so on. Eventually Siobhan had retired to her office. After a private word with Kana, Kaylah had followed her. She knew Siobhan was not in conference, but she gave the door a knock nonetheless. It opened as if pulled by an invisible hand.

The Vice President stepped across the threshold, carrying two steaming cups. One was full of stimcaf for herself, the other contained Atrisian tea. Siobhan had sworn of stimcaf after her stroke. Like almost everything related to the Lady Kerrigan, the office was meant to impress. The floor was covered by a Wrodian carpet. There was a fireplace and a huge mahogany desk.

Siobhan had slipped off her green coat, leaving her in a khaki shirt and green trousers. She had also removed the bright scarlet ribbon that was the Star of Ashira from her neck. The fireplace crackled in the background, with the flames dancing across her face. She looked stressed and there were bags under her eyes. Wordlessly, Kaylah placed the cups on the desk.

"I had a word with Kana. She understands her error," she began carefully, taking a seat.

"And now you want to salvage her career," Siobhan responded flatly.

Kaylah recognised the bait. "I want to ensure the machine keeps running smoothly. We can ill afford disruptions right now," she responded calmly.

"She was your appointee, after all. It would reflect poorly on you if she got the boot."

"She was. And the Production department has been working far more efficiently since she took the helm. She just has a narrow perspective on things. The younger generation hasn't been through what we have."

"Carmen gave me a list of alternate candidates," Siobhan said pointedly.

Sometimes you had to be bold when dealing with the boss. Siobhan had a huge ego, but responded better to frank talk than pussy-footing. "I imagine, but I wouldn't recommend anyone she suggests for something other than hatchet work or your bedroom."

"Careful, Kaylah. I do enjoy our chats, but careful." The temperature seemed to drop a bit. Fortunately, Kaylah went on ski vacations on ice balls. She maintained eye contact.

"We're finishing one war and have embarked on another. Sweeping changes at the top in the middle of a crisis look bad. Make it seem like the leadership is being erratic."

There was a moment of silence. Then Siobhan finally brought the cup to her lips. This was a good sign. "Send her to me later. Impress upon her the importance of meeting my every expectation. Otherwise there are many remote outposts that could use a new resident."

Only now did Kaylah drink from her cup. "I understand that you're under a lot of pressure. I can imagine how I would feel if my son was abducted by..."

"Spare me the pity party, Kaylah," Siobhan cut her off sharply. Her voice was like the crack of a whip. "You have business to discuss."

Realising that she had crossed a line, the Eriaduan nodded contritely. She looked apologetic. "My apologies," she said softly. "But, yes, I do. Right now the fighting is still ongoing. We will undoubtedly take the fortress. But I deem it prudent to discuss our war aims for the Tephrike theatre."

Siobhan frowned. "Our war aims? My objective is simple. I mean to smash the Dominion, and I will. They took my daughter. There is a debt that must be paid, and a Kerrigan always pays her debts."

"Siobhan, you know that simply achieving victory on the battlefield is no aim. It's a tool to accomplish one. So...what are our victory conditions? Do we want to overrun all the lands the Dominion holds? Put a vassal regime in power? Will we accept defectors or only an unconditional surrender on all fronts? What will you do if they release Elpsis?"

"That situation will never come to pass because Elpsis is dead." Kaylah was taken aback by the vehemence of Siobhan's tone, but kept her composure. "If she was alive and the Jedi possessed a modicrum of sanity, they would have tried to hold her for ransom. But we have heard nothing from them. Not that I would have accepted any deal those cretins would have offered. Unlike the pathetic Alliance, I do not compromise with barbarians," she declared.

Kaylah felt like pointing out that they would have heard of a public execution, but did not. "It is most likely scenario, yes," she admitted. She herself was uncertain. "The question stands. How far do we want to take this campaign? Don't get me wrong: it is necessary to exact retribution for the Dominion's treachery, but we need a clear aim. Otherwise we will be caught in a quagmire with no clear way out. We only recently assumed stewardship for the elves."

"I am aware," Siobhan spoke coldly, "and I haven't the faintest intention of teaching the Tephriki how to govern themselves. I want those who were responsible for the cowardly attack to be brought to me in fetters - or as corpses. I want the Dominion to be crushed and I want reparations."

Kaylah savoured the stimcaf while gathering her thoughts. "Reparations may be difficult...since the natives have spent the last couple centuries slaughtering each other. Does Tephrike have anything of value?"

"According to our scans, there may be valuable ores worth exploiting. We can set up some outposts to extract them. Couple advisors and troops. Nothing major. We've got our hands full uplifting the elves. No sense civilising a complete hellhole full of lunatics."

"Agreed. If we want to carry this war beyond Purity, we will either need more boots on the ground or to empower this Republican Guard. We will have to be careful in our dealings with them. Their revulsion for Force-Users seem to be universal."

"Doubtless they'll reopen the Dominion's concentration camps to lock up their political enemies and Force-Users in need of 'curing'," Siobhan remarked and cynically and probably realistically. The Lady gave an indifferent shrug. "But that's not my concern. We haven't come as liberators. We'll see how well they pull their weight. If need be, I'll deploy more troops. It will take time for our regulars to be mobilised. We'll keep keep the door open for Dominion players who are sane enough to come forward and supplicate themselves. I have no intention of doing the Guard's work for it. So if there's Jedi sane enough to bend the knee...," she trailed off meaningfully.

"It's best not to put you eggs in one basket. We may consider dropping leaflets indicating our willingness to accept defectors. And we should tailor our policy towards POWs accordingly. The low-ranking ones, at any rate. I can't imagine that every grunt is a suicidal fanatic," she paused.

"They promised us friendship once, then stabbed us in the back. Winning hearts and minds cannot take precedence over the safety of our troops. We must vigilant against further betrayals. There's no point in giving supposed defectors guns without a certainty that they won't turn them on us as soon as we turn our backs. This isn't a mission of mercy," Siobhan said caustically. "But...we could make use of liberated concentration camp inmates."

"I would not give deserters weapons. Just treat them rigorously, but decently. It would counter the lies these Jedi are spreading about us," Kaylah felt like pointing out that the Xioquo had been just as indoctrinated as the Dominion, but kept her peace. It had not been personal for Siobhan then. But it was personal for her now. "Regardless, those who suffered under the Dominion would be a useful resource. Doubtless many would want justice," she finished her tea. "Ever since word of the betrayal reached HQ, all sorts of wild rumours have been circulating. Speculation is running rampant. I believe a Firetruth broadcast about events on Tephrike would be helpful at this juncture."

Siobhan looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded curtly. "Send for Maerys..."

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]

Elpsis had not liked hospitals. As much as Roxane regarded her prior self with disgust, she could not help dislike them, too. This one was overflowing with patients. The rooms were cramped, and there were not enough doctors, nurses, medical droids, antibiotics or other medical supplies. For many patients, Roxane realised, this was a place to die, not heal. The groans and moans of the injured resounded through the chamber. The stink of death lingered in the air. The new arrivals were quickly put to work.

"Repentant come here," a stern looking Rodian matron ordered her. One imagined that she would not have let Han shoot first. "Now rather than later, girl," the Jedi healer ordered in a commanding voice when Roxane seemed frozen. The girl willed herself to move. To confront the horrors the war against the Light had unleashed. Firemane's war. Elpsis' war.

"Firemane's bombardment levelled the Jedi Temple. Many of the victims have ended up here. It is not safe in the capital," the Jedi continued, touching the boy's bruised forehead with her hand when he whimpered. "Calm, you are safe from the Sith." The Youngling was in poor shape. His leg was broken, he had scraps and contusions all over his body. Moreover, his injured leg was badly burnt and his ribs were bruised. The Rodian looked over his injuries. The boy winced in pain when she touched his chest.

Firemane bombardment. The bombardment Elpsis' mothers had ordered. The boy was paying for their lust for power. It was Firemane's fault. It was her fault. She felt sickened. "Hand me that," the Rodian ordered distractedly, not bothering to look at her.

"I can't...see what you want," Roxane finally found the courage to speak. She spoke haltingly, carefully. Her throat was sore. It hurt to speak. "I'm blind." The Light had punished Elpsis for her figurative blindness to the darkness around her.

The Rodian sighed. "They send all sorts these days, don't they? Other side of the bed. There's a needle on a tray." Obediently Roxane walked over and picked up the needle, then walked over to the mangled body of the Youngling. Strictly speaking, she could not see his injuries in the conventional way. But through the Force she could perceive where it hurt. Moreover, she could feel it. After what she had been through, her mental walls were weak. It made her wince.

"Here." Without a word, the Rodian set about probing the boy with the needle and syringe. Then she examined his bad leg, comparing it to the uninjured one. She whispered gentle words Roxane did not understand into his ear. Then she addressed the Repentant anew: "We have many patients, precious little medical supplies and even less time. Do you have any knowledge of Force healing?" Mercifully, a combination of sedatives and mental suggestions were having an effect on the boy.

"I...used to be able to heal, but I...lost the gift. I was a S-Sith," Roxane admitted, sounding ashamed.

"Of course you were. You're a Repentant." The doctor did not sound unkind, just strict and stressed. "Any there any applicable skills you actually have? Other than fetching objects."

"I know first aid....I can dress and stitch wounds. And I'm an empath. I can make it hurt less."

"Good, that's something at least. His leg is beyond repair. If it stays, the wound will fester and kill him. I will have to amputate it below the knee. Can you help calm him?"

"Yes...yes, I can," Roxane said quietly, realising how selfish she had been. She had been wallowing in her own misery and guilt, while someone was suffering before her eyes. So she moved forward to help as best as she could. She felt how agitated the boy was. His fear hit her like a wave. But she had to be strong.

"It doesn't have to go. I don't want to be cripple. I can walk again - and fight, " the boy protested feebly. His words and expression his exhaustion. "Please."

"I'm sorry...but you have to trust. You have to be brave. Everything will be...ok," Roxane said softly. This was Elpsis' fault. Her fault. The pain in her throat intensified, but she could not let it stop her. "Rest and feel no more today. Go to a place with no pain," she whispered quietly, passing a hand over his brow. Her touch was soft. She gently reached out into the child's mind. As she did so, she sung a lullaby.

"Hush, hush, my little child.
Now close your sleepy eyes,
I'll keep you warm and safe from every harm.
I'll watch you through the night."

She did not know its source. Presumably Elpsis had heard it. Either way, the boy seemed to calm before slipping into a trance-like state. "He's in a deep sleep. Will have to coax him from it gently...but he won't wake up in the middle of s-surgery," Roxane said, realising her palms were sweating.

"He has a chance to live. Many here don't," the Rodian stated matter-of-factly, sounding a bit tired. Roxane was soon put to work assisting her. Intense, nerve-wracking hours at the place of death and healing followed.

xxx

Hospitals were often stereotyped as being sterile. Field hospitals seldom lived up to that. Especially those erected in haste close to the frontlines. The one Mezha found herself in was no different. The ward was filled with the groans and moans of the wounded. There were few medical droids. Many medical supplies had to be rationed. Firemane deliveries had helped, but the Republican Guard still had to be careful. The rest of the Galaxy took bacta for granted, but Tephrike did not have the conditions for it to grow.

Grown men and women cried for their mothers or for whatever gods they might pray to. The stench of blood, flesh and desperation was thick in the air. Some would only leave the field hospital as cripples. Others in bodybags. Mezha was in a better position. The bleeding had been stopped; her wound had been dressed and cleaned. The painkillers were starting to wear off. She could hear noise akin to thunder coming from outside. It might even be thunder. Or perhaps she was wearing Firemane shelling the Dominion positions. There was no time for rest. No reprieve. Not while her people were still fighting for their lives.

