Private The Long Road

[Laira Darkhold]

Leo frowned slightly, but nodded his head. Laira was with someone, so unless she got into trouble no news was usually good news regarding the redhead. “She’s a big girl, but she’d rather it be her hurting than anyone else.” He responded to the bothan officer in regards to the Yuuzhan Vong, moving past him to check on the semi-conscious Yuuzhan Vong Jedi warrior. Saeza was still holding her abdomen just above her ribcage tightly, breathing weakly with a slight rasp.

Leo hadn’t known the specifics of what exactly happened to her, just remembered the chain of events while he piloted the ship. They had all three been separated at one point during their rescue operation, but eventually got back together with a group of survivors though Saeza had seemed a lot more shaken up and disturbed. Laira had run off to see about detonating the ship they were on and Saeza had resolved to hold off the alpha serpent. For whatever reason, the creature wouldn’t attack her which allowed for the civilians to escape onto the Rebel Outcast. As the countdown ticked away, Saeza’s comms went black with the last words spoken being her apologizing for not holding it off longer. Laira had run off into the ship to find the girl and when she came back, she was dragging Saeza in what appeared to be pieces. Her chest was cut open and pieces of her were trailing the redhead and there was so much blood Leo had thought Saeza had already bled out.

But she hadn’t.

With some help from a doctor they had rescued, a ton of bacta, and a few liters of blood collected from survivors, Saeza pulled through the ordeal. Unfortunately, she hadn’t taken it easy like she was supposed to.

He touched the girl’s forehead, feeling to see if she was running a fever. “The doc said four weeks of light duty.” He muttered aloud, “Sometimes you girls piss me off with your chit.” <But I wouldn’t have you any other way.> He didn’t believe she could hear him, just speaking his thoughts aloud just to do it.

~

Laira forced the door open enough for her to squeeze through and get into the base of the tower, what seemed like an old communications relay for back when the First Order needed to bounce comm signals left and right off their Biocomm stations, before those had become obsolete or compromised by the Fascist state’s downfall.

A pair of gunshots rang out from above, echoing through the air with a faint reverberation through the building. It was muffled by layers of durasteel, but

The redhead couldn’t hear the sounds of struggle above her head. The girl found a set of stairs and began hustling upwards quickly, taking a few stairs with each bound, using the railing to help her change direction without losing momentum.

A few more seconds passed by and the redhead arrived on the fifth floor, slapping the door open button to no avail. Of course the sniper had locked it just in case.

She whipped out her lightsaber, flicking the intensity up and began carving her way into the room through the door with the azure brand.

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

Elpsis could guess what Rhea would be doing when she found her. The Rattataki had found herself a quiet spot and was training with her blade. There was fury in her motions as she swung her blade, launching strikes that would have hewed any real opponent down. "Captain," she said mechanically when she sensed Elpsis approach, though she did not cease her exertions. Elpsis made sure to scan the area through the Force before speaking.
"You're not really training, you're avoiding. Fine. I guess you don't want to chit-chat. I get that. Sienn told me what happened."
"It wasn't just rebel fighters. They dragged civilians from the home. Simply because they happened to be in the wrong place...or weren't human. They lined then up and shot them," Rhea spat angrily. "Then they walked around and shot any who still breathed just to be sure."
"Like your family."
"I swore never to let this happen again. That's why I joined the Dominion - and now you."
Elpsis felt a flare of anger inside her. "You think I've gone over to them? Seriously?!"
Rhea gave her a long, hard look. "No," she said at last. "We have a plan. I get that. I still stood there and watched them die. What comfort does it bring them that their killers might be brought to justice?"
"They will be."
"And how many more massacres will we have to passively watch? Did Sienn tell you that Diona and I murdered rebels to make sure the Order could not get their hands on them?"
"No, she didn't," Elpsis said quietly - intently. She looked the Rattataki directly in the eyes. Those white orbs looked like they were bearing into her soul. "And just a couple moments ago I set rebels on fire and then gunned down the wounded. I hate myself for it, and yet I did. Someone had to get their hands dirty. Might as well be me, and not a trainee. I didn't think it would be you. That was my mistake."
"I am not like the other trainees. I got blood on my hands to please an evil man."
"You're still my responsibility." There was a pause. "I need to know you can stick with the course."
Rhea sighed. "Yes...but we will make them pay?"
"Rhea, I hate these people. My paternal was a monster like them. I was on Kaeshana when they crucified civilians. On Skor, they gassed them. On that mining station we fought on, they worked Qadiri to death and suffocated those who couldn't work anymore. Far as I'm concerned, anyone who's still with them is complicit. They had a choice, and they chose evil. They don't deserve mercy. They don't get to say 'we were just following orders'. But we must be smart about it. It's looking awfully like this is part of some larger op. We need to be in a position to take it all down."

Rhea nodded grimly. "Then so it shall be." Her yellow eyes were filled with fierce resolve. "The folder I gave you is from our man's hiding place. We don't know what's on the sheet. It looked like gibberish to me. But as Diona advised, he would not have hidden it unless it were important. May it's a code."
Elpsis nodded. She would be unable to make heads or tails of it, but Vagt, Leo or Sienn might be able to. "You two seem to be working well together."
"She is...very experienced," Rhea said awkwardly. "She gives good...advice."
"That's what bothers you, huh? The thought that you could not be good enough to lead?" Rhea's silence was telling. "I'm a twenty-something Mistress who needs to act like she has all the answers, even when she doesn't. Vagt and Nyssa are both more experienced than me. So is Diona. But what I've discovered over the last couple months is that leading ain't a one-woman show. Nothing wrong with listening to advice. There's always be someone who knows more than you about something. But make sure it's your decision."
"Yes, ma'am." Rhea sheathed her blade. "I shall see to the others. When will you be meeting with the Imperials?"
"Soon, I reckon. I can keep you away from them."
"No," the Rattataki said with fierce resolution. "I want to see my enemy in the eyes so that I know who I will be sending to Chaos."

In the meantime, the tank destroyer trio had returned to the Firemane lines. Celaena was in an unusually good mood. Blowing up Imperials seemed to be the way to her heart. She did not see Elpsis, but Vagt was on the spot, so she sauntered over to him. "The rebels ran like cowards before our onslaught, Sergeant. Sadly, our allies lost their tank. If they'd listened to our advice, maybe its crew would still be alive."
Vagt pointed at the unconscious Nuroch. "What happened to him? He injured?"
Celaena looked a bit deflated. "Oh, blacked out after invading the minds of some rebels."
"He said he just needed to be a bit closer," the Bothan muttered. "Well, put him with Saeza."
"The elf...V...what happened to her?"
"It looks like overtaxing themselves is a sport among Force-Users here," Vagt said by way of explanation. "And Private," he added in a low voice, "be a bit more subtle, will you?"
"I have no need of attention, be it adulation or bedrest, in case the question burned on anyone's tongue," Shikoba interjected.

xxx

Two gunshots had rung out. The sniper's arm was a bloody mess. Blood leaked from Zhaleh's side as she approached him cautiously. Her head hurt and her breathing was ragged. His rifle - or rather her rifle, since he had tried to steal it - had fallen from his grasp. Reaching out with the Force, she seized it with an invisible grip and pulled it out of his reach. In this moment, Laira's sword of light carved through the door. Hearing the noise, Zhaleh spun around. Seeing the fire-maned human, she relaxed. The Qadiri's helmet had a hole and her face was bloody. "You threw me," she declared accusingly.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Laira nodded, breathing heavily as she entered the room, immediately securing the weapon and then rushing to the Qadiri’s side. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll be honest… I didn’t really have time to come up with anything better. I just knew my knife probably wouldn’t block the next bolt.” If Laira could have made the jump herself, she would have without hesitation. But it hadn’t been her, it had been Zhaleh who was now wounded because they had gone after the sniper together.

