On a World Far away, in another Life

[Laira Darkhold]

Contruum

Rickard Gault was a Republic Marine assigned to the garrison on Contruum. Orbital stations were being prepared and put together, defenses being brought online, and barricades being erected. Rickard felt bad for the folks on the surface though. Here in space there were a thousand hazards to deal with unique to space warfare, but at least they mattered. The mudbugs on the surface, well, even if they held out, they could still lose. The nation that controlled the space around a planet controlled the planet.

Rickard hefted a box of ammunition and started walking. There were alcoves and defensive positions inside the orbital station, areas for defensive weaponry, and spots the marines were planning on putting up fights against the One Sith invaders. It would work out, perhaps. Rickard had his doubts, they’d never been able to before but at least he wasn’t trapped on the surface with no hope of getting off the planet if they didn’t make it.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Rickard sat watching the monitors, waiting for the boarding actions to begin. Someone in the brass had decided to make the stand on the surface in a mountain, in a subterranean fortress and the politicians had moved the capital in a haste, making this one fight a make or break fight for all those involved. Rickard wasn’t happy about the situation, but he could make due. Fifteen years in the service, he had seen the dissolution of the Sith Empire, the rise of the One Sith, and seen the Republic hammered out of the Core after Netherworld.

He stuffed another ammunition box into the alcove and closed the blast door, sealing the ammunition in. No reason for the Sith to be able to see it and use it as they saw fit. “Well Hammond. Looks like its gonna be a mess. How tight do you think it will be.”

“They gotta take us down mate. So long as Sky Shield is up and running, we will pull through, no matter what the SuCom or the Jedi say about anything else.” A different man sat with his back to a barrier, looking at the sensor monitors. Just needed to outlast them, didn’t need to win.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

An eerie silence fell upon the corridors of the station with only impacts of artillery hitting the station. But then the volleys of batteries came to a brief halt after the shields and all other defenses installed on the station lost all its power. A sole vessel of the One Sith, full of warmongering Vong warriors and paid mercenaries, approached the the station and commenced the procedures of boarding it. The first layers of Republic’s defenses were stacked and tight with deadly weapons waiting to be triggered.

Everyone had a duty to uphold. And so did Rickard.

Not moments later when the hostile boarding party the Marine could hear gunfire coming from the corridors of the station. He knew that his comrades on the front lines were doing their best in outlasting the enemy, yet certain death would overshadow most of the men. Death was something that Rickard was somewhat ready to face.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Surprisingly, the front lines were giving the invaders a helluva time to advance within the interior of the orbital station. Indeed, the Republic had lost major systems and battles by the suppressing figures of the One Sith and its allies. Rickard had been on all of them. Ever since the Sith came rose from their graves and attacked the Republic at its very core. And since then he’d been mourning for his fallen comrades, the citizens lost to the wrath of the Sith, and not being able to do his very best to repel the Sith. He felt ashamed for not being able to carry his duty at his very best. It hurt his pride and honor not being able to show the people of the Republic a sign of hope.

But maybe this battle would finally be the turning point for the Republic against the Sith.

From the gunfire and the war cries that echoed from where the invaders boarded they had a chance to bring victory. Even if it meant his life, the Marine was ready to fight and attempt to achieve a victory for his people.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Reports came from the commanding officers at the front lines and had requested for reinforcements as their men were being severely depleted. How many minutes had passed since the first shot fired in this micro skirmish within this invasion? No one wasn’t entirely sure, but they took that the time as decent timing. It’d take in the previous battles five or so minutes for the front lines to be nearly exhausted. However, this proved to be otherwise in this scenario.

“Come on, men! Let’s move it,” the Marine said to his platoons as they were the one of the few units close to the lines. With such haste they sprinted to their comrades in need. The sounds of fire in the orbital station ahead wasn’t as bad as Rickard remembered from Telti, or Manaan, or Kashyyyk. It sounded like the fight was almost even, the shouting of Republic troops could still be heard over the roars of Yuuzahn Vong warriors pressing against them.
The situation didn’t look as bad as he had thought when they got the call to move in. Reserves to front line, fighting through the corridors of the space station. And it had taken the brass a while to call them up. Not bad news, thought the marine.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Rickard dropped to a knee, peering out into the corridor. The small E-Web set up in a different doorway was being used by the Republic Forces to suppress the Yuuzhan Vong advance. But then, why were he and his men needed?

He spotted a Major, excellent, a career officer. Just what the front lines needed to maintain order. The sarcasm in his head was prevalent and thick. It worried him that he was so disdainful of the commanders these days. It had come from the long string of retreats, strategic repositionings, withdrawls, and losses, but it didn’t used to be his way. Rickard had always convinced himself he was loyal and dutiful, but the times, they were changing even as he peeked around a corner.