"I see you're not dead yet. Not for lack of trying though," Synthia spoke as she stepped into the tent. "That was stupid of you. Charging that tank," the Twi'lek chided her. Her lekku were thick with annoyance.

"I didn't charge," Mezha retorted flatly. "And it was necessary." She stretched slightly, wincing. "Glad you're in one piece."

"Yeah, glad you are, too."

There was a moment of quiet. "What's the stitch?"

"We're dug in, but getting hammered. Our 'friends' have been dumpin' tons of ordinance on the Jedi. There's gas clouds, huge craters and scores of charred bodies. Still they fight on, like we knew they would. Several squads got ambushed got taken out by booby traps or ambushed by cloaked Dommiees. Storm's keeping the Firemanes from using their gunships."

"It'll mess with the Dommies as well," Mezha reflected thoughtfully. "Not that it helps us at the moment. We gotta get things movin' again. Can't get pinned down here. Not like last time."

"Thought you weren't enthusted about the op."

"I wasn't. Still aren't. Don't trust the outsiders not to leave us in a lurch. I've yet to see them do much. But what else can we do? If we throw the towel and run now, that'll be the second time in less than ten years that we tried to take Purity and failed. We chose to gamble. So if the Guard means anything, we gotta make a stand. Any orders from command?"

Synthia's lekku flexed slightly. "The General's not happy. Seems Colonel Karakostas agrees with you though. There are some fortifications that need cracking. They're blocking our path forward. And our scouts have reported some unusual troop movements. You up for it?"

Mezha stood. A bit shakily, but nonetheless. She tried to suppress a grimace. "Gather the boys. I'll talke with them." Bit by bit, she slipped on her camo outfit and equipped herself.

Her leg gave her grief. Retrieving a syringe from her suit, she popped it and jabbed the needle into her thigh. At first the sensation was torturous. She had to bite down on cloth. Then she felt a surge of energy, invigorating her. There was no time to rest. Not when the fighting was still ongoing and her fellow members of the Guard were still out there in the trenches. Not when so many her comrades had lost their lives. She took the time to check her kit and clean her rifle. When she was done she pocketed the holopic of her little one. Then she was out of the tent. Behind her, a surgeon was amputating a Quarren soldier's leg.

Viper Company gathered in a trench. The deep, foreboding roar of artillery fire could be heard in the distance. It rivalled the thunder. Large puddles had formed on the ground, intermixing with the blood of the fallen. Speaking of the dead, they tended to be dumped in mass graves. Only a few Dominion prisoners had been taken. Many of the few who'd laid down their arms had been shot out of hand. Mezha's eyes travelled across the members of her command that had survived the fight. She felt a stab of guilt when she counted the missing faces. The soldiers had fought nonstop, bled and screamed. The unit was mixed-gender and had more than a few active couples. Not all of the survivors' loved ones would come back - except in a bodybag. Focus on the mission, she chided herself. Honour the dead. Make their deaths count.


Still the soldiers rose or nodded respectfully. "Boys, girls," she began, "I'm not one for speeches and I'm not about to tell you what you already know. The Dominion hammered us and you held. In my book, you're heroes. But the fight's not over." She frowned.

"We've bled, we've lost friends. More of us will join them before the day's over. We can fall back into the shadows and live for sure...and maybe lose our one chance to take this damn rock. Or we can take a risk and make pay the Dominion pay. I don't care about the outsiders and whatever promises they've made us. I care about making our parents' and friends' deaths matter. Andorian Guard's moving forward to make sure the ground we held won't go to waste. We gotta push forward before more of our comrades die."

"I know you're tired and hurt, even you won't admit it. That's why I'm not making this an order. However, I'm looking for a couple volunteers to help me blow some Dom fortifications sky high. If no one feels up to it..." She trailed off as hands rose up. With each second, more hands shot up. A tightness filled Mezha's chest as she watched battle-weary soldiers raise their hands to join.

"Thank you," she said. "Sergeant Synthia, form a team to run recon and another for direct action. Salvage explosives from the Dom suicide bombers' vests." The Twi'lek nodded curtly and Mezha gave them all a smile. "I appreciate." For a moment, her voice was choked with emotion. "Let's give 'em hell, boys." There were nods, and a few hoots. The Vipers' battle cry was taken up by the collection of tired soldiers. "Do-ro'ik vong pratte."

A few minutes later Mezha was alone. She took a long, deep breath. The quiet moment did not last long. She heard footsteps that sounded like those of a giant. "Nice speech," Freya said sardonically in her gruff voice. "I don't bother with 'em. Just tell the boys where to point their guns at and who to kill."

"We have a cause we fight for. It's been a lifetime for many of us. And we'll be continue fighting for it long after your people have left," Mezha replied evenly, though firmly. The Firemanes talked a big game, but they could leave on their ship and forget about Tephrike. The Republican Guard did not have this option. This blood-soaked world was their home and they would fight to set it right. "You heard anything from your superiors?" The human was clearly tough and had a mind of her own. The Vong rebel wondered how she could stand taking orders from Force-Users. From people who would look on her for not being born with their 'gift'.

The blonde shrugged her heavily armoured shoulders. "Nadda," she snorted. "Maybe they all got Wall of Lighted or something. We gonna sit on our arses or hit the self-righteous dicks in robes?"

"I could use some heavy infantry to help raise hell..."

"Let's move."


xxx

Natalie shrugged. "I hid in a mass grave, blew up a wall and sliced some data. I'd hope Elpsis made my skills seem a bit more impressive than that." Almost as soon as the words had left her lips, her lighthearted attitude. The Essionian suppressed a sigh.

"I'll go work on the data," she said in a serious tone. She spared Kira a glance when the latter referred to her drunken adventures. "I remember. Especially the smell. Don't wander off with your shoulder sticking out like that," she said sternly, though not unkindly. She pointedly ignored Nyssa. A medical droid was looking at the Pureblood's chest wound. The high-calibre slug had failed to penetrate her Phrik armour, but left some nasty bruising. The red-skinned woman grunted something in Sithese when the pain flared up.

 

[Karrigan'Xalda]

Thunder boomed. It was pouring. Rain fell in droves. Water intermixed with blood and gore. The ground beneath their boots had turned muddy. Visibility was a joke. Lightning slashed from the sky and thunder roared. So did heavy machine guns.

"This is Eagle Platoon. We're pinned down, taking heavy fire from a bunker. Suddenly appeared out of nowhere. There's some kinda spell...aargh." That had been the message from the Republican Guard unit. There was no reprieve, no respite. Just them, the enemy and an eternity of bloodshed on a godsforsaken, polluted rock somewhere on the arse-end of the Galaxy. War was not about who was right, it was about who was left.

Heavy weapons fire shot towards the Vipers and Reapers. Scanners and the naked eye failed at identifying the nest. Freya could have sworn she had seen something, but then it vanished in the blink of an eye. All she had to trace was the weapons fire and the thunderous noise caused by it. Eagle Squad was pinned down behind some rocks and wreckage. Heavy slug rounds and grenades rained down upon them.

"We must move. They're being mauled," Synthia urged as the unit approached the kill zone. The weapons fire picked up. Every fortified gun in the bunker seemed to be taking shots at the intruders. Mezha, to her credit, kept the unit moving forward. Determined and methodically, she had them hasten from one cover to the next, crouch or hit the dirt when need be.

"Their mojo doesn't work on you, right?" Freya had to shout to make herself heard over the explosion of sound, of machine guns barking, soldiers cursing and crying in pain when their bodies were ripped apart by bullets. She got what looked like a nod from Mezha's Twi'lek buddy.

The blonde soldier tapped the Vong on the shoulder and passed her an explosive charge. Salvaged from a Dominion suicide bomber who had gotten his wish of achieving oneness with the Force or whatever nonsense they were fed. "Flank 'em, find an entrance. I'll back up your buddies and go up front. We deliver a package."

Mezha accepted the charge. "Krax, go with them. Be their eyes," she ordered one of her comrades. He was a Nautolan. Freya got a curt nod. "See you on the other side. Be advised, the Jedi in there may be able to do more than conceal things."

"Let' em," Freya retorted caustically. "Go. Björn, with me," she ordered the tall, burly Valkyri. Like her, he was encased in a suit of Power Armour. His homeworld was under the thumb of Jedi as well. Unlike the Tephriki ones, they were not oppressive tyrants who treated their people like dirt. Instead, they were of the cowardly peacenik variety. The kind that would rather let Sith go on a rampage and let innocents die than take action and risk tarnishing their perfect halo. Mezha passed on her orders, communicating with her posse in what Freya assumed was the Vong language and through use of hand signals. The Vipers vanished into the embrace of their cloaks.


Freya moved out. It was, to all intents and purposes, impossible to be even remotely sneaky while encased in the Ironside suit. So she did not try. She was muscle, plain and simple. Her jets were good for short bursts but little more. With single-minded, dogged determination she made her way towards the beleaguered Republican Guard troopers. Weapons fire came their way. Slug rounds bounced off her armour or shattered upon contact. Others, however, hammered her. A rib cried out in anger, but she was pumped full of stimulants. A stream of expletives escaped her mouth. She moved past pieces of debris and corpses that had been riddled with bullets or blown apart by explosions.Moving from improvised cover to improvised cover, she depressed the trigger of her boltgun.


Ammunition was no longer a commonly available commodity. The smoke round produced a thick cloud. The beleaguered Republican Guard soldiers loosed a fusillade of slugthrower fire towards the general direction of the enemy nest. A hail of return fire shredded the armour of a female Quarren trooper, and most of the torso behind it. Her dead body fell back amongst the rest of her unit, joining the pile of bodies.


"Friendlies. I'm with Firemane!" Freya yelled, explosive rounds shooting out of her bolter. Björn was at her side, the bolter in his grasp fired short bursts, joining the macabre orchestra. Krax, being Force Dead, could see the nest up ahead of them. He helped direct her shots. They kept up a barrage of fire towards the bunker. It would, at least, help suppress them. The Reapers' power armour made them good at taking some of the heat off the Rebels. A smoke trail appeared in front of them, and grew larger with every passing moment. "Rocket!" Krax yelled just as the projectile slammed into the debris that gave them cover.


The Sergeant crashed into a large rock and her ears rang. Dust coated her armour. Something sharp and hot had lodged itself into her armpit. "What's your status?" Damn it, Mezha, get a move on, she thought.

"Half of the unit's gone. Our status is that we're dead if we don't move," a Republican Guard Corporal declared as hypervelocity slugs and explosive projectiles rained down upon them. Detonations shook their bones, explosions and machine gun fire pounded their ears.

"The hell we are," Freya cursed. "Vipers are flanking 'em. We wait for the signal and frak these... " then all coherent thought left her mind and her words died on her lips. For a brief moment, the veil was lifted and the bunker appeared before her eyes.

Then there pain. The first step of the attack consisted of torturously bright light, noise so loud that she felt like her eadrums might burst and sensation. The pain she felt inside her body not only flared, but intensified. Like wild fire spreading across her body. The bolter fell out of her grasp.

Björn and other soldiers suffered from the same psychic attack. Krax seemed unaffected and grabbed a grenade launcher from one of the fallen soldiers to fire. Freya was deaf to the dull thoomp of his grenade launcher. Broken in by the psychic onslaught, a Private began to shuffle backwards, inadvertently moving into harm's way. Krax called out to him, but then a bullet tore through the soldier's faceplate, smearing it with blood.