Still, an injury was better than either of them dead.

“Here,” she pulled off a necklace, dropping it over the qadiri’s head so that its enchantment could begin to work on the woman. “I’m not as good as my partner, but I can help some.” All Laira could really do with Force healing was try to control the woman’s pain receptors and numb them somewhat, nothing compared to what Saeza was capable of.

The sniper groaned, bleeding still in the corner. Laira held her comlink to her face, “Red to Control, sniper neutralized. We’ve got injured, in need of medical assistance.”

Laira continued to pull out medical supplies to help Zhaleh, "Since my judgment ain't the best, you got any ideas for how to convince the Firsties to let us keep him?"

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

"I suppose there were not many options," Zhaleh said after a moment. "But you could have told me," she insisted. She did not know that Laira had a lightsabre and limited teleportation skills. Regardless, she accepted the necklace that was put around her neck. "This is nice. Feels warm," she remarked. She could feel her head hurting less. "It is enchanted with your Zari, yes? The priestesses of my people make talismans like this sometimes. But they are very rare." However, her attention was drawn back to the sniper before she could continue gushing about the amulet.

"We don't," she said softly. "We tell them he is dead. If they need a body, there are many lying around. Any of them could be him. They would not have seen his face at this distance. And after a few shots from a lightgun it would be unrecognisable." By lightgun she meant blaster. Groaning slightly, she sat down and glanced at the wounded sniper. He did not look happy in the least. In all fairness, he'd been stabbed and shot. That would make even the most forgiving soul more than a wee bit peeved. "Best move him to a different room. Less exposed. And stop the bleeding."

xxx

Elpsis had parted from Rhea when she ran into Nyssa. "Oh, there you are. How did the Pale Avenger take things?"
"As well as can be expected, I guess," Elpsis remarked. "She's not wrong, but...."
"We have a mission," Nyssa finished. "When you stand in the ashes of thousands, what does honour matter?"
"Not much," Elpsis said quietly. "She gets that. She more than anyone, knows why scum like the Firsties needs to be fought to the knife. But it's one thing to say that...another to watch someone else go through your personal hell." She sighed.
"She'll manage. She's tough," Nyssa sounded...unusually complimentary. "She'll feel better when she gets to shoot Firsties. You did what you had to do."
"Any reason you're still going on about this? Not like it bothers you." Elpsis regretted how vehement her words sounded.
"You are right. It does not. Jedi, Imperials, Rebels, 'innocent', 'guilty' - none of them matter to me. I will not lose a moment's sleep over it. But you will...and for some mind-boggling reason that matters to me."
Elpsis' mouth was open. Words burnt on her tongue. Then her comm flashed. She took the call, and heard Laira's message. "Acknowledged, sending support." She cut the connection. Presumably they had the coordinates of where Laira and Zhaleh were. "Send Shikoba over....and we may need someone for an interrogation."
"Diona," they almost said at the same time.
"Return to form for her," Nyssa remarked sarcastically. "If anyone asks questions, she can be our medic's bodyguard. You never know where rebels might be lurking."
"Tell them to be discreet about it."
"What are you going to do?"
"You know anything about deciphering codes?"
"That is a task unworthy of me."
"In other words no. So I'm going find someone who can make heads or tails of a sheet of gibberish that I totally do not have in my possession and am absolutely not withholding from our 'allies'."
"Try the Girl Scout's boytoy. He was a Death Trooper, after all. Or the Bothan."

 

[Laira Darkhold]

“If there is a next time, you can throw me.” Laira said with a slight chuckle to elevate the mood, at least in the hopes of doing such. “Not mine, my great aunt’s. She was a healer, one of the best.” Rianna Organa had been equated to legends like Master Yoda and Mace Windu before, not because of her martial skill or command of ancient knowledge, but due to her ability to mend others and aid the dying. She was also patient, like the rest of the family, a trait that had not been afforded to Laira. She took after her father in that regard.

“Sounds good to me.” Her silver eyes regarded the bleeding man in the room, “We don’t want to kill you, so if you play nice, you don’t get handed over to the Order.” Laira went to help Zhaleh up off the floor and take her down stairs now that they had secured the building. “Get your gear off and pile it on the floor, when I get back I’ll patch you up, kay. Trust me, you’d much rather we keep you.”

The sniper grunted, he did not seem pleased by the order, but he did seem to have the desire to live. And at least that was something. The redhead knew that for most, it was about survival less so than about dogma. Not every Stormtrooper was a xenophobe bent on enslaving everyone to their master’s whim, and not every deserter wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Most people wanted build a better world for their children or families, or leave a better memory. Idealistic, absolutely it was.

But ideals were what drove people to be better, if they followed the right examples.

The man finally grunted, “What does it matter, torture is torture. Either you do it with magic, or they do it with chemicals.” He jabbed a bacta injector into his arm and let it empty the syringe into his bloodstream. He could try to be stoic, but both girls would have no problem sensing the fear of death in him.

~

Saeza’s eyes blinked, she stood in a long metal corridor alone. Well… not alone. In the darkness, red emergency lights flickered occasionally but smoke distorted her vision. She could hear it, the deep rasp of a wounded creature struggling to breath.

Red blade snapped to life, two crossguard emitters bursting with energy bled off from the blade. The girl couldn’t respond, she felt her throat closing. The dark figure grasped her with an unbreakable grip in the Force, like a chain tightening around her throat.

It grunted, twisting its hand and everything hurt, her entire body felt as though it was collapsing and then it turned to black.

She blinked her eyes and she was back, the dusty old couch she had been laid upon, a few blaster holes torn through it. For a moment, the vong breathed a sigh of relief. The sound of battle had faded, and the battle seemed to be over though her body ached from her exertion. “Is anyone there?” she called weakly, sitting up and looking around, realizing she was all alone. She heard someone gurgling, the sickening snap of bones and the wet sound of meat being torn apart. “Hello?” She whispered, almost hoping there was no response as she peered over the edge of the couch.

Behind her, Laira, Leo, Elpsis, and several other Firemane soldiers lay with spider-like things wrapped around their faces, tails hugging to their throats like a constrictor. Fear filled her senses with recognition. Gold eyes searched the room, seeing the Dahomian girl she had aided gasping and clawing at her chest until it happened. The creature within burst outward, breaking sternum and splitting open her body cavity, tearing through major organs as it went. The dahomian fell into shock immediately, bleeding out in seconds.

The creature looked at her, cold void filled Saeza’s senses as it regarded her. Her chest exploded with pain, “No, no, no, not again.“ The girl screamed, looking down as her own chest began to expand outward, trying desperately to trap the creature within, “No, no,” the vong girl continued, feeling blood filling her mouth with the taste of copper, “please.” She rolled off the couch and began stumbling for the door as blood poured from her ribs, the creature inside roiling and raging against her ribcage.

The door slid open and Saeza found herself face to face with a mask, the dark silhouette from her dream. The mask opened and she could hear the hiss that haunted the silence, the gasp for air right before the serpent struck. She screamed, the sense of impending dread and utter hopelessness pouring into her mind.

Saeza jerked awake suddenly, clutching her chest to ensure it was intact. Though it ached, she didn’t feel like a serpent was clawing its way out of her. She looked around frantically, seeing Leo tending to her, “Scan my chest! Tell me it's not in there! I have to know!” She cried desperately hugging to his frame, clinging to him with all her might.