“The vong are covering their advance to the station controls. We have to push through these ones and help secure the control room. Now.” The major’s orders were barked, gruff and grim. What he said wasn’t good news either. If the One Sith gained control of the stations main control center it would spell the end of the Republic forces on the station, and probably result in the battle being over quickly.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Rickard and the Republic Marines started firing from their positions, advancing from cover to cover, the heavy buck of the slugthrower in his hands jarring him despite the recoil suppressors. Each 12.7mm round ripped through the air and took vonduun hard to the chest or snapped into durasteel walls. The war had been long and hard, and at every corner both sides had found themselves trapped in perpetual battle of technological advancement.

In Rickard’s mind though, nothing beat a big slugthrower with AP rounds, and he was mostly right. Even Beskar wasn’t impervious to the kinetic force of a big slugthrower like the MH model he carried. As the group fought their way forward, vong and republic marine fell alike, and without the supporting fire of the E-Web backing them up, their pace slacked off and slowed, not as much an advance, more a stalemate.

With each passing moment, Rickard felt his heart beating just a little faster than the cold calm and collected he had been in previous battles. Rumors on the ground and in space were that Mandalorians were assisting the One Sith in cracking open the Supreme Commander’s super coffin, and were assaulting the station in strike teams.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Rickard’s rifle barked out a few more rounds as he claimed a new piece of cover for his own, looking down the long corridor behind him, seeing his commander making his way up the line. Down the otherway the Yuuzhan Vong were just lying in wait, throwing thud bugs and razor bugs when targets present themselves.

The Major dropped himself beside Rickard, glancing further down the corridor, panting and out of breath. “They have it sealed tighter than a Jedi’s butthole, but we are gonna have to clear them out. Word from control is they are cutting the doors now. They will be in and have control of the station in no less than twenty.”

Rickard’s eyes widened. That's why he wasn’t cold and calm anymore. He was afraid. He could feel his fear building around him as the Major spoke. After everything, after six years of fighting, this was going to be the end of him. Years of fighting wasted because some half-breed, two-bit alien got its hands on the control center of a space station.

“Well, then we got to punch through to the hangar and see if we can swoop around this lot and take it from the other side.” It wasn’t the best plan he had ever come up with, but it gave them a maybe instead of certain death.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The republic troops gathered around Rickard and the marines did a quick weapons check. Most of the next twenty minutes would be spent running, full sprint. If they got bogged down on this route, it would be the end of it. The trip around was almost sixteen minutes on foot, and it didn’t leave a lot of time for error.

With a final check, the Marines started running, away from the Vong. A triumphant roar broke from the Yuuzhan Vong, oblivious to the strategy at play. Circumvent an enemy and they cease to be an obstacle. That was the old saying running through Rickard’s head as he and the platoon took off full sprint, ducking through a corridor connecting them to the old hangar near the control center the Vong were slicing.

Seconds passed and Rickard’s heart was thumping out of his chest. The old hangar was the halfway point, and they had twelve minutes left to cross it, and fight their way to the main corridor. Then they had thirty minutes until helmets ran out of air. They were gonna make it he could feel it deep in his bones.

The Marines broke from cover of the corridor full sprint. Off to the side, Rickard could see a pair of starfighters he hadn’t seen before. They couldn’t be left over, they still had heat rising from their engines.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

As the group filed into the opposite corridor Rickard saw the doors closing. Blast doors. Turadium blast doors. Some genius had installed them throughout the interior of the station and now they were closing. On the other side he could see a pair of tall men wearing T-visors. Mandalorians. Surely they weren’t the enemy despite the rumors.

One of them turned and waved, a little curtsy wave like one a royal would make to their subjects, and then the doors sealed. Sadistic, cruel. Certainly they knew what was at stack on the other side of this corridor. Certainly they as warriors would rather fight for it than let some lonesome slicer at a desk decide this. Rickard skidded to a halt, banging on the blast door, cursing under his breath. “Someone get this thing open.”

A soldier sat at the controls and pulled his datapad and began trying to slice the controls. A thin red heat line appeared in the seam of the door. “What… What is that?” Rickard asked, feeling it with his glove.

“Fusion cutter. They sealed the door the hard way.” The Major’s voice, out of breath from running retorted from the back.

“Blast it open.”

“Turadium. We ain’t blasting it open anytime soon.” As if on cue the doors behind them slid closed, locking into place. Rickard pulled his helmet off and sat down, back against the door, looking up at the ceiling contemplating what was going to happen.
Hours passed, slipping away as the platoon sat waiting for whatever was gonna happen to happen. Eventually one of the doors opened, and Vong rushed in with their weapons readied, well rested. One by one the corridors fell until there was only silence.