But disorientation was only the start of the psychic attack. Mental talons had sunk deep into her mind. Freya felt a pull. A pull to abandon her post. A siren voice compelled her to go. This whole conflict was not her problem. Why should she die because some bigwigs' brat had been captured? Her armour felt heavy on her shoulders, like a crushing weight. She was drowning, and with nay a life boat in sight. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, moving away from the battle she had no part in. Krax grabbed her by the shoulder to pull her into cover, but she roughly removed his arm and pushed him away, back towards the debris. Her body acted before her mind did.


A cry of pain was heard as the soldier died close to her. His brain matter was splattered across the ground. Some of hit her armour. Anger surged through her. It burnt as hot as a blazing firestorm. She was filled with a baleful flame. He had died because of her weakness. No one messed with her mind. No one. "Get your arses moving if you wanna live," she yelled. "If you truly believe you're gonna die, then go shoot yourselves. Or move. Björn, come on." Anger dripped from her tongue with every word. She was incandescent. Grabbing Björn, she shook him. His eyes were blank. "Suppressive fire! Now!"


Shaking more than a little, the soldier obeyed. His eyes were icy. His bolter barked. Freya jumped out of cover, moving as fast as she could. The illusion was weaker now. She moved through smoke and across muddy, blood-stained ground, as bullets shot towards her. Her movements were of a woman driven by fury. The illusion was weaker now and she flung a grenade towards what she seemed was a turret. The mental talons kept digging into her mind, making her feel like she was burning up inside. Pain flared up in her leg. Then there was suddenly a loud explosion. It came from within the bunker. The spell was broken. She could see Mezha up ahead, fighting her way inside. Her allies came from their hide out, yelling, shooting and eager to kill.


xxx

"Bless us as we enter the light Karishzar, may your will strengthen our minds and guide our hands.
Let us, your humble daughters, honour you with victory. Oh great Karishzar, we beseech thee for victory."

The militia charged. Dedicated beyond reason to their cause. Fanatically devoted to the Dominion, the Light and the Grandmaster. Determined to achieve oneness with the Force. An image flashed before Xalda's eyes. Of Xioquo slave-soldiers charging to their doom, being used to clear mine fields and being mowed down by automatic weapons fire, even as priestesses urged them on to fight in the name of Myrou and sacrifice themselves for her. They died because there was no other choice. She had been one of them. She saw priestesses ripping out the hearts of captives over blood-soaked altars, as their life force was torn from their bodies and devoured by the false goddess.

The storm crackled again, sending spiderwebs of lightning overlapping through the clouds. Sweat rained down from her forehead while rain dripped down her helmet. Her hands trembled. There was no difference between the cruel mistresses who had tormented her and the Dominion. They were both rotten and evil. The 'wise mistresses' had fed her lies about the goddess Myrou to justify keeping her in chains. The Dominion fed its people lies about the so-called Light to keep them enslaved. They both deserved to be eradicated. Xalda acted on automatism. It was time for the Yedi to end.

Saito had taken cover in a shell crater. Her wounds had been doctored as far as possible. Using the ground as rest, she raised her slugthrower rifle and sniped bombers. A group of death charging militia was was momentarily frozen in place by her Stasis, making them easier targets. The Lieutenant from earlier was dead. A Force-guided sniper's bullet had ripped through his throat. Poor kid. She'd have to grab his dog tags. The Silencers pooled their efforts with her. They could not manipulate the earth, but contain, slow down and snipe. Militia died. Some were pierced by Laira's spike as they rose from the ground or torn apart when Xalda caused their bombs to explode on them. The bushes were showered with blood and innards. Some militia, wounded by nearby detonations, pressed on nonetheless, even if they had to crawl. Salvoes of gunfire came their way. A few tried to run. Then for a moment there was silence, save for the groans of the wounded and the dying.

And yet the Dominion lines on the hill held. Machine gun salvoes and accurate, Force-guided sniper fire shot towards any Firemane soldier who did not keep his head down or was brazen enough leave cover to try and get up the hill. Indeed, some bombers had only played dead upon being hit by a bullet or pierced by a spike. Having hidden beneath the corpses of their comrades, they detonated their payloads the moment impetuous enemy soldiers seemed to come close. Weapons fire was joined by the dull thoomps of firing grenade launchers. The Firemane soldiers were dug into cover, but the it gave them another reason to pause in the face of incoming explosives.

"Everyone stay down. Get the wounded to the rear," Saito bellowed.

"We need to get up that damn hill," a Firemane soldier from the crash site declared angrily.

"They have the high ground and snipers. You charge out in the open without prep, you'll die before you even get close. Dig in, set up perimeter security, and contact command. If no one answers the calls, send a damn messenger. Tell them we're beneath the hill and need some support. Aeromancers, especially. Time for the damn storm to be useful for us. And ammo."

The Cataphracts sprayed the enemy lines up on the hill with heavy bolter fire. It kept the Dominion from moving towards them. But Firemane could also not charge up. The thunderstorm overhead ravaged louder. Lightning struck and thunder fell. Saito looked around. It was a rag-tag group of regular Firemane infantry, Tygaran specialists and the Resistance squad. Armies looked organised on the neat maps of generals in their tidy offices, but once the bullet started flying, it showed that war was chaos.

The Panathan Sergeant assessed their options. They could not charge straight up the hilltop guns blazing, but nor could they retreat. She could imagine high command breathing down Colonel Varkathras' neck. There was no way forward but one that ended with them overcoming the enemy. But she had a duty to ensure as many of her people came back alive as possible. If they took the long way around the hill, they might be able to flank the Dominion. Her Silencers' stealthy talents would be an asset, though she figured that if their enemies had a halfway functioning brain, they'd have the foresight to lay traps and post scouts. It would also take time, allowing the enemy to reinforce their positions. A new idea popped into her mind. "Anyone here who can create mist? And spot mines?"

"This one can, ma'am," Xalda spoke up, finally pulled out of her daze. Guessing what the Sergeant intended for her to do with it, she added, "This one can use it to conceal. And call upon the earth to crush enemy positions." An image of violence flashed before her eyes. She had punished the 'wise mistresses' by doing unto them as they had done unto her. She yearned to do the same to the Jedi.

 

[Tempest]

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] [member="Laira Darkhold"]

The Scarlet Destiny and the other ships of the fleet were in a strange state of anxiety. Since the removal of the strange Force-nukes days before they had not been directly threatened. However, they could look down and see the strange storm below, and the keenest eyed might even see distant flashes of explosions or lightning.

With this in mind Natalie would find herself with a frankly overwhelming staff of technicians wanting to help you. All these techs wanted to do something to help, most because that would help their comrades below, but many because being seen to achieve good work would certainly do their reviews good.

The data from the internment camp had been compiled and prepared with special interest paid to the encrypted files. The sheer age of these formats was both a plus and minus. Interfacing this ancient and divergent tech was at first difficult, but once done it did not take long for the heavy cryptographic calculators to succeed in breaking the encryption. The problem was that when they did unlock it the shorthand and strange references were a language unto themselves.

Mara Technician, though not from that branch, was able to give some insight. Thus, one of the Firemane techs was able to locate some vital information and brought their datapad over to Natalie.
“Miss, I think I’ve got something here, maybe you can see if you can understand it better than I?”

The file was a fairly mundane spreadsheet which had been specially encrypted. Only some of the data within was listed, but what was mentioned referred to an ‘Offworld Sith’. It briefly mentioned a description; red hair, apparently human, blind eyes. The rest of the file was obscured. Natalie though likely had some tricks to pierce the veil of secrecy and open up the transfer location.

It did not confirm if she was still alive of course…but it was the clearest information they had yet.

XXX

Tempest paced the deck of the hanger. She was about ready, just waiting for a last consignment of some secret weapons to be loaded aboard her transports.
She was interrupted by footsteps. She turned to see a Qadiri in piloting uniform approaching. Tempest paused, thought, then recalled.
“Commander Khalal?” she asked.
“Indeed, Major Tempest. Jazan Jai Khalal, pleased to meet you.” The Qadiri spoke good Basic, though with a cute accent.
Tempest was a little too full of nervous energy to admire the figure of the other woman. Instead she shook her hand.
“Returning from a run?”
“No, about to go on one. Mirage Squadron is your escort down to your destination. We’ve flown 8 combat missions so far to the Purity battle. The Lady Mistress has commanded us instead to be allocated to you. Unfortunately there will only be seven of us. Lieutenant Jai Kazemal’s ship got hit by a flak blast. She’s fine, but until her ship’s repaired she’s grounded.”
“Understood. It’s been a hard fight…I just wish I could play a bigger part.”
“I understand we are chasing for the Fire Princess Elpsis. That is important. It may help end the war.”
“I hope we find something.”
Natalie herself was approaching with a datapad.
“Looks like we have something at last. See you in the sky, Jazan. May the Force serve you well.”
“May the darkness never take you, Tempest. Keep in contact.”

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Tempest"], [member="Laira Darkhold"]

Her time at the hospital was not spent with idle dallying. No sooner had she seen to the poor Youngling, than she was given other tasks. Some patients she helped calm with the Force. With others she brought them food and changed their bandages. She sowed up soldiers' legs and sides and arms and she found that no matter how hard she scrubbed her hands, the blood still congealed under her fingernails. It was draining, and yet she felt a part of something. She could, in a small way at least, fix some of the damage Elpsis and the Sith had wrought. Help those who had suffered from their actions find new strength. Or ease their passage into the Netherworld, where they could achieve oneness with the Force and become luminous beings.

Balancing a tray of food and water, she crossed the threshold into a room after giving the door a knock. The chamber was small but less cramped. She passed some patients who were being seen to by nurses or other Repentant. With unerring precision, she approached one bed out of the multitude. However, the moment her milky-white eyes fell upon the patient, she nearly did a doubletake.

A young woman lay in bed. Her injuries were nasty, for she had suffered severe burns. Her body was covered in bandages. She could feel her pain. However, that was not what shocked her. Instead, it was the young Jedi's aura. It was like staring into the aura of Diona. A clone. "Uh, hello, I'm Roxane," she introduced herself awkwardly, clearing her throat.

The clone was a bit groggy. It took a moment or two for her to register Roxane's presence. "Can you speak up a bit? Got trouble hearing you," she said, coughing a bit. Roxane felt bad for her. Yet somehow the woman felt familiar, beyond her likeness with Diona.

"Um, sorry. Sore throat," Roxane tried to raise her voice, though it hurt. "I, um, brought you some food and drink stuff. Gotta get your strength up. After that, I'm supposed to take a look at your bandages, but no rush."

"Relax, kid. My name's Diana," the Jedi warrior said gently, still sounding tired. "Thanks for the food. Just put the tray over there. Could use some water. You're a new nurse? Haven't seen you around."

The gentle tone put Roxane at ease, but then the question made her tense. "No, I'm, uh, a Repentant." Approaching the bed, she put the tray on the table. Then she picked up the glass of water and held it towards the Jedi. Then it hit her.

There was a flash before her eyes. She heard screams, shouts and gunfire, then saw a wave of scalding heat shoot from her hands towards brave Jedi warriors and militia. She perceived the aura of a woman among them, yelling at her men to get back as she drew upon her power to shield them from the inferno, at the cost of her own body. It was as if she was right there, watching her suffer. Elpsis had done this to her. She had done this to her.