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

'We have made great strides in building an enlightened society on the foundation of Mace Windu Thought. People say that since Mace Windu Thought is accepted as the guiding light of all good-minded people of our nation, that it is inviolable to criticism. But is it really? Mace Windu Thought is scientific truth and fears no criticism. If it did, and if it could be overthrown by criticism, it would be worthless.

Winduists should fear no criticism. Quite the contrary, they need to temper and develop themselves and win new positions in the teeth of criticism and in the storm and stress of struggle. To claim that openness is antithetical to Mace Windu Thought is the height of hubris, and therein lies the corruption of the Adversary. To call it thoughtcrime is an admission of fear, and fear is the path to the dark side.

Carrying out the policy of letting a hundred flowers blossom and a hundred schools of thought contend will not weaken, but strengthen, the leading position of Mace Windu Thought. Therefore, it is only by employing the method of discussion, criticism and reasoning that we can really foster correct ideas and overcome wrong ones, and that we can really settle issues.'

Kereaza nudged Nuroch, who was deeply engrossed in the material. "I swear, that book sees more of you than I do. If it were not paper, I might be jealous," she said.
"Upstaged by paper. That's a new one," he joked, then ducked when she swung a pillow at him. "And to think that Master Vrook said I should follow your example."
"Well, you did," the Zabrak girl pointed out. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the nose. "Just not in the way he intended, but who's reading the fineprint?"
"And I did learn a lot," he affirmed. Putting the book away, he pulled her close. "Sorry for being...distracted. But it's just so...enthralling to see what I've believed for ages but would never dare voice to be put to paper. And it's being printed openly."
"So you really think it's from him? The Grandmaster." Her tone was laced with scepticism.
"'Let a hundred flowers bloom.' He said that in his last speech. Maybe this is what we've hoped would happen all this time. He was out in the countryside during the raptures. He saw how us ordinary people live outside of the Nexus bubble. Maybe he's realised that things cannot continue as they are."
"That's a lot of maybes," she pointed out, furrowing her brow. "I know how...passionate you are about this, but hear me out. Those friends I mentioned - they can get us out."
"Out?" there was a questioning look on his face.
"Away - just away. Away from the Dominon, the secret police, the terror attacks, the war."
"There's no place on Tephrike that's untouched by war."
"There's some neutral areas. I know - warlords, gangs, Guard terrorists and so on - but we could dive down. Start over. New names, new lives. We would not have to...hide anymore," she reached out to him.
Nuroch took her hand, threading their fingers together. He considered their words, then sighed. "I'd like that. For us to have a life free from terror. But if we just run...they will come after us. If they don't find us, the Sith will. And what of our people?"
"What about us?" she countered. "We cannot help anyone if we're dead. Least of all ourselves. Why do we do have to be the ones to put ourselves in the line of fire? Look, you and your comrades aren't the first to get this bright notion that you change the Dominion. What happened to them? They got crushed beneath the wheel."
"And the wheel will keep on spinning until we break it. I understand...it's daunting. But just look outside. Change is in the air, and the Old Guard is losing its grip. They still haven't recovered from the rapture. Word is that Mahtara the Despot is in ill health. The old tyrant may finally croak." A portrait of the Grand Master gazed down upon them, smiling serenely. His eyes glittered with compassion and generosity. Such a contrast to the dour, old apparatchiks and militarists who had held the Dominion's people in a vice-grip. Nuroch wanted to believe.
"You're such a dreamer."
"Maybe I am," he chuckled. "But for the first time in years, I have hope. I watched our friends - siblings - get thrown into the meat grinder and die for nothing. And I feel I owe it to them to try so that they did not die in vain. Look, can you tell your friends to wait just a bit while we look into this. Just to see whether there is anything to this movement?"
Kereaza sighed. "You're such a damn idealist. Always good for another idealistic fool crusade. But...I wouldn't have it any other way. We can stall for a bit. Couple days."
His face brightened. "Thank you...this means so much to me. I love you."
"I know. I love you too. Light help us."

"No, don't stay. Listen to her, you stupid idiot. It's a ruse. You're going to get her killed. You're going to be sent to the camps," Nuroch muttered in his sleep, becoming increasingly agitated with each moment that passed. "You're going to get her killed." Then he suddenly woke with a start, bathed in cold sweat. As his eyes shot open, he saw Saeza holding on to Leo for dear life.

"Saeza, what's wrong?" Celaena exclaimed, confused and concerned. The Eldorai had just deposited the Nautolan in the room and had been about to leave, then the Vong Jedi had had her breakdown. "You're safe. You're alright." She looked to Leo. "What's wrong with her?" Hesitantly, she reached out to the alien.

Nuroch did not know the circumstances or the reason for her reaction. She was a Vong...but above all a girl in deep pain. In this moment, he saw Kezeara, screaming as she was being dragged away to her doom, while he watched helplessly, bloodied and beaten. Acting on instinct, he reached out with the Force to gently touch her mind, sending what calming energies he could. You are safe. Don't be afraid. Listen to my voice.

xxx

The scars of battle were evident as Diona Shikoba passed through the streets. Blaster-scorched wall here, a totally destroyed building there. The streets were littered with bodies and piles of rubble. Shikoba looked unusually solemn. She came to a halt as they passed a Stormtrooper. The soldier had been badly maimed and her armour was covered in blood. She was alive - barely. Shikoba bent down, kneeling before the soldier and took her hand. She muttered some words in her native tongue. "What are you doing?" Diona asked, puzzled.
"Guiding her on her last journey," the Vashyada replied, not bothering to turn around. "'Tis time to rest. Death is not a pit; death is a door. There is another world out there," she said softly. The soldier breathed her last breath.
"She is with the First Order," Diona said accusingly. "They massacred civilians."
"I know," Shikoba said in a tone that approached flippant. "This one did not massacre anyone though. I would have seen their ghosts."
"Even so, she enabled them and served an evil system."
The Vashyada shrugged. "The spirits will judge her in the great beyond. We will all meet our allotted fate there," she glanced at Diona curiously. "I wonder, will you go there, too? You who wear the face of another. Do you inherit their soul? Or is half a soul bestowed upon a clone?"

Anger flared inside Diona. "You preach to me, and think me lesser because I am a clone? I am a sentient being like you. My template is my mother, and those who share her face are siblings I love and cherish. I have committed many wrongs and will be judged for them, but my existence is not one of them. Scorn me all you want, but I will not let you demean my sisters or my template. Do not dare belittle them."
Shikoba was taken aback by her vehemence. "I suppose we shall know when we enter the great beyond. Many ghosts congregate around you, Diona the sinner and Diona the paladin. Which will win out?"
"None of your business. You know nothing about me. Let's just get on with our task," Diona said snapped, feeling uncomfortable. The communications tower loomed ahead of them.

xxx

With a groan, Zhaleh got up, helped by Laira. The necklace aided the healing process, but it did not make magically and instantaneously make her healthy again. At the moment it kept the pain down and helped keep her from bleeding all over the place. So she needed Laira's help. She shot the wounded sniper a glance as she stepped out. He seemed none too thrilled about his situation. No one could fault him for that.

"Her Zari must have been strong," she remarked, referring to Laira's aunt. Zari was the Qadiri word for soul, but also how they referred to the Force. To them it was an inner flame the gifted could tap into, rather than an omnipresent energy field. "I sense yours is strong, too."

L Laira Darkhold

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Saeza heard the voice in her mind, an attempt to calm her. Had she been rational, she would have been grateful for the comforting hand, instead she bleated back telepathically <Get out of my head, you don’t want to see what I have seen.> It was a warning, urgency and fear laced throughout the message. Even still, Nuroch would see it there in the forefront of her mind, things she usually kept burried under layers and layers of her willpower. Sleek black shell, horrendous fangs filling its mouth, drool dripping from it. The creature almost appeared wet, and could have been biomechanical in nature. Rage coursed through its body language, pure predatory instinct such as when one stumbled upon a wounded nexu cub as its mother showed up.