Her hand trembled and the glass fell out of her grasp. Before she could react it had hit the floor and shattered into pieces. Water spilled out. "I'm sorry, I'm so s-sorry," Roxane stuttered. "I'll clean it up. I'll fix this..." Anxiety and shame washed over her.

"It's fine, girl, it's just a glass...," Diana said in good humour. But then her aura shifted. Where there had been understanding, now there was disgust, anger and fear. "Wait...I know you! You're her! The Sith who did this to me!" she yelled. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what she...I did to you. I'm not a Sith anymore. The Inquisition taught me to embrace the Light. I'm sorry..."

"Sorry?" Diana interrupted her angrily. "You burnt me, you killed my friends. Your kind only destroys and enslaves. You think putting on a robe and saying how bad you feel makes you a Jedi? You disgrace good men and women by wearing that robe."

Roxane hung her head. "What I did...cannot be forgiven. All I can say is...I'm sorry. I'll do whatever I can to help those who suffered because of me and the Sith. I'm not her anymore. I despise who I was."

"You know what you are? A fraud. I can look into your mind. You're saying this because you were conditioned to."

"I...I..." The other patients were getting agitated by the noise. Roxane's cheeks burnt with shame.

"What's going on here?" it was the same voice as Diana, but not her. Diona crossed the threshold. "There's been a mistake. Roxane, leave. Brother Adrian will take over for you here. The Chief Healer has other instructions for you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"Roxane, just leave."

It felt to her like she was running away like a coward. She picked up what pieces of glass she could. She cut herself on one of them, but did not even care to notice the blood dripping down and staining her robe. Diana was right. She was a fraud. A pretender sullying an ancient order and the deeds of good people. She heard their voices behind her.

"I'm sorry, sister. I should have visited sooner."

"Is that what kept you busy? How can you stand to be in the same room as that thing?"

"I was under orders. It's...complicated."

"How? Our brothers and sisters are fighting, bleeding and dying outside. Because of Sith monsters like that. And we let her roam freely and soil their sacrifices?"

"Listen, she's not a Sith." Roxane wiped some tears from her face and dumped the shards into a rubbish bin. As she walked away, shoulders hung, she heard something else. "She never was." The voice was low, but Diona's. It could not be. She had misheard. She must have. It was her own foolish, stubborn pride making her imagine hearing things, trying to make her stray from the path of truth and justice.


xxx

Meanwhile, the Scarlet was abuzz with activity. Even the room Natalie had been assigned to work in was not spared. An enormous staff of technicians bustled about like drones in an enormous hive. All these techs were all too eager to help. To do their part to help their comrades below and save the much-beloved Fire Princess. Or, more realistically, to impress the Queen Bees.

Natalie was the type of person who liked the quiet. She was also not used to the hustle and bustle of organisations as large as Firemane. A clandestine terrorist cell was lucky when it had one good cryptographer. And the more people knew something sensitive, the more operational security was compromised.

She dismissed a bunch of them. The all-too-eager, the moderately patronising, those whose uniforms were too spotless because it showed their priorities were clearly elsewhere. Then they set to work. Among the hive of Firemane technicians, one stuck out like a sore thumb. Mara Technician was her name. She looked awkward and nervous in her Firemane uniform. Bit mousy for Natalie's tastes, but she was of use.

Finally, one Firemane tech brought her a piece of data. Natalie had lost track of the time. She subsisted on stimcaf. “Miss, I think I’ve got something here, maybe you can see if you can understand it better than I?”

Wordlessly, she took the data. "I'll have a look." She'd give praise if it proved fruitful. Her eyes travelled over the spreadsheet. There were references to an 'Offworld Sith'; human, scarlet hair, blind. She dared not to hope. First she put a decrypter to good use, parsing the 128 bit encryption.

"This crap is way past its expiration date," she muttered to herself. First she tried brute force, but then pursued a subtler approach by mixing in various codes and possible combinations. Natalie was as Force-Sensitive as a plank, but this was what Elpsis called her brand of wizadry. It dawned on her that there was a pattern in the encryption. It featured certain repeating patterns from other codes. Once she figured that out, cracking it was easy.

Applying her data tools, she loaded the data into a more readable format. Sitting in a chair, she sipped her stimcaf. The fingers of her free hand travelled down the screen. Her fingers stopped when she came across a line saying the 'Offworld Sith' had been taken to a place designated SS. "Cross reference this with all code names of Inquisition camps. Hit up the boys in Signals if you must. Then check for resupply and labour detail directions."

Some time later, she had a name and a location. She leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her blonde hair. The information, she was quick to remind herself, did not confirm that Elpsis was alive. But it was the best she could offer. "Good work, Mr...Quinn," she spoke, remembering the name of the tech who had brought her the original info.

"Glad to be of service, ma'am," the technician said.

"I'll make sure your superiors know," her eyes fell upon Mara. "You've been a big help, too."

"You will her back, right?" Mara asked hopefully. Her tone was pleading. "Please...she was kind to me. You have to help her."

"We'll do the best we can." She could not make promises she could not keep.

"If...if she's still alive...she may not be herself," Mara shifted uncomfortably. "The Inquisition can do...horrible things to a person's mind. I used to think it was just and only happened to sinners...but the Grand Inquisitor is an evil man."

Natalie understoos what she meant. She could see it in her eyes. "If she's alive, we won't let anyone abuse her as a drone, no matter what it takes. And avenge her if she isn't." That was a promise she felt she could keep.


xxx

Thunder boomed, high-velocity slug rounds tore through the air, men screamed, shouted and died. Just another day on Tephrike. One skirmish among many on the blood-soaked world. More bodies for the killing fields that stretched across the planet. It was all for The Cause. Something greater than the individual lives of any of them. Mezha was sure of this. The Republican Guard was the only reliable force left on Tephrike. The only one that stood for the common people. The ninety-nine point nine percent that paid the price when Force-Users battled one another for supremacy. They were the salt of the earth. It was for them she fought.

Arise ye pris'ners of starvation
Arise ye wretched of the earth
For justice thunders condemnation
A better world's in birth!

The certainty of who and what she was fighting for gave her strength. The Vipers moved like ghosts, making little noise upon the blood-soaked, mud-covered ground. The roar of thunder masked their approach, as did the rain, the cloaks and the violence that raged all around them. She guided her soldiers with single-minded precision, moving from cover to cover, never lingering in one place.

Explosions and gunfire all around her made the Yuuzhan Vong wince, but she pressed on. "Freya, come in," she spoke quietly into the communicator. The Ogglith had an attachment that enabled it to reach the devices Firemane used. "Do you copy?" There was still no response. She felt a stab of anxiety. The rain pouring down from the sky helped obfuscate their approach, but it also made a pain to figure out what was going on where Firemane and Eagle Platoon were making their stand. For all she knew, they might be dead.

She swallowed the thought. Her eyes met Synthia's and she made a gesture with her fingers. The signal was passed on. They were going in, and so they moved. Intense weapons fire blazing through the air forced her to hit the dirt. The earth shook from the impact of a grenade. She crawled through mud, hiding beneath bodies or debris where needed.

Then she broke into a sprint, moving rapidly towards the bunker from her the flank. Her comrades were with her. Two remained behind some debris to provide cover where needed. She was getting closer and closer. Her heart thumped inside her chest. The bunker was in sight. Up close, it looked a lot larger. Certainly more than a simple pillbox would have warranted. Synthia retrieved a smoke grenade, activated it and hurled it as close towards the bunker's firing port as possible.

Dashing through the cloud of white smoke, camo outfit soaked by the downpour, Mezha came to a halt once she was at the side of the bunker. There were shouts coming from the inside. Then she heard footsteps. Soldiers were moving out. She made a quick gesture with her fingers, then retrieved the ball of explosive death.

Her comrades followed suit. The explosives had belonged to Dominion militia who had ambushed the Republican Guard's line intent on blowing themselves up. They had been taken down before they could follow through. It was fitting to return the package. Priming the explosives, she mentally counted two seconds, then the explosives were flung into the bunker.

Immediately gunfire came their way. A bullet grazed her by the cheek. She winced from the pain. Mezha rolled away from the bunker, facing the rear. Raising her slugthrower, she fired at Dominion soldiers trying to get out. There was a loud crack, the rumble. For a brief moment, she perceived something akin to a shimmering barrier forming inside the bunker. There was a gust of smoke, then cries of pain. "Go, go!" Mezha yelled as she rushed into the billowing, acric white smoke, slugthrower held aggressively.

The bunker was a mess. Part of the wall and ceiling were ruined. The Jedi was in a bad way, slumped against the wall and bleeding. Mezha figured he had tried to contain the blast. The cracking sound of bullets ripped through the air. In close quarters she discarded, her rifle in favour of blade and pistol, She fired, beat, kicked and stabbed. "Grenade!" Synthia shouted, pushing her friend to the side and into the ground, whilst simultaneously firing her carbine to take out a Dominion soldier. Mezha landed hard on the ground, with the Twi'lek on top of her.

The blast resonated in her ears, abusing them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a soldier approach. The bayonet of his rifle was thrust downward towards them. She pushed Synthia away, wincing in pain as the bayonet stabbed into her shoulder. With one hand she grabbed the rifle, while the other sprouted claws and she cut across the man's throat. Staggering to her feet, she grabbed her pistol and shot him dead. Without pity or mercy, she and her comrades slew, cutting down any Dominion soldier they could see. From the front came Freya and the Eagle Platoon soldiers. Between the two of them, the defenders were cornered.

Freya fought like someone possessed by a fury, firing her shotgun or using it as a club to bash skulls. "Don't shoot!" the Jedi yelled, raising his hands. He looked young. So very young. "We surrender." Boom. The shot from Freya's plasma shotgun blew his head off. His brain matter was splattered across the floor as he slumped backward, never to move again. Quick pistol shots or blade slashes took out the remaining Dominion soldiers on the ground. Mezha thrust her blade into the heart of a bleeding soldier.

Then there was silence. Mezha breathed in deeply, nursing her shoulder wound. "Good work, team," she finally spoke. "Casualties?" she looked across the bunker, making a mental head count.

"We're good," Synthia said after a moment. "My back just needs a vacation."

"Eagle Platoon took losses," Freya spoke up. "That guy you sent with me, Krax...he didn't make it." She sounded almost...haunted. "Kept it together when that arsehole mind frakked us. I got his dog tags," she growled. There was anger there.

"Then he died well. My the Yun'o be good.," Mezha said quietly, accepting the profferred dog tags. So many deaths, so much bloodshed over the course of her life. It had to be worth it. She would make sure it was. "They had a big crew for a pillbox. Secure the bunker, search for anything out of the ordinary."

"You get that shoulder looked at," Synthia said in her best 'I am being sensible, so listen to me' tone. Mezha winced when she bent down to retrieve some ammunition from a dead Dominion soldier. The mutilated remains of the Jedi lay on the ground not far from here. She searched his body, finding a comm and some papers.

Looking through the documents, she found that they had been written in some sort of code. Or a language she did not know. One piece of paper fell out. Picking it up, she saw that it was the holopic of a little boy. Younger in years than the Jedi, but otherwise his spitting image. The dead Jedi was holding him. A younger brother from the same birthing pod? She tensed, breathing in. "Ma'am, you gotta see this," a fellow Vong's voice pulled her from her musings.

"What have you got, Nas?"

"Check this out. This floor...it's fake." Synthia, Freya and Mezha all joined him, as he carefully raised the floor. There was a ladder. It led very deep. "Careful, odds are there's tons of traps, motion sensors and all that."