But it was the bodies that were the most troubling, dozens plastered to walls all around it by some oozing substance, their chests peeled open…

And yet, the bodies writhed and screamed in her memories begging for the sweet mercy of death as the nightmare’s young crawled from them.

Leo held her tightly, “It’s alright, I got you. I don’t have a medscanner on me, hun.” She sobbed into his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I could feel its breath on my face.” She was hushed now, but still panicked, her breathing labored.

“Its gone.” Leo pet her head, stroking her hair in a soothing motion. “She had a nightmare is all, about a mission we did about a week ago, maybe ten days.” He didn’t have nightmares, they along with dreams, had been stolen from him by whatever the Empire did to his brain. It let him sleep soundly no matter what he had seen, but he had his traumas. But the Empire had taught him how to bury those long enough for them to get their use out of him. “She saw some things there when we got separated.” He wanted to tell them she was fine, that she was the strongest of the three of them, and she was in many ways, but he’d seen enough friends eat a blaster after having been through the meat-grinder. To say ‘oh she’s a trooper, she’ll be okay just give her a second’ felt like a disservice.

Still, there was a mission to see to.

~

“She was strong,” Laira responded with a nod, acting like a crutch for the Qadiri woman she helped. She'd spent some time around Qadiri and the Eldorai from time to time, so she knew some of their language. At least enough to know that Zari was analogous to the Force, though the special meaning beyond that escaped her. The girl smiled, but didn't speak on her own account. She knew she was strong in some ways, but not in the Force. There was still some growing she had left to do.

“I got some bacta and bandages for you.” She muttered, it wasn’t much just simple disposable medikets she carried. A few painkiller pills, a shot of bacta, antiseptic spray and gauze bandages. Saeza was the one that carried the real aid gear for the group, she was the one that could sap someone of their wounds like a leech to blood. Laira had already done the best she could as a healer.

“Alright, let’s get you patched up real quick,” The redhead said as they reached the bottom floor, “Once we get some stuff in you and stop the bleeding, I’ll get our friend upstairs.” Laira smiled, “Do you think he’d feel better if I kissed his boo-boos?”

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

Zhaleh furrowed her brow in confusion. She had obviously learned Basic after joining up with the humans, but many idioms and sayings still flew over her head. After a moment, she concluded the red-maned human meant something indecent. "I don't think that would be effective or appropriate," she responded. Regardless, she held still while Laira started patching her up. "You know the...Captain well?" she asked to pass the the time. It felt silly to refer to Elpsis in such a manner while they were alone, but better safe than sorry. Minor slip-ups could easily compromise a mission, regardless of whether game was sentients or beasts.

A moment or two later - giving Laira time to respond one way or another - , movement could be heard outside. Zhaleh immediately tensed, but then relaxed when Diona and Shikoba stepped in. The Vashyada gave her a look, then glanced over to Laira. "I see no one is about to die. Why was I summoned again?"
"We have a prisoner on the fifth floor," Zhaleh did not quite like her attitude.
Shikoba preened herself. "Something worth my time, I suppose."
"Has he been restrained?" Diona asked, tone all business.
"I stabbed him in the leg and shot his arm with buckshot. He is not going anywhere."
"I will see to that." Without a further word, Diona went up the stairs.

xxx

"Let me help you," the Nautolan urged her gently, trying to calm her. Then he saw. Nuroch had seen many horrible things in his short life. The closest analogy to the horrors from Saeza's dreams were the vile experiments conducted by the Vaderites. They still took him unprepared. He felt Saeza's terror - viscerally and vividly. And he saw the source of it. It was not the beasts that frightened him. They were vile, and repulsive, but not the true source of the terror. Rather it was the bodies.

Cold sweat dripped down him. He saw the bodies writhe and scream in terror and anguish. Then the nightmare's young burst out of them. The Nautolan recoiled. It was his good fortunate that he was still lying on a sofa, else he would have fallen. "I see it. You withstood it. There's...nothing inside it. I'd feel it if these...things were growing inside you."

Celaena, meanwhile, looked confused and concerned. "I see. Well, if there's anything I can...," she trailed off. Offering comfort was not something she was good at, but the gesture was there. She glanced to Nuroch. "Something up with you?"
"No, nothing," he took a deep breath.
At this moment, Elpsis burst into the room. She looked from Nuroch to the scene with Leo and Saeza. The Lieutenant was holding an ignited lightsabre in her hand, but deactivated it upon seeing that there were no enemies. Vagt was behind her, pistol in hand. "Something happen? I heard screams." She had also sensed Saeza's distress.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Laira let out a chuckle, but kept tending to the Qadiri until the question of Elpsis came up. “If you’re asking if we’ve slept together, then yes. We aren’t as close as we used to be, my fault, but I can’t say I really know her anymore. I'd like to, though.” Laira mused on the sentence in her mind, letting it wander for a moment. The redhead had known in the past Elpsis had been an example of the classical errant hero, very much a tale out of a romance novel at Laira’s first encounter with the witch. To her observations, Elpsis had hopes to earn her place among her adopted family, to help the innocent, willing to sacrifice herself for others. But now, she didn’t really know what made Elpsis anymore, her motivations, her drive, her ambitions, her goals, the inner code the girl followed.

There had still been much hidden behind veils from both of the redheads. Neither had managed to fully open up to one another before their paths had split apart, though they had begun to confide in one another. They were both different people, with past traumas and experiences that shaped who they had been that had not been shared or explained, and more recently, those that were shaping who they were now becoming.

The redhead’s smile had turned to a frown as she worked, forcing down the thoughts of herself and Elpsis as Diona and Shikoba approached the pair.

“We want him alive, and preferably not more afraid of us than the Order.” Laira interjected, looking up from the Qadiri’s wounds. “If we play our cards right, he’s a valuable asset.”

~

Saeza was calming, albeit she was still panicked, the girl’s breathing was steadying as she got better awareness of her surroundings. <They have no presence in the Force, no void like Yuuzhan Vong. They cannot be sensed.>

<I had one inside me. It grew and grew, and when I chased the creature into its nest I saw how they birthed. When I felt it coming out, I tore it out of myself. I did not survive it, not initially.> Saeza held no pride, but she had always believed everyone and everything was capable of being reasoned with in some manner. Beasts had their instincts, and even the most vile sith was not without some redeeming quality. So her experiences with the Dona Carlotta’s monster were strange. The vong had finally found a creature that’s only redeeming quality was its brutality, its single minded obsession to hunt and destroy every living thing it encountered.

There was a purity in the serpent, the lack of conscience, remorse, and of morality, the sheer hostility of the creature. Its evolutionary advantages alone made it an exceptional killer, and the Alpha she had encountered even more so. It had the instinct to protect its young, but not like a beast to a cub. There was a coldness to the relationship between the creature’s Saeza had felt, as though they tolerated one another only because it allowed them to kill more, to bring more suffering.

There was one other thing she knew about them. <They are still out there, somewhere.>

With tear stained cheeks, Saeza looked up from Leo’s chest as Elpsis burst into the room. “I am sorry for causing a disturbance. Please, do not let me distract anyone further.” She muttered, her chest aching dully.

Leo hugged her a little tighter, “I think she and Nuroch need a bit more rest. Perhaps we could move them to the shuttle to recover, Captain?” It was a suggestion, because they both did need to rest and recover from their exertion so that they would be able to assist in the next skirmish, and it would get them out of the way and somewhere relatively safe leaving the rest of them to do their job. Still, it was something Elpsis would need to agree to as the ranking officer, as losing two valuable assets had its own risks.