"That explains why they warded the bunker with their mojo and put a Jedi here. Should get some ground penetrating radar to see how far it goes underground," Synthia said thoughtfully.

"Inform battalion command. Now," Mezha ordered. This was big. Speed was essential. "And bring up the rest of the Vipers. Firemane, we could use your boys here, too. And any technical help your people can provide."

"You'll get 'em," Freya grunted. Mezha met her gaze. There was a fire in her eyes. It matched hers. For now, they were of one mind.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The green skinned woman smiled coldly, “Works for me. She can pose as a grad-student working for me for university credit. I’ll take my leave and begin interrogating our guest.” The falleen was aware she was playing a relatively dangerous game, laying the cards out like that for a very rich, very powerful woman. It had worked at first, but could always backfire and destroy any chances she had of any future funding. “The faster I coerce information out of her the better for both of you.”

The lithe falleen stalked through the ship after taking her leave from the bridge, taking long strides with a purposeful gait as she returned to the guarded room. Tegaea’s Twi’lek would likely be joining them once the former prisoner had been moved. She waved her hands, shooing the guards out of her way as the door opened. Her smile broadened, and her features softened as the door opened, making her appear much friendlier. “Hello, you can gather your things Airla, you’ll be staying with me now.”

“They agreed?”

“With a condition, but you are a free woman and a Jedi will be coming to pick you up as soon as Firemane is finished with their operations on your homeworld.” The falleen said, watching intently for the twi’lek’s reaction.

Airla, for her part swallowed her excitement and tried to keep it from her face. Freedom wasn’t something she had ever tasted before, and she knew that as long as she remained on this vessel the Jedi wouldn’t really be free. “What condition?” Airla asked as she walked from the room.

“For security reasons, they require that you be kept without the use of the Force. Now, it is important to my friends, that you tell me everything you know about Fort Purity.”

~

Thunder boomed in the roiling sky. Laira helped Xalda create spikes by the hundreds in front of the Firemane lines to stall and disable the many suicide bombers that the Dominion unleashed. The redhead strained as hard as she was able with her earthshaping, but Xalda certainly pulled most of the weight in their combined efforts to create the punji stakes.

The storms of weapons fire from both sides sputtered across the gaps, slugs darting across the space towards the enemies. Laira’s friends from the Resistance sat back, lingering a little back where they could line up more accurate shots into the Dominion’s forces, making short controlled bursts aimed for officers and specialists to disrupt the enemy’s organization.

Over he comlink she heard Stalgis issuing short orders. “Press forward, push the advantage up the hill.”

The redhead dragged herself out of the mud, grey eyes blinking away the droplets of rain that hit her face. Push the advantage. That was what he had said, but the former-Death Trooper gave no instructions as to how. Already they had lost someone, and another of their number was bleeding out, unlikely he would survive the entire battle. Her mind churned, gripping her lightsaber and her pistol, searching her feelings for an inkling of what bath she needed to take in order to defeat the Dominion.

[member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]
[member="Tempest"]

 

[Tegaea Alcori]

[member="Laira Darkhold"] [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]

(A long awaited second part!)

It was still raining, pouring even. Leonina cordially hated rain, and indeed wasn’t a big fan of water in general. It was perhaps a trait shared with all feline species, but getting wet was something she did not appreciate. Fortunately she had a full combat suit on, but on the downside she had taken some dents and tears in the saboteur assault and she could feel the water dripping onto her fur. She could feel her fur curling, and it’d take hours to de-frizz.

She was jerked out of this reverie by the sound of an officer approaching.
“Ma’am. Message from the front, encrypted channel.”
“Colonel Varkathras here.” She listened. “Good thinking. I don’t have…”
She was interrupted by a transport landing right in front of her, perfectly unconcerned. Many such ships had barely made it, or not at all, but this one was landed as though it was a parade.
“Hold on, Sergeant.”
She headed over to see the hatches on the transport open already. Qadiri emerged, dressed in rather elaborate black and blue armour. Their leader bowed.
“Lady Commander, Bakana Jai Aramal. I am of the Celestial Dragons. We were dispatched from the sky-ship to use the storm.” She glanced around. “Is more wet than we are used to, but we will call on the sky dragon to strike your enemies.”
“Right…go do that,” Leonina said. She hated poetry, but they had just landed so they must be doing something right.
“Sergeant, good news, got some Qadiri here who think they can control storms. Give me some targets.”

Targets were not hard to locate. Though much of the Dominion’s military vehicles had been wrecked some still fought on, though the growing mud was proving a massive hindrance.
Lightning crackled overhead but the Qadiri formed a semi-circle, linking their hands. They began to chant. It was fortunate that they were not near the front line or they’d be a sitting target. However, to Leonina’s amazement, when the lightning next struck it arced down from the sky to strike a swamped tank with a resulting detonation. Another bolt hit close by a crater. As the stunned Dominion soldiers emerged they were cut down by snipers.

Watching the battle, Leonina felt a little impressed. She could feel the Force energy being channelled and directed to the storm, turning its raging power into purpose.
Soon though she was distracted by another commlink call. Sergeant Solveig. Freya and her knew each other quite well, but weren’t big fans of the other. Alpha females tended not to play well together.
“I’ll see what I can do. May take a while to get to you. Do not push further, Sergeant.”
She turned to her staff and organised a small force of lightly armed and armoured troops with scanning equipment and some permacrete detonators…just in case it became necessary to collapse the bunker.

 

[Karrigan'Xalda]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]


Up in the sky, lightning flashed around them and thunder boomed. It was joined by the storm of weapons fire that sputtered across the no man's land between the lines. While the Cataphracts and the regulars delivered heavy salvoes, the Silencers lined up accurate shots against the Dominion forces, taking their time to snipe high-value targets such as officers and sharpshooters.


Xalda took a breath as the mayhem unfolded around her. The Xioquo was sweating from her efforts. Sergeant Saito was on her commlink, speaking with the Cathar Colonel. The Xioquo could make out a bit of the conversation, but most of it was beyond her. Her focus lay elsewhere. Lightning flashed brilliantly in the sky, but something was different about it now. It was being steered. Lightning struck the Dominion lines. A bolt of lightning hit a Dominion position on the hill, cutting a tree in half in the process. Azyr, dreadful embodiment of the sky, would no longer terrorise them. At least for now, for Azyr was fickle. The sight invigorated her. So she drew upon the tangled web of power that was the might of the spirits. Darkness stirred inside her. It was her shield against the terrible power of the burning Light. Her life-long companion. The Darkness heeded her pleas and she gathered the moisture in the air. A curtain of mist descended upon them. "This one is ready," she declared.

"Move," Saito issued the order over the comm. "Be mindful of traps. Sergeant Jai Avesta, get up close with your jets. You can rain hell on the enemy up close." The Sergeant in question, whose full name was Azadi Jai Avesta, was in command of the Cataphracts that had joined the rag-tag group. Their heavy power armour would make moving up a muddy hill very awkward, but fortunately they had jetpacks. Technically she and Saito were equal rank, but she accepted her words with a curt nod. "May the Radiant Daughter preserve you from the darkness," she spared the Xioquo, "and may She lead you out of it."

Xalda muttered some curses when she saw the Qadiri take off. Pulling herself from the mud, she advanced as well. A thick fog had formed, obfuscating them from sight. Of course, infrared could help counter it to a degree. The fact that she, the Silencers and the Death Troopers wore stealthy armour that baffled sensors helped though.

Pistol and blade in hand she moved up, trying to avoid the bursts of gun fire that came sputtering through the fog. The Cataphracts were soaring through the sky to unleash hell upon the enemy. The Silencers moved stealthily, using their Force Sight abilities to see through the fog and snipe enemies. Where the opportunity presented itself, they would home in on Jedi to try and dampen their powers so that their allies could get the drop on them. Searching the secondary ripple effects emanating from cloaked snipers, they would get an idea of where the enemy was. Still, there were casualties. Not far from Xalda, a Silencer keeled over, faceplate smeared red with blood. Another Firemane soldier got his arm shorn through by an explosive round. Calling upon the spirits, the Xioquo wrapped herself in a cloak of obscurity, doing her best to suppress her aura. It would not fool Master or someone of equal level, but at least increase her chances of not being sniped.

But Jedi sharpshooters were concealed on the hill. Using their powers to guide slugs towards the enemy and see through the fog. Machine guns bellowed and grenade launchers belched grenades. Firemane soldiers fell, cut down by enemy fire. Moreover, there were other concealed dangers. Some of the suicide bombers had hidden when it became clear their death charge was futile.

One happened to be in the path of Laira and other soldiers, having hidden beneath corpses. Hearing hostiles approach, he saw his chance. His fingers moved towards the detonator. As the Redheaded Jedi Princess advanced up, Saito forcefully grabbed her by the shoulder. Rather than trust technology, she used the Force to see. "Down," she grunted. In the same motion she willed the Force to stun the would-be suicide bomber, deadening his nerves and freezing his limbs. Sweat dripped down her face. "Xalda." Grabbing the explosives with her mind, the Xioquo flung them away. "Clear," she declared. Then she shot the militiaman in the face with her shotgun.


xxx

"Acknowledged," Freya responded tersely and switched off her commlink. She and Leonina knew each other, though not biblically. Alpha females usually did not play well together. Thus they worked best when there was distance between them. "Who knew, seems it takes a rainstorm to get that pussycat wet," she quipped.

Mezha looked a bit confounded. "I do not understand what you mean," the Vong said in a puzzled tone.

"She's a giant cat...ehh, never mind," Freya said with an annoyed wave of her hand.

"Listen," Synthia, Mezha's Twi'lek buddy, urged them. Freya was half-certain the two were knocking boots, judging by how the woman had hovered over the Vong at the FOB. "We got incoming from the tunnel."

"Take cover. Let them close in," Mezha ordered in an authoritative voice. "We need a live one to question," she added seriously. Freya was, of course, no one's minion. The Vong was not her boss. However, in this situation the Vong's suggestions coincided with what she intended to do anyway.

Footsteps could be heard. Freya waited, anticipation filling her. Dominion came out of the tunnel and she took aim. Mezha gave a signal and the blonde Sergeant averted her eyes when Synthia hurled what she learned was a Vong version of a flashbang. There was a loud sonic boom, and the room was filled with a flash of bright light. Amidst the confusion, the Twi'lek hurled a blob into the fray. Nas joined her. They were apparently called Blorash jelly. In Freya's opinion, this was a stupid name.

Regardless, the jellies wrapped themselves around the legs of enemies, snaking tendril-like globs further up onto the victims' legs. Indeed it looked to Freya like their legs were being eaten. "Fire." Her bolter roared, firing APEB rounds at close range. Björn's bolter added to the mayhem and the rebels joined as well. Dominion soldiers unencumbered by the jelly returned fire, seeking cover where they could find it.

Freya swore she could see strange shapes in the air. One of the struggling Dominion soldiers was making strange hand gestures. Then there was a rush of air that picked Synthia off the ground and flung her about. Bolts of electricity hurtled towards Mezha and Freya, but the lightly armoured Vong dropped to the floor to avoid it. Freya, being a bigger and more obvious target, ate it. The lightning cascaded over her. Pain shot through her body. For a moment, her HUD went haywire and she cursed.

Rounds began pinging around her and she shook her head to see Mezha emerge to put a high-velocity slug into the hostile, blood streaming onto the floor. Her energy shields flashed, but she had recovered from the blow. She fired energised shards at a moving target, but the hostile disappeared behind cover. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nas send a stream of bullets into a charging Dominion soldier's chest. The clone trooper went limp and slumped against a wall.