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

"I've been informed about this. I do not want to waste a resource against the Imperials," Diona said stoically. She did not want to torture someone...not again. But would she if she had to? She did not want to ponder the question because she knew the answer. "Stormtroopers are going from house to house. The sniper killed killed many of them?" she asked, whereupon Zhaleh nodded.
"He was dropping bodies left and right."
"Did any Stormtrooper get enough to see his face?"
The Qadiri shook her head. "I don't think so. There are no bodies in the tower."
Diona looked at Laira. "Find a corpse to present to them. Rebel, civilian - anyone in vicinity will do. It has to be a close, and someone they couldn't have seen. You and Zhaleh ambushed the sniper, he tried to flee, you killed him."
"We are thinking the same thought," Zhaleh remarked. "We should also move him to a less exposed room."

Shikoba had, meanwhile, paid the three no further mind and gone up the stairs. There she found the rebel. He had injected the bacta, but still did not look great. "Hello there, human. 'Tis my task to keep you alive," she announced. "I can do this best if you do not hinder my work. That would be unpleasant." There was no medic with a better bedside manner than the Vashyada druidess who talked to dead people. She truly sounded like she cared and would be torn up if something happened to him. Well, not really.

xxx

Frak, Nuroch thought. He wanted to say...something, but struggled to find right words. What could he say? 'It will be alright' would just demean what she had went through and what evidently still haunted her. He'd witnessed prisoners in Serene Springs hang themselves after enduring too much. You're stronger than you think...or anyone else may believe. He pulled out of her mind.

Elpsis looked at Leo and Nuroch, then at Saeza. "For the duration of the mission you're under my command, Saeza. That means I'm responsible for making sure you make it out in one piece. So whatever hurts you is my concern. Clear? Good." Her tone was serious and brooked no compromise. Hearing Leo's suggestion, she glanced towards Nuroch.

"You blacked out while doing your mind frakking thing? Be honest." Doubtless she already knew, but she wanted to hear it from him.
"Yeah. My target was...strong-willed. So I had to be in mind for the whole ride. Cel and Shikoba took care of it then." Celaena bristled a bit at 'Cel', but said nothing.
"Then you were still in it in the moment he died."
"Well...yes," he admitted reluctantly, shifting uneasily on his feet.
"Decision's made then. Both of you go to the shuttle. Get some rest," she said firmly, raising her hand as if to preempt any protests. "I need you two at full strength." Her voice was quiet, but sharp and authoritative.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Laira nodded to the former Dominion Jedi, knowing that someone had to go fetch a suitable replacement for the Sniper and Zhaleh was in no shape to be hauling around a corpse. “I think you’ll be fine if you just keep some pressure on it. We can talk about me massaging your butt once we’re done here.” She said in jest with a mischievous grin to the Qadiri, patting her gently on her unhurt shoulder as she stood from the woman and made her way out onto the street.

She needed a body relatively nearby and that hadn’t been inspected by stormtroopers yet. Sure, they were going to disfigure the body beyond normal recognition, but it would be best if she could find one without any distinguishing features. The redhead passed through a nearby building, stepping over rubble and debris. She frowned, fighting off sorrow and pity as she stepped over a weequay woman clutching her child covered in dust and duracrete pieces. In her heart, the Jedi girl begged to stop and give them a proper burial, to figure out who they had been and find a way to help any of their living loved ones, but that wasn’t possible right now. The best way she could help was by dislodging the First Order’s hold over this world and freeing the populace, and to do that, she needed someone they could talk to. And for that, they needed to keep the sniper, he was going to be their gateway into the rebel camp, if they could just keep him safe from the Order.

Laira went upstairs in the ruined apartment complex, ducking underneath fallen durasteel beams and jumping a small gap in the hallway. Passing through more rubble, Laira found what she needed, a man and a woman huddled in a damaged closet, battered by rubble and suffocated by dust and smoke. The redhead began shifting rubble, pulling it away from the pair. When she finally managed to dislodge enough stone and metal to begin removing the man’s corpse, she fished through his pockets to find any form of ID.

“Well Jalor Genvi, I’m sorry we’ve got to do this, but you can still save someone’s life.” He was an intern at the local hospital, ironic that he had spent his youth helping keep First Order Stormtroopers alive and now he would be blamed for their deaths. Still, maybe his spirit would take solace in the fact he would be helping his neighbors. Laira pulled his body out, struggling to get the dead weight of an adult male human onto her shoulders. Despite her impressive physique, lifting more one hundred fifty pounds of dead weight onto her shoulders was difficult and took some effort before she could begin making her way back, trying to avoid taking a path she could be seen on.

~

Saeza nodded her head to Elpsis, tears welling up in her eyes still. In her heart, she wanted to be strong and continue on as though she was unassailable and unwavering, but it was best that she and Nuroch rest and recover their expended Force energy. “I will help you,” the girl said to Nuroch, offering him her hand so that she could help steady him while they walked back to the shuttle.

In her mind, she continued their telepathic conversation, establishing and reinforcing the link between herself and the Nautolan while burying away her deepest thoughts. <I am a Jedi, others take shelter in the shadow I cast, I must be resolute and unfaltering or others will suffer for my failures. Laira needs me still.> It was old Jedi ideology, something she had read and taken to heart during her days as a youngling, still it was hard to deal with the horrors she had seen. Experiences and traumas seemed to blend together in the young Jedi’s life, however she had hoped that she would overcome it given time. Yet the creature still haunted her, knowing that somewhere there were others waiting to bring death to innocents and that she could do so little to stop them.

<I am sorry you had to see what I have seen. It should not be your burden to bear, you have your own.> Though the girl had not sought out or pierced into his visions, every soldier had their issues to sift through in life.

~

Leo let Saeza go, and turned his head to Elpsis, “Alright captain, wounded are being seen to, clean up is underway. What’s next?”

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

The rebel looked at the wood elf suspiciously. "So that's what it is, huh? You fix me up so that I don't die while you lot put me through 'enhanced interrogation'? I know all about the Firsties' tricks."
"I am not with your Order," Shikoba replied evenly.
"Then you're just their hired gun. At least those bastards are fightin' for somethin'. I ain't tellin' you anything."
The Vashyada stepped forward so that they were nose-to-nose. Her cold hand touched his forehead. "Your tongue is defiant. But I can see the fear swirling around you. As clearly as the ghosts of those you ended. They are being guided by the ferryman now."

She heard the thump of boots from outside. Diona was not subtle. Soon enough, the very tall, blonde warrior had stepped into the room. "Is he safe to transport?" she asked.
"Aye, but his blood is leaking," Shikoba said casually.
Diona frisked him for any hidden items, then hauled him up. "You can resist and this will get very unpleasant, or you can cooperate, and you can get out of this alive. The choice is yours," she announced as she dragged him to another room. This one had no windows.
"Like you'd let me live," he muttered. "Why the hide and seek? Don't want FOSB to get first dibs so that you can present me to the warlord as your catch?" he groaned in pain while Shikoba started tending to his injuries.

"Listen to me very clearly. Your group is being decimated. The Order has taken many prisoners. It is only a matter of time before one of them breaks and reveals your hideout. After this attack, they will be on high alert. Even if your people steal a ship, they won't be able to slip out."
"I won't be the first to rat them out, merc." His voice was pained and laboured.
"I am not with the Order. I do not wish to see them succeed."
"Tell that to my brothers you killed..."
Diona leaned forward, never breaking eye contact. "Many yet live - for now. You had an eagle's view of the battlefield. How many of our shots went anywhere?" she let that question hang.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Someone who has an interest in the Order being unseated. But know this, if you do not help me, you will die. Your comrades will die.'"
"You..." The bandage Shikoba had been using to control the bleeding on his thigh was caked with red.
"His injuries are too deep. Step aside, he has need of me," Shikoba interjected. Without waiting for or permission or indeed any sort of response, she placed a hand on his arm and another on his thigh. Though trying to appear strong, the rebel recoiled when he felt how cold her hands were. It made his hairs stand up. He felt a chill run down his spine. But that was less unnerving than the sight of Shikoba's face transforming. He found himself staring into a face that was partly normal, and partly resembled a skull stripped of flesh. One of her eyes was as bright as a blue star and burnt like ice.

"She is debating whether to reap your soul or not," she said. It was still recognisably Shikoba's voice, but unnaturally high-pitched and as cold as a snowstorm on Hoth. Even Diona looked disconcerted for a moment, before she buried this sentiment beneath layers of granite. An eldritch incantation left her lips as she called upon the spirits. Her touch was deathly cold. Necrotic energies flowed through her and crawled over him.

xxx

Elpsis fished out a datapad and somewhat dusty-looking folder. Leo would find that the latter contained a sheet filled with what, on first sight, appeared to be gibberish. "Rhea and her group found that hidden away in our infomant's place. He had a secret room, traps - the works. Firsties came knocking, so they had to bail out. They got some data from his computer before killing the harddrive, and this."

She looked at him and Vagt. "Anyway, they think it's written in code of some sort, so you two have a look at it."
"Can check it out," Vagt said with a nod towards the ex-Death Trooper. "There's that woman Nuroch and I followed. The informant Shikoba said ratted out our man?"
"You got anything actionable?"
"Followed her to her house. She's definitely working for the Firsties. Saw her hand over some kind of package. But my impression is it's not entirely willing on her part. May be getting cold feet."
"Scared her head will be on the chopping block?" Elpsis' hollow laugh had no mirth in it.
"Permission to go over and 'persuade' the canary to sing, ma'am?" Celaena interjected, sounding eager. Doubtless the thought of applying the thumbscrews to First Order collaborators pleased her.
Elpsis shook her head. "Appreciate the initiative, but no. Right now the streets will be crawling with Firsties. Even if they don't have an eye on her specifically. And we're stretched thin as is. We'll deal with her...soon. For now, make a show out of being on the watch for rebels."

xxx

Reluctantly, Nuroch stepped out. "Funny to hear words like that come from the lips of a Jedi. And a Vong at that. Not like any I've met. Maybe you should meet the Jedi I know back home. On second thought, you're better off as far away from them as possible. They are cruel and tyrannical." He was unsteady on his legs, but managed to walk out as the two departed their improvised resting place.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Saeza helped Nuroch along the road, some signs of conflict began to fade as the pair moved away from the center of the city. The rebels had made their presence known, and had likely killed a significant number of Stormtroopers based on the bodies they passed, yet it was clear they were not winning their rebellion. The First Order on this world had bodies and blood to spare and had thus far not lost anything of importance to their ability to manufacture armor, weapons, and vehicles.

The vong looked to Nuroch with kind eyes, <Then they were not Jedi. Many people have called themselves Jedi to ease their conscience, to earn respect, to intimidate, or to damage the reputation of Jedi, but these people are not truly Jedi. I am sorry you suffered at the hands of the misguided.> She smiled to the Nautolan, “Vong alone translates to bastard, unwanted child, or unclaimed. I suppose I am Jeedai Vong as it is they who want me and Yun-Yuuzhan does not. I do not mind though, my friends have called me Vongie on occasion.” The girl seemed to be smiling, detailing the aspects of her language in a joking manner, clear that she took no offense at any mistranslations.

<Tell me about your pain, so that I might repay your kindness.> The thoughts were less an order and more an offering from someone kind and polite with the desire to help. Saeza often chose the path of the Martyr and gained her own self-worth and comfort from aiding others.

~

Laira jumped across a small gap, grunting as she landed and the weight of the man she was carrying shifted on her shoulders. His body outweighed her by around forty pounds, and thus was difficult to move around unless she used the Force to strain her muscles, but such an act was taxing in its own right. Physical enhancement had its drawbacks from time to time, and Laira was a fundamentalist who preferred not to use the Force for everyday tasks. To hone her body, mind, and spirit was to find equilibrium that allowed the redhead to succeed, much like Mara Jade Skywalker had taught Jaina Solo many ages ago.

She darted across a small alley way and made her way around the back of the tower her friends were staying in, kicking in a window in order to dump the body through. “Whew, I’m gonna be sore tomorrow,” she exclaimed while rubbing her abdomen and shoulders, “Jalor here is ready to fill in for our friend upstairs.” The redhead grunted to Zhaleh, pushing the corpse through the broken window with some effort.

“We gotta fubar him up though.” Laira may have managed to keep her voice matter-of-factly, but in her heart she was sorrowful for having to desecrate the young man’s body in order for their ruse to succeed. Such an act seemed distasteful, even cruel as it would deny his loved ones closure or worse he would be identified regardless and his family outcast for having been related to a rebel.

Laira worried most about the latter, that their actions would bring pain to a family that had already lost its son or brother, and another who had lost a daughter or sister alongside him. They could only hope to act fast, to hope the First Order wasn’t scanning DNA and processing it, and to dislodge and cast off the Order before any results if they were.

~

Leo took the pad and held it where Vagt could see it over his shoulder. Vagt may not have known it, but Leo was created on Torolis, a Bothan world under the Galactic Empire during their expansion under Grand Moff-Supreme Commander-Emperor Graff. The troopers had used to use Bothan war prisoners in training exercises from time to time, the ones who didn’t submit during the Empire’s conquest over Bothan Space.

He and Laira had already found unease over that subject, given that she had several friends from Bothan space who suffered under the heel of the Empire. It was not that Leo had personally killed anyone she had known, or even that she held any disdain for what he had done in his past life. The redhead had been the only person in his life he could remember that had immediately not seen a weapon, tool, Imperial, or an enemy, but a person.

“It’s hand coded, so it will take some time to decipher it. Sometimes slicers like to translate stuff through another language then encode it in aurebesh just for that extra layer of protection.” He shuffled a little on his feet. “Do we know what world our man was from originally?”

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

Zhaleh was waiting for Laira when the red-maned sky woman returned. She had obediently kept up pressure on her wound. Cryomancy also helped a bit keep the bleeding down. She had been meditating during the brief interval, but her eyes fluttered open when she heard Laira. She winced a bit as she rose, but nonetheless walked to her and helped her push the corpse through the window. She probably did not contribute much, but it helped somewhat at least.

"Yes," she said quietly, sighing a bit. She turned the body around to look the man in the eye, getting a good look of his face. He deserved that at least before they desecrated his body. She felt a stab of guilt inside her. "I do not know what the burial rites of this world are. At home, we bury our fallen above ground. Before the funeral, the shamans wash the body and place wards on it so that the spirit is not trapped inside the flesh. The body is laid face up and then covered with stones or ice. The whole tribe attends. There is singing and the deeds of the fallen, great and small, are recited. It is custom to bury them with items that were of value to them. It is common to name a child after a great fallen so that a part of them may stay with us."

She was not even sure why she was saying any of this. Perhaps it was nerves or guilt. "I am...ready when you are. I pray that his soul finds peace, and Kashara protects his family from further harm."

xxx

'Peace' had returned to the city - the peace of a graveyard. The market that not so long ago had been filled with people was deserted, save for the soldiers who had set up roadblocks and security checkpoints. Nuroch did not want to think about how many civilians had been arrested, shot or forced to pay bribes after Stormtroopers had suddenly 'discovered' that they'd carried 'hidden weapons' or that 'snipers' had fired from their apartments.