Synthia hit the ceiling then came down from the sky, landing hard. Crawling to avoid bullets flying her way, she fired her pistol. Her hand moved to her webbing and she coaxed out a snake-like creature. Mezha bolted towards another position while Nas, Björn and other Republican Guard troopers sprayed the enemy with rounds. Freya pumped out APEB rounds. When the Vipers flanked them, the Sergeant moved forward. One man, perhaps realising she was not Force Dead, engaged her, hands glowing. Freya fired on the move. The first shot was dodged by the Forcewielder, the second shore through his arm. Lowering her shoulder, Freya rammed him. A clone trooper tried to take a pot shot at her, but an APEB round from Björn's boltgun sizzled through his throat.

The Forcewielder whose foot was being eaten by the bhorash jelly channelled more lightning, burning the obstruction away. He grunted in pain, but sent forking arcs of electricity their way. Freya staggered but moved forward, shooting towards her centre of mass. As the Dominion minion tried to dodge and get away, he suddenly experienced a sharp pain in his leg when the tsaisi tripped him and sunk its teeth into a gap in his armour, before quickly retreating back to Synthia. He cried out and hit the ground. His hands shook, though he tried to grab his pistol. Then he was clubbed over the head, knocking him out. "Collar him," Mezha ordered. "And tell the reinforcements we need the antidote. Fast"

 

[Tempest]

[member="Karrigan'Xalda"] [member="Laira Darkhold"]

As Tempest stood in the hangerbay, Natalie reached her. The younger woman handed over a datapad. Tempest studied it, eyes narrowed.
“Serene Springs, sounds more like a lovely spa resort than a horrible brainwashing camp. Still, this is good, it’s our best lead. Jump in, we could use you in case anything needs slicing.”
She brought up her commlink. “Loyalty, Nansal, I’m transmitting coordinates. Mirage Squadron will be covering us. I’m bringing some more friends too.”
Nyssa had appeared too, the wounds taken previously not doing enough to slow down the red Sith.
The storm below had been a great hindrance for Firemane as it prevented them landing the troops they needed. However, it had one unintended consequence; when Tempest needed forces there were more than a few units in the air with no viable destination.

As the command shuttle left the Scarlet Destiny, Tempest looked at the command briefing. Satellites provided a view of their destination. It was likely not going to be an easy run though. She showed Natalie and Nyssa whilst Loyalty and Varkasa connected on their own transports.

“This ‘Serene Springs’ looks anything but. It’s well hidden, and it’s no surprise we didn’t pick it out as anything special at first glance. They have a lot of defences, and what we see indicates massive flak. The reason for this is because the approach is not going to be easy. It sits at the centre of a network of marshes, streams and embankments. Even our best transports will have trouble getting too close. Fortunately, secrecy seems this place’s biggest strength otherwise, and from what we’ve seen defences are less strong. However, we must be prepared for all sorts of nasties. These Dominion people are fanatical and don’t care about casualties, so expect suicide bombers, traps, concealed emplacements and more.”

“The swamps to the south and west seem the easiest to approach; we have repulsors and they don’t so they don’t seem as ready for it. This’ll be no cakewalk though. Watch for mines and saboteurs. We need to ensure that they don’t escape easily, so I’m sending in two battalions to hold the north and east and prevent their escape. Commander Jai Kahlal will do the same in the air. Meanwhile, our forces will advance from the south and west. Cataphracts, you’ll hitch a ride on tanks or Yazgids to get across the marsh. Natalie, you’ll stay out of danger, snipe the enemy and be ready if we need some slicing. You can come with Nyssa and I…but I figure you’re better staying out of sight without us smashing around.”

They were still at least an hour out from touchdown, and then further to land, approach and fight through. Speed was important…but more so was not being ambushed and wrecked.

XXX

A similar, yet different toned briefing was taking place aboard a rebel Dominion convoy. As Mahtara’s renegades were closer to the site of Serene Springs they theoretically had a head start, but they had to head their forces by land through forests and valleys to not be observed. With that in mind they would likely come down from the north about the same time as Tempest’s forces arrived.
Three factions in one place? What could go wrong!

XXX

Tegaea had let Geva go with Airla, though she was sure to keep someone nearby, and to make sure the Force was suppressed on the Twi’lek. It would not do to let someone like that have too much leeway.

She briefly considered transferring the both of them out of her sight to another ship, but she rejected it. Better to keep them where she could see them.

The information which Airla revealed though was not revelatory, and indeed was a little too late to be useful. She knew of a great fortress or bunker complex beneath Purity – a fact which had come in just an hour before when troops on the surface had found this out.

However, the former ‘Jedi’ master did have two items of interest. Firstly, that the Radiant Cloak had some of the power for that zone housed there, and also that these tunnels had concealed entrances a long distance from the actual battlezone. If they looked, Firemane might find the boltholes…or a convenient way in.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Tempest"]

The rest of her time at the hospital was a blur. She brought food and drink to the wounded, changed bandages and bed sheets, cleaned the toilets. She did her duty diligently, as she was supposed to. Throughout it all, she fet like a fraud. She was a fraud. A Sith in sheep's clothing. Playing the part of a Jedi. Feigning repentance. Her black soul was rotten. Dirty, stained and corrupt. Diana was right. She needed to be cleansed.

Eventually it was time for them to depart. The Repentant assembled outside in the courtyard. The Chief Healer of the facility came out and said a few words. Roxane listened and nodded, but was not really paying attention. Then suddenly the Chief Healer was standing right in front of her. "Master Jedi," Roxane said, inclining her head slightly. The purest Light radiated from the older woman. So pure and dedicated, unlike the darkness indie her own soul.

"Look up, girl," the Rodian spoke commandingly. "You did good work. If all my regular nurses had your dedication...well, we do what we can for the Light, don't we?"

For just a moment, Roxane felt foolish, treasonous pride. "Master...I'm...I'm not worthy of such praise...I'm..."

"A Repentant, yes, yes, and you still have a long road ahead of you," the matron cut her off with a wave of her hand. "The Order is there to help. Go with the Light, girl."

"How's the boy...did he make it?"

The Rodian smiled slightly. "Slept as soundly as a baby. He may never walk again...but he has a chance to live now. You helped an innocent soul today." The older woman patted Roxane on the shoulder and turned away.

The group headed back towards their vehicle, but Diona took Roxane aside. "Repentant, a word," she said in a tone that brokered no contradiction, pulling her away. "Listen about earlier..."

"Jedi Diana was right," Roxane interrupted her with unnatural vehemence. "I am a fraud. I do not deserve the Chief Healer's praise, to wear these robes or walk these halls."

"The Dominion decides what you deserve. You have been declared a Repentant by the Order and you came here at its behest. You helped people." Diona's tone was so sharp it made her wince. "Diana...has had it hard. She'll recover. Elpsis was already punished for wounding her."

"Not enough. Not nearly enough for causing such pain. After I'd left the room, I heard the whispers of the Dark Side in my mind, urging me to renounce my vows." Pain flared up in her throat. "I must...report myself."

Diona grabbed her by the arm. Her grip was strong. "I am the judge of that, not you. You're not a Sith anymore."

"And if she awakens in me again? I must atone..."

"Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you report yourself?" the vehemence of Diona's words was such that it seemed to even take the Jedi by surprise. Roxane took a step back. "You have not erred," Diona said in a calmer tone, trying to regain her composure. "You stumbled for a moment, that's it. I will give you chores to clear your mind. Understood?"

It was a sin to lie, but she nodded. "Understood."

"What's taking you so long?" a masculine voice interjected. Jedi Thorus approached them. "Is something the matter?" he regarded them with watchful eyes.

Diona shook her head. "No, I was just educating Repentant Roxane."

"Yes," Roxane said softly. Her voice was low. "I had some questions...about the Code. Sorry for being tardy."

"Good, then come on. There's no time to waste. Sith bombardment is making the roads dangerous." Without any further word, they boarded the truck. Conversation ensued around her, but Roxane said nothing. As the truck drove down the poorly paved, mud-covered road and rain splattered the window, her mind wandered, blotting out the chatter around her.

Jedi Diona had ordered her not to report herself for committing thoughtcrime.

Diona was a thoughtcriminal.

It was her duty to report both of them.

"Roxane, is everything alright?" Helena pulled her away from her musings, looking concerned. "You're so quiet. I heard you had an, um, unpleasant encounter. It's never easy..."

"Meeting your former victims? Yeah...that was harsh. But I'm alright, really. Can only move forward and make amends."

"I'm so glad you're one of us now. I hope we can be friends."

"Best of friends."

The knowledge of what she had to do was like a heavy weight on her shoulders. Diona had freed her from the Sith's lies and delivered her to the Inquisition, who had taught her the true meaning of the Light. But the Dark Side was insidious. It could take root in someone's mind without them even noticing, before pushing them over the edge. Roxane would be saving them both.

It was raining heavily when they arrived at the camp. Rain splattered loudly on the roof of the barracks. Their transport was let through the security checkpoints, the Repentant disembarked and plunged into the sheeting rain. Work crews of prisoners were still labouring. The Repentant were guided to their rooms, rushing to avoid the rainfall. Roxane could feel the watchful gaze of Diona on her when she was brought to hers. However, she did not stay there. Approaching one of the guards, she declared she needed to report to the Inquisitor. It did not take long for her to be escorted to her office.

The office she was led into was Spartan and utilitarian. Rather than sit behind her desk, Lea was sitting on the carpet, meditating. However, though submerged in the currents of the Force, she reacted immediately when there was a knock on the door. "Enter," she said with her eyes still closed.

"Roxane, come in. I hear the Chief Healer was full of praise for you. That's a promising beginning. I understand there was an...episode at the hospital. Diana is a good woman and true, but you are not Elpsis anymore."

"Yes, Inquisitor," Roxane said submissively, lowering her head slightly.

"What can I do for you, sister?" the Twi'lek Inquisitor asked gently.

"It is...about what happened at the hospital. I have something...troubling to report."

"Why don't you come here and sit with me?" So serene, so gentle. Roxane crossed the distance and sat down. "Now...what is it that you want to tell me, Roxane? You can tell me anything. I am here to help you."

"When I left Diana's room I, uh, heard a voice in my head," Roxane began. Her heart thumped inside her chest. "It...urged me to return to my darker ways. It told me th-that I hadn't been a Sith." She almost faltered.

"Go on, sister. I sense that is not all," the Inquisitor spoke encouragingly, taking Roxane's hand.

"I informed Jedi Diona. Said I needed to report myself for...corruption. She...she told me not to. She grabbed my arm and o-ordered me."

"I see," Lea was silent for a moment. "It was very brave of you to bring this to me. You heard the whispers of the Dark Side, trying to pull you back into the abyss. But you resisted."

Roxane took a deep breath, looking relieved. "T-thank you. It means so much to me that you say that."

"But Diona ordering you not to come to me is...troubling."

"Do you think she's turned? I don't want her to get hurt. She's my friend, my s-sister." Anxiety rose inside Roxane. "Is she a thoughtcriminal?"

Lea gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Peace, sister. Every servant of the Light has to struggle with the Dark. Diona is a brave warrior of the Light, but even she is not immune. As of late she has been acting...strange. Expressing signs of doubt, doorways to the Dark Side."

"But we can still help her right?"