Stormtroopers and simplistic battle droids, assisted by various hovercraft and speeders, were on patrol. Some buildings were still burning. Several lay in ruins. The scenery of devastation receded as the pair moved away from the centre, but the iron fist of the Order was never far. << Based on what I've seen, you guys have a problem with poseurs >> Nuroch snorted, then regretted it. << Sorry. Tephrike was crap all around, no matter which side you were born into. Just a matter of picking your disease. I'm happy to be off it. >>

Several of the Unchained, as the Tephriki refugees called themselves, wanted to one day go back and fight for the freedom of the oppressed. It all seemed vague and fanciful to Nuroch. Yes, it was horrible that millions still lived in bondage, but the Unchained were a small group with even fewer resources. Firemane had the means, but would not fight for them. That had been made clear when they left the planet to its fate the moment they got what they wanted.

The Republican Guard might call itself the phalanx of freedom, but it would turn around and toss them into the Dominion's or the Vaderites' old camps because they happened to be born with the Force. And who would protect those who stayed behind? Must everyone sacrifice themselves for a pipedream? He pushed these thoughts aside.

<< Mind frakked a Firsty tanker to get him to blow himself up. Did not get out before it happened. Silly thing to collapse over, really>> he said by way of explanation. There were other things, but he forced the memory his dream had brought to the surface down << It's fine. How does Vong become a Jeedai anyway?>> After being locked away in Serene Springs, he had heard of experiments to 'cure' Yuuzhan Vong from their 'curse'. Had the space Jedi done similar and succeeded? Looking at kind, gentle Saeza, he had trouble believing it.

xxx

There were healers who could cure even the most grievous of injuries within the blink of an eye without suffering any ill effects. Shikoba was not one of them. Like many of her abilities, her healing powers were a product of her connection to the realm of the dead. Zhaleh's dagger had stabbed deeply into his thigh, and cut into his femoral artery. It was a place you really did not want cut. As Necrotic energies crawled over the sniper's body, he twitched and shook, then groaned.

Her brand of healing would not hurt his body - not really - but to his mind it would still feel like ice spikes. Diona helpfully took the initiative and stuffed a rag in his mouth. Shikoba's skin had paled considerably. It looked deathly white. This had to go fast, so she had to draw upon her powers more deeply than usual to speed up the process. Her body shook. It was from the Nether that she drew her power.

Spirits had coalesced around him. They were apparitions of blood-soaked Stormtroopers. Some had been shot right through their helmet's visor, others through the chest and others again had been left to bleed out. They wailed loudly, denouncing him. Invisible to everyone but her, it looked like they were trying to pull him with them.

Despite the chill she was feeling, sweat dripped down her brow. "Not yet," she declared in that eerie voice. Their wails became louder. He is ours. He murdered his brothers and sisters. Memories that were not her own flashed through her mind. They spoke of woe and murder. << You won't have him yet. It is not for me to judge the souls, but to shepherd them. >> She breathed heavily, swaying. Her head hurt. The sniper was panting and in obvious discomfort, but he had stopped leaking blood and his wounds were closing.

xxx

Vagt took the sheet and had a glimpse, holding it an angle that would allow Leo to look. He traced a furred finger across it. On first sight, the paper was filled with gibberish? Random lines without rhyme or rhythm to them. Indeed, it seemed to be an assortment of random banalities. "Maybe invisible ink," the Bothan mused. "Or a null cipher." He looked upon hearing Leo's query. "According to the GRU file, he's from Bakura. Came here looking for job when the Firsties started developing the place."
"I''ll leave you to it," Elpsis excused herself. "Expecting a call from our 'allies' soon."

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Laira grunted, a bit cynical in her tone though she didn’t mean any accusation towards Zhaleh, “I don’t think we can bank on anybody else protecting them. When I found him he was hugging his girlfriend, or wife, or whatever. It’s going to be up to us.” Up to me, she thought internally. The redhead knew that they were gathering valuable information, maybe even necessary data against the Order before making a strike, but still. She had been playing mercenary instead of being a Jedi and because of that there had been no one to protect Jalor and his girlfriend during the raid. Maybe things would have been different, maybe she could have saved some of the civilians if she had been acting as a Jedi instead of a mercenary. There was no knowing about hypothetical pasts, but it still ached that maybe she should have done something different. Now it was up to them to make the most of the opportunity the young medical intern would be granting them, and act fast enough that no one else died because of it.

“Sorry, I’m sure he appreciates any well-wishes we can muster,” Laira’s tone was a bit more sincere and apologetic when her silver eyes shone on Zhaleh. "I know I would appreciate it."

“Let’s get the grody part over with,” She said after Zhaleh had finished with her prayers. Laira drew her blaster pistol from its holster, flicked its power setting down some from the disruptor, and hefted the man to a seated position, laying down on her back in front of him and putting her boot in his chest. She pulled the trigger once, blasting the man’s face with the high powered energy bolt. Mist and smoke wafted from the ruined remains of his skull, the smell of ozone and burning flesh drifting through the air. Laira felt a little unease in her stomach. Killing an enemy was one thing, something she did her best to do quickly, but defiling the body of a seemingly innocent person was another.

“We also need to wipe down the sniper rifle and get his fingers on it. I'll go grab it while you, um, finish up.” Not hard in the grand scheme of things, but it wasn’t something she was proud of doing, framing another man to save the culprit. The redhead rolled back to her feet and went to fetch the sniper’s weapon upstairs, taking the steps quickly until she made it, “We need his weapons and gear for our decoy.” She said to Diona as she entered the room, stopping short when she felt the coldness in the Force and saw Shikoba leaned over the injured sniper working her magicks on the poor soul. She could sense the lurking shadows over Shikoba, but little more than faint presences. The sensation was alien, unsettling.

~

“Aye,” Leo said with a grunt, reaching into his tool kit for anything they could use to reveal invisible ink if he had anything, “Hmm, I think we both might be right about Null Cipher and weird language. That,” Leo pointed to a single symbol on the top row of the page mixed in with the rest of the gibberish, “Looks like a ssi-ruuk symbol for P’w’eck but I see some nonsense on there too. I'm not fluent in ssi-ruuk so I could be mistaken. Usually there’s a key somewhere, let me look up the Ssi-ruuvi alphabet and see if we can find a pattern of those symbols showing up.”

Leo wasn’t the best slicer alive, but he had some practice with hand-encoding messages, being the one that wrote and decoded all of Laira’s Ghostwave messages. He opened up his wristlink to pull up a list of Ssi-ruuvi alphabet symbols for them to reference as the pair worked through the data.

~

<Laira has told me some about Tephrike, it does not seem like a place one would want to be raised on. She fought at Fort Purity, which is much of the reason she and Elpsis no longer get along.> Saeza didn’t go into detail about Laira’s ordeal, though she knew much of it.

<Death is difficult to endure. I do not like the sensation of one’s spirit passing through the veil either, I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to be joined with someone when it happens. You must be very strong to have suffered it from within another and only collapsed.> Gold eyes looked onward down their path, but she squeezed Nuroch a little tighter, as if trying to comfort him while they made their way out of New Horizon and towards the clearing the shuttle was currently parked in.