"I am certain of it. The Dark Side is a cancer, but if we identify its growths earlier enough, we can cut out the sickness. Depending on how far she is gone, the medicine may be harsh, but it will save her. You have done the Order a great service, sister. When the Grand Inquisitor arrives in the morning, he will be very proud of you. Now rest, sister."

"Yes, Inquisitor." Slowly Roxane rose to her feet. Her leg still hurt, so she had to walk with care. She gave her benefactor a bow, then turned and walked out of the room. The door closed behind her. She had done the right thing. It was all for the greater good.

xxx

The prisoners had been searched for concealed weapons and collared. "Reinforcements are on the way. Hold position till they arrive," a voice crackled out of the comm. It was of a commander in the Andorian Guard. "Retreat is not an option."

"Understood. I can't empathise the urgency of securing our foothold here and," Mezha replied and terminated the connection. "Look sharp, people," she ordered her soldiers and moved over to where their Jedi prisoner had been restrained. He was in a bad way, after having part of his foot eaten by jelly and being bitten by Synthia's tsaisi. There was a collar around his neck. Try as he might, the Force faltered.

"Tell me about the tunnel network," she ordered. He gave her a cold look.

"Just let me beat it out of the little chit," Freya grunted. There were murmurs of agreement from some Vipers.

"There is no death, there is the Force," the Jedi said, though his voice was filled with pain. His body was shaking. "Not that you would know any of this, abomination." His eyes conveyed pure revulsion. Such was the price of a never-ending civil war.

"You Jedi are smart. Sure they teach how painful that venom is. It gets worde over time. Excruciatingly," Mezha said coldly.

"Any...suffering I endure in this realm is but a pre...prelude to oneness with the...Force."

Mezha grabbed him by the back of his head, pulling him close. Her grip was tight and her claws drew blood. "And if you don't tell me what I want to know, your death will be very slow and agonising."

"What about you? You want to die for a system that treats 'mundanes' like you like garbage to be thrown away when you're not neded anymore?" Synthia threw in. Her words were directed towards the two common clone troopers. "I'm a clone, too. Born and bred by the Dominion. I joined the Guard to liberate people like me. Be a person."

"The Guard are monsters. I won't betray my brethren," one of the troopers declared piously.

"I can tell about the tunnels," the other spoke up, earning a hate-filled glare from his comrades.

"Traitor..."

"I'm not dying for the monks and their temples."

"Chaos take you," the Jedi cursed. Sweat dripped down his face. His skin looked sickly. "There is no emotion, there is calm," he chanted. He howled, deep in the throes of agony as the poison coursed through his veins. His treasonous subordinate had taken the infidels' attention off him. Using his chance, he tried to swallow something. However, Freya was on the game and seized his throat in a powerful vice-grip, keeping him from swallowing the cyanide tooth.

"Spit it out, queen, or I'll rip your jaw," she growled angrily. Yanking his head forward, she forced him to spit.

"You see that. He was ready to abandon you because his order mattered more to him than your lives," Synthia stated. "What can you tell me about the tunnels? If you cooperate, we'll treat you well. You'll be taken away from the fighting..."

The cooperative trooper swallowed, visibly at war with himself. "They lead to..." Suddenly the Jedi's comm rang. Someone was calling. It had been taken away from him earlier, preventing him from any funny business. Mezha handed it to the cooperative prisoner.

"Tell them everything's fine," she ordered. The or else did not need to be stated outright. She held the device towards his mouth.

"Don't listen to...," whatever his comrade was about to say died on his tongue, for Nas beat him with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

The soldier's voice was a bit shaky when he opened his mouth. "This is...Alec Soldier. Everything's under control. Situation normal."

Over the comm, a voice asked. "What happened? Where is Jedi Alesandro?"

"Uh...Jedi Alesandro got hit by one of the infidels. He heroically fended off a Vong attack," the clone trooper responded, trying to sound convincing by filling his voice with the necessary pathos. "He's one with the Force. Thanks to his heroism, we're all fine now."

"Where is Jedi Aeton?" Before the trooper could respond, the voice continued. "We're sending a unit up."

"Sir..."

"It's a trap!" the Jedi yelled. Loud enough to be heard through the comm? Perhaps. The connection had been cut.

"Get ready, grab what weapons you can. We'll meet them in the tunnels," Mezha ordered quickly.

"What about him?" Nas asked, pointing at the Jedi.

"If he wants to become one with the Force so badly...," Mezha trailed off. "Stick a gag in his mouth and wire him with some explosives." Behind the faceplate of her helmet, Freya smiled. Quickly the team got ready. The two grunts that had been taken captive were brought to the rear area where they could not cause mischief.

A few explosives were strapped to the captured Jedi. He struggled, thrashed and cursed, but the poison was sapping his strength and causing him great pain, so his struggle was a futile one. But they had to move quickly. The sound of approaching footsteps bid them to make haste. There were many footsteps - and they were getting louder. It was dark in the tunnel. Mezha made a silent prayer to the Yun'o, as the enemy drew closer. The restrained Jedi was deposited well in advance of the strike force.

With her sensitive hearing, Mezha heard the Dominion clone troopers ere she saw them. Synthia was at her side. Sometimes, Mezha wondered how the fact that she was fighting people who might be her literal kin must make the Twi'lek feel. How she could keep it together. The Vong had only known the Dominion as murderers and butchers who'd tormented her, but Synthia had grown up alongside them. But then, the knowledge of what it did to people like her gave her incentive to combat it.

Mezha counted down the seconds, fiddling with the detonator in her hand. The Jedi tried to will words to leave his lips, but the gag kept him from speaking coherently and the poison took its toll on him. Dominion soldiers approached, and she pressed the button. The Jedi was ripped apart by the explosion. So were a number of Dominion soldiers. Others were thrown back by the blast wave or struck with hot shards. Shrapnel tore through the air with blast and heat. The cries of wounded troopers filled the tunnel. But more came - many more. Grimly, Mezha raised the sights of her rifle and squeezed the trigger. A clone trooper let out a yell and crumpled to the floor, but another trooper took his place, followed by another and then another. Salvoes of slugthrower fire sailed down the tunnel Mezha and her allies. The rebels had poked a hornet's nest - and were outnumbered.

xxx

Aboard the shuttle, Natalie took a look at the satellite images while Tempest briefed them. She nodded curtly. "I'll find my way in. There's one thing you gotta be prepared for," she said. This was about to be an awkward conversation. It had not escaped her attention that Elpsis was involved with Tempest. She also seemed to have a thing with the Sith for some unfathomable reason. Natalie felt like blaming it on the redhead hitting her head very hard during her fight with Matsu Xiangu.

And then there was herself. The girl had saved her life. Part of Natalie could not help wonder whether sending so many people who were invested in the redhead might not make things go very wrong. Emotion blurred judgement. "I've gone through the records. This camp has one purpose: producing brainwashed drones. Everything else is a means to an end. What I'm saying is that if Elpsis is still alive, she may not want to be rescued. She may be one of the brainwashed fanatics."

"You don't know her. She's tougher than you think," Nyssa grunted.

"And a firestorm when she puts her mind to it - and that's nice, sane Elpsis who plays with orphans. Not completely out of her mind, fanatic Elpsis. I can take the shot with a paralysing dart if needed."

 

[Laira Darkhold]

“Send in the Vanguard… down their throats.” The General’s calm voice echoed through the command center as he spoke. His mind was still turned to playing the cosmic game of chess against his opposition and his calm exterior was a facade. It was not that he lacked confidence, but he refused to acknowledge that his enemy had brought far more to bear than he had anticipated, and now while in his innermost thoughts there was doubt, General Kennobi continued to exude the calm confidence his ancient namesake had made famous.

There would be a great deal of blood spilt this day.

~

A large assortment of armored warriors marched through the widening corridor of Fort Purity, glisten metallic plates worn with traditional Jedi robes and hoods, dozens of them all gripping the weapons of their trade. The refugees that remained seemed emboldened by the presence of the Vanguard, what the Dominion of Light had long reputed as unbeatable warrior-priests who brought the Light to the darkest corners of Tephrike. Some carried antique bows, others halberds, and others shields and longswords as their primary weapons best with a single crystal near their grips that pulsed with energy and an aura about them indicated them as veteran Jedi forces being released for combat against the far outsiders who besieged them in their mountain home.

~

The rain fell hard on Laira’s jacket, soaking through the fabric and to her undersuit beneat, pattering against her energy helm, dripping and fizziling against the invisible barrier, blurring her vision slightly. Her pistol was almost spent, even through the extra energy packs she had brought, the battle had claimed most of her ammunition.

Grey eyes glanced at her compatriots, the Silencers and Resistance troopers alike. Her friends from the Resistance seemed to be fairing better in terms of armament, but they’d taken their share of losses during the suicide charges and the assaults from the enemy against their footholds near the base of the mountain. Lieutenant Stalgis had helped organize the front and maintain some degree of order, but the squad was down from twelve to seven now, and Laira’s companions seemed all the more dour for it.

When the Qadiri Silencer took off, Cataphracts surging forward in a surge of exhaust through the rain, Stalgis called across the general comms, “Cover fire and tactical advance, all units.” His own rifle stuttered out a dozen rounds in short order, spraying plasma-driven slugs towards Jedi Sharpshooters near an emplacement above them. Snipers made mincemeat of soldiers as they advanced, but Firemane and the Republican Guard advanced nonetheless. Guided slugs impacted against the blazing silver blade Laira used, blocking the volleys sent by the sharpshooters. As she stepped forward, Saito grabbed her and yanked her back down to dispatch a hidden suicide bomber and fling away his explosives. “Thanks,” The redhead muttered, taking note to try to use her senses a little more, but in all this war and death, her Force Senses were muddled. All she really had was her danger sense, and even though it may only provide a split second warning, that was usually all she needed.

Not in this case, but usually.

Laira brought her blade up, deflecting another guided bolt away from her chest. The sharpshooters were incredibly accurate, but more a nuisance to the Cataphracts and Silencers than a serious threat.

“Are those, arrows?” Someone said over the comms. A simple arrow arced through the air, striking a Galactic Alliance Guard in the chest, bouncing off the armor harmlessly. Lightning surged through the air, striking the warrior precisely where the arrow had hit him, frying everything within the armor. Elsewhere arrows turned into fireballs or beams of energy that lanced through cover and armor alike. Someone fragmented into a dozen identical bolts that rained down on the Republican Guard.

Beneath the cover of their archer brethren, other members of the Vanguard advanced and took to melee. Laira darted forward, the best way to defend her friends was to engage the enemy up close before they got within arms reach of her friends. She placed a heavy kick into one of the enemies shield, forcing him backwards a step and bringing her crackling silver blade arcing through the rain into the armor of a second.

Much to her surprise, the blade did not melt through the armor of the warrior, merely leaving a scar across the metal where the heat had scored it. His halberd struck her with the haft, in the leg, pain streaking through her limb from the point of impact. She flicked her wrist, flames rippling through the air around her to spray against the warriors shield. She had thought the flames would wrap around the ship somewhat, but despite the effort the redhead had put into the pyrokinetic blast, its fire clawed at the barrier and continued to be diverted well over a meter past the edge of the shield’s physical form.

Laira quickly realized she was in a bad spot, these two weren’t the inexperienced mooks the Dominion had been assaulting them with, but veterans, like the Hammer she had fought in the jungles after her crash.

[member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]
[member="Tempest"]

 

[Glory]

[member="Laira Darkhold"], [member="Valiens Nantaris"]

((This is only the Mezha/Freya part))

There was no peace beneath the sun of Tephrike. No mercy. No reprieve. Only a never-ending dance of death. Firemane, the Republican Guard and the Dominion of Light were the dancers. The roar of explosions, the staccato of slugthrowers and the cries of the wounded provided the music. The lamentations of the dead's dependents were the refrain. Thus it had been for centuries. Ground was gained, lost, regained and lost again. Across the planet, men and women were born - or grown - raised and then sent off to fight and kill.

When they died, they were called martyrs, and the next generation was raised to follow in their footsteps. For the glory of the Light, for Liberty, for revenge. Thus it was today, as it had been for centuries. This was just one of many battles that been fought. Perhaps this one would make a difference - or not. If the Republican Guard was not driven away, their troops would pour through the tunnels into the Dominion underground base.

The tunnel was crawling with Dominion clone troopers and militia. With a devotion that could only be described as fanatical, they threw themselves into the breach, firing as they did. Sharpshooter fire made mincemeat out of many as heavy slug rounds pounded their bodies. Incoming fire slashed down the tunnel towards the mixed unit of Republican Guard and Firemane operatives.

A grenade detonated a few metres away from Freya. Slug rounds smashed into the improvised barricades from all sides. She felt a sharp pain in her underarm from a shard. Grimly, the Sergeant sent a storm of fire towards the Dominion soldiers. Anger had always kept her going, from the zombie-infested slums of Denon to the killing fields of Gehenna and beyond. It set her thoughts ablaze with hate and fury. And so she fought. Later on, her subsequent memories of the fight would only come back to her as flashes of disconnected brutality, of tight combat with desperate enemy troops.

She poured fire into a Dominion trooper's shields until the rounds punched through his chest, shredding the Zabrak clone's torso into a hamburger. She hurled a sticky grenade into a soldier dashing for cover, the explosive striking the armour and latching on it with magnetic clamps, and the horrified cries before Freya triggered the detonator.

She remembered bashing a Dominion soldier with the butt of her bolter, beating him so hard she caved in his skull, remembered shoving her pistol into a dying enemy's mouth and pulling the trigger. She remembered the sizzle and satisfaction as Viper partisans cut them down with searing fire and fury. The screams when Björn used an improvised flamethrower to ignite an enemy soldier, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air. The blast of electricity that turned an allied Duros soldier into a charred corpse. The cries of a Vong soldier when a rocket propelled grenade blew away his legs. The hiss of Synthia's snake when it hamstrung a Twi'lek clone trooper before spraying venomous poison. How she was showered with gore when an allied Nautolan jumped on a grenade that a Jedi's Force-guided throw had propelled right into their midst. His prayer to uncaring gods that was cut short as life left his eyes.

It was all a blur. Throughout it all, she killed. Some moments stood out. Jedi Warriors clad in resplendent armour, carrying heavy shields combined with halberds or longswords, crossed the distance, charging over the dead bodies of their comrades. Where projectiles smashed into their shields, shimmering barriers formed. Their swords or polearms glowed with a fierce light. Heedless of death, they advanced. Their arrival was greeted with cheers from the Dominion soldiers, who took heart as their champions led the charge. They blocked bullets, let loose lightning and telekinesis while chanting the Code.

"There is no emotion, there is calm.
There is no ignorance, there is obedience.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is order.
There is no death, there is the Light."

"It's the Vanguard. Grenades!" Freya heard Mezha call out to her troopers. "Björn, explosive bolts," the blonde human commanded. She and the Valkyri readied explode on impact grenades. Flinging them into the fray, they had the satisfaction of seeing a Jedi try to deflect the explosive ball with the Force, only for it to blow up in his face. Bolter explosive rounds hammered the Jedi's shield wall. They had enough punch to damage light vehicles. This took its toll, but the Jedi were skilled at pooling their powers, creating overlapping shields that boosted one another.

The Vipers hurled their Blorash jelly and snap bug projectiles. Some attackers were disorientated for a few moments, others were restrained as the living creatures grabbed their feet. Mezha sent a hail of bullets towards a Vanguard, firing her carbine in short controlled bursts. His shield blocked them, but then the loud sonic boom disorientated him and she took careful aim, shooting low. The bullet slammed into his leg and she sprayed him with rounds.


A Jedi Master with a large shield crossed the distance. Urging her men on, she chanted the Code, in a voice strong enough that the tunnel seemed to shake. Her charge gave them heart. A storm of projectiles shot towards her but she advanced nonetheless, even when an explosion cracked the shield. The barrier manifested by the shield glowed brightly as fire crept over it. Then she slammed the shield into a Viper with enough force to cave his skull in before swinging her Force imbued halberd. A rush of wind knocked her enemies back.

The bolter was no good at close range, so Freya dropped it. Instead she met the Jedi with her Phrik sword. The two clashed, halberd on sword. With her power armour, Freya had extreme strength, but her enemy matched it through use of her powers. Moving with preternatural speed, the Jedi used her halberd to keep her at bay The weapon had reach, making it difficult for Freya to get close and get a solid hit in. It did not take long for the Jedi to land a strike on her leg. The heavy armour plating kept it from penetrating but it still bloody hurt. With the brute strength of a Midvinter bear, Freya launched a powerful overhead cut towards her opponent with her sword, but the Jedi intercepted it with her shield before delivering a heavy blow with its haft. It was followed by a telekinetic slam into Freya's chest.

Freya grunted, feeling the wind had been knocked out of her when she was pushed back. She took a step back. Intercepting a strike, she removed her free hand from her sword's hilt to grab the shield, grappling. Both wrestled, with the Jedi pouring her strength into holding. Freya cried out when she felt something akin to sharp needles pierce her mind. Then she suddenly rammed the shield into her. It was enough to unbalance her enemy and make her drop her weapon. Freya launched a slash at her. However, an invisible pull tore the weapon out of her grasp. The soldier reached for her pistol, but then she was flung through the air. She had no time to recover from her daze when her head hit the ground, for pressure clamped down upon her neck, squeezing it tightly. Freya choked, gasping for air as she was lifted off the floor again. She saw the Jedi ball her hand into a clenched fist, intensifying the pressure around her throat. Dark circles danced before her eyes.

Training took over. Rage seized her. Fear got you killed, anger kept you alive. The injectors in her armour hissed, pumping more stimulants into her bloodstream. With an angry growl, she rallied. Her shaking hand managed to grab her concealed sidearm. As the silhouette thrust her clenched fist forward, Freya fired. She landed hard Ouch. There was a muzzle flash and a loud sonic boom. Sonic disruptors were illegal in many 'civilised' systems. Freya did not give a frak. A beam of light slashed through the Jedi's torso, streaking out of her back. The Jedi cried out in pain and spat blood. She shorted out the pistol in Freya's hand with a stream of ion.

Still reeling from the choke, the soldier launched herself at the Jedi. A hard kick knocked the sword aside. A furious punch smashed her helmet, but a subsequent one was caught by the Jedi. It was like pushing against a wall. Freya figured the woman was drawing on her last reserves, what with having a hole inside her and all. A Force-kick caused Freya to stagger. She pulled back. Using her weak arm, Freya grabbed the woman's arm by the hand. Forcefully twisting the Jedi's arm so that her elbow was facing to the right. With her other hand, she punched as hard as she could with an opened palm, striking the elbow. Her strike broke the arm at the joint. A blood-curdling howl escaped the Jedi's throat. Electricity crawled over Freya and she shook. Her body jerked painfully, but adrenaline filled her. Her fist smote the Jedi on the neck, breaking it. Life left the woman's eyes. More troopers came. There were always more.


Mezha faced her own fight. A stream of high-velocity slug rounds exited her carbine as she fired at the enemy. Then she perceived a shape. A silhouette, really. It moved in a blur. She sent a stream of bullets its way. She was certain she heard a cry of pain, but then a grenade explosion sounded nearby and her ears rang from the loud blast. Despite being in a bit of a daze, she levelled a carbine and shot a Dominion trooper as he rushed at her and he collapsed in a bloody heap a metre away from her. She looked around, trying to catch sight of her opponent.

She heard noise, and spun. The Jedi leapt, manifesting in her midst. Landing a powerful cut, he struck the weapon that she had raised in defence. His blade glowed with a fierce light and he clove the carbine in twain. One half fell to the ground. Mezha threw the smoking other half at him. Raising her hand, she made the fire spitter eject a ball of flaming, explosive biomatter. The Jedi ignited like a candle, bathed in flame. A bright glow engulfed him as he sought to absorb the heat. Mezha drew her vibrosword, plunging it into a gap inside the armour plating covering the Jedi's flaming torso. Where she struck, red ichor spilled onto her blade.

But the man continued to fight. With a furious cut, his blade connected with Mezha's leg. Staggering, she had to roll to avoid another swing directed towards her head. Her opponent tore off his ashen robes and brought the Force in to end the blaze, panting. He was fast, but he could not anticipate her actions because she was a void. The great sword slashed past her head just a centimetre away from her vision. She danced away, ducked under a heavy blow, and he howled when she slashed his knee joint. But he came at her again, driving her backward. In these confined quarters, it was difficult for her to manoeuvre. They clashed and she managed to parry a thrust past her shoulder. Then she was seized in a net of golden Force energy. She pushed against the net, trying to stop it from constricting any further and slicing through her suit. But will alone could not stop it. With each moment that passed, the net grew tighter, ensnaring her. Her body jerked in agony as the Jedi tightened the net. Blood caked her torso when the net sliced into her flesh. Try as she might, will could not break it on her own and the constraints kept her from pulling her pistol. She desperately tried to reach for a grenade. If she could not break free, she could try to take him into hell with her.

Then the Jedi grunted in pain when a blast bug was hurled his way at high speed, ramming him. He picked up a corpse and sent it flying towards Synthia, the thrower of the projectile biot. For just a moment, it disrupted his concentration. Freed from the net, Mezha was bleeding and in a lot of pain. But adrenaline shot through her body. Jerkily, she stood, and attacked, a Vong battle cry escaping her tongue.

Her Fire Spitter dosed him with more heat. The air grew heavier around her as the Jedi tried to crush her. Her body jerked painfully as she threatened to buckle under the crushing weight. She grit her teeth amidst the pain. With a cryo projector held in her off-hand, she unleashed a torrent of freezing chemicals at the man. Frost replaced blazing heat. The laws of thermodynamics kicked in as the metal plating of the affected portion of his armour super heated, then super cooled. This caused it to shatter.

The Jedi staggered, weakened and in pain. Mezha launched an aggressive flurry of strikes with her sword. She nicked him with a staccato of increasingly debilitating cuts, striking the thick armour that protected him. He swung his long sword, trying to use its longer reach to keep her at bay. But burns and the freezing cold had taken their toll on him. She sprayed his right arm with another hail of freezing chemicals. His sword arm was little good now. Frostbite set in. Getting desperate, he crushed her gun. She might be Force Dead, but her weapon was not and so it crumpled into a useless piece of metal. She threw it at him.

Behind his mask his lips moved, whispering an incantation. She heard the familiar words, and could feel a net forming around her body, seeking to seize her. Anger took ahold of her and she rushed forward, lunging at him. When she thrust her sword forward, he grabbed her wrist with his gauntlet-covered hand, trying to keep the weapon from being plunged into his chest. He poured the Force into his grip, twisting her limb painfully. Hissing a Vong curse, Mezha headbutted him on the nose. Her blade dug deep into flesh and bone and came to a stop in a rib. It came back coated in blood. He died. She staggered. The adrenaline had worn off.