<I do not know how I was made, other than very conventional conception. Both my mother and father were Yuuzhan Vong that were Force-dead, I was not. They called me cursed, but luckily the Jedi took me in, even though I was dirty and unpleasant. But that is not about your pain.>

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

"Then I pray that they are reunited in the sky-heaven, or wherever a human finds eternal rest," Zhaleh responded. She looked just a bit upset at Laira's tone, though she buried it quickly. The last thing she could do was let her comrades or her clan down. After she had spoken the words to Kashara, Laira raised her lightgun. Zhaleh suppressed a wince when the beam of light blasted the man's face, leaving a hole inside it. The smell of burnt flesh invaded her nostrils, while smoke rose into the air.

Zhaleh raised her gun. It was not the act itself that bothered her. But leaving someone's loved ones uncertain about what happened to a son, a father, a brother? And potentially bringing harm to them? That troubled her greatly. One shot went for the shoulder, another for the chest. Each shot blew away flesh, further mutilating his body. She gave Laira a silent nod when the red-mane spoke.

Laira was not the only one unsettled by the scene unfolding in the room. Neither she nor Diona would see more than a lurking presence looming over Shikoba, but it felt wrong and alien. Hearing her words, Diona quickly handed over the sniper's rifle and some items. "There," she said simply. Perhaps she picked up on how troubled Laira, or maybe she simply remembered a young Padawan in the Windian Jedi Order, full of mission and idealism - before cold, hard reality had trampled upon it. "That man was dead regardless of your actions. He's the innocent casualty of a war that started long before we came."

Then she turned to their prisoner. The shadow was receding and Shikoba had slumped. "'Tis done," she said between laboured breaths.
"Tell me about your comrades. Let's start with your name," Diona ordered.
"Versio..."
"Edric." Shikoba interrupted. She frowned, then shook her head as if trying to clear her mind. "No, that was your brother. You're Gendric Versio."
"Yes," the sniper looked visibly disconcerted. "How do...?"
"Your name is a start," Diona's words were cutting. She fished a flask of water out of her backpack. She held it out, almost close enough for him to take a sip.

xxx

<<Purity? I know people who were there. Some of the Jedi I used to call friends probably died there. Others probably still wear the colours>> His words conveyed an air of resignation and melancholy. He clamped down on it.<< Firemane made a propaganda film about. The boss didn't like it. Never watched it. >>That was a considerable understatement. Nonetheless, she had had to endorse it. Nuroch had not been keen on it either.

<<I was at Serene Springs. - the camp. Till the revolt. Elpsis sort of rescued me, I suppose. Or rather she started burning the place down and we prisoners beat the guards with pickaxes. Who would've thought all those mining tools were good for casting down your oppressors. Bastards got what they deserved.>>

He mulled over Saeza's words, as the Yuuzhan Vong detailed her life story. It was certainly not what he expected. It occured to him that that he had never really...talked to a Vong before. << So you're a child your paternals who didn't want you for being different. I'm a clone, so I suppose that makes the Dominion's leaders my paternals. They didn't want me either, and the rest is history>> Children of deadbeat, cruel parents unite. He looked sheepish in response to her calling strong. He was not. He was just a survivor. Who had caused the death of someone who mattered to him. << Anyway, it's getting dark. Let's make haste to the shuttle. I don't trust these Firsties not to 'mistake' us for enemy xenos.>>

xxx

As Elpsis exited what amounted to the mercenaries' improvised command post, her comm beeped. "Captain Stone," she answered crisply.
"We have sent the rebel dogs whimpering back to their cowardly masters," Yularen declared, as if he had it personally.
"Yes, I was there - fighting. I didn't see you though." Perhaps Elpsis should have been more polite, but she was not in the mood. Besides, she was playing the role of the cynical, take-no-crap mercenary.
"Some of us are meant to charge head-first into combat, others to lead and see the big picture," the secret police official retorted. "I believe we have a good division of labour."
"We wiped out their rearguard and cleared out snipers. I say we more than earned our paycheque."
"Yes, your contribution will not be...forgotten. Pity about that tank. It exploded not far from where your positions."
Elpsis wondered whether this was a bait. "Positions that were, as I'm sure the Stormtroopers we helped can confirm, under heavy enemy fire. I daresay all the rebel corpses we left in our wake send in a clear message."
"Don't get complacent. We will deliver a heavy blow that will shatter the rebels. You wouldn't happen to have any captives?"
"'fraid not. None of them would surrender, and when they started to run, we figured it was better to make sure they can't scurry back to their holes."

xxx

Vagt studied the strange symbol Leo had pointed out, and gave him a curt nod. Bothans were commonly stereotyped as spies - or shady politicians. One wondered how Bothans could be super effective spies if anyone suspected them of being spies. In any event, Vagt was neither, but he had picked up some slicing skills. "Just a matter of finding the key." His furred finger traced a line beneath the symbol. "See the faded ring right at the bottom? I think that's the Cosmic Balance sign."

 

[Laira Darkhold]

<I have not seen this film, but I do not like propaganda.> Saeza frowned. She did not mind the occasional recruitment pinup, or poster for war bonds, donations, or the like the Resistance occasionally did. Even Laira was on a poster in the pilot's area. 'Our Guns are Red Hot' was posted on her sitting on the wing of an X-Wing flexing her arms.

However, the Resistance was not without its own propaganda organizations usually spread to those within the realms of their enemies to disperse information that would otherwise be controlled or never released to the public. Sith atrocities, death camps they operated, mass enslavement and alchemical alterations they participated in. Saeza knew it was important to ensure their enemies did not get to do these things and act as though they maintained a sense of moral high ground over others.

Even still, the Resistance news did not like to use words like ‘collateral’ and ‘civilian casualties’ when reporting on the effectiveness of its operations, often replaced with ‘other deaths’ when reported on the Solemn Purpose. Such losses were understandable given the nature of the enemy, but would erode the public’s resolve.

<I have not heard of Serene Springs. I have not been told of this camp, if you would like to, I would listen.> But Saeza knew of them well enough. The One Sith had them in years past, especially for soft and timid Shamed Ones. The Republic’s return to Alderaan and the resurgence of the Monarchy had led to reservations, which while intended to be peaceful and prosperous was not always the case. She had grown up underground in what amounted to a slave mine operated by the Hrosha-Gul until the Jedi found her. The sun was beginning to set, shadows extending out from the trees as the pair moved through the temperate woods to the clearing where the shuttle was waiting for them.

<You seem to be a good being, Nuroch.> Saeza said telepathically as they saw the ship looming before them. <I like you.>

~

Leo grunted, scanning the document in the cosmic sequence while glancing at his wrist pad’s projection of the ssi-ruuvi language. One, one, two, three, five. Some jerks were paranoid with their encryption, taking the time to place it in multiple layers. Some, like RESINT, liked to false-positive their encryption so that if decoded wrong the message was still readable and included what appeared to be real data, but was purposely falsified. This man seemed to have a favor for hiding something in an obscure language he happened to know.

“Hmm, ‘One P’w’eck of,’ are the first three words. P’w’eck also seems to correlate to slave or servant according to Galaxipedia. Um… the fourth word is ‘two’. What do you think?” Leo wasn’t exactly an expert of Ssi-ruuk information, only a handful of reports sent by the First Order when it was fragmented by the space lizards unceremoniously.

~

Laira claimed the items carefully, pulling out a disinfectant wipe to rub the weapon down to remove fingerprints from it quickly. That would keep it from normal inspection, and they could only hope the First Order would be lazy in processing the weapon as a professional would likely be able to detect that it was cleaned recently. “Thanks.”

She stopped to look at Diona with silver eyes, as though realizing the irony of the the former Jedi Inquisitor trying to cheer up the current Jedi peacekeeper. “Thanks for that too, we’re here to make a difference. All that starts with one, one person we help and save will lead to another, and then another.” Then the chain reaction starts and there are more people free than there are oppressed. “Eventually we have to draw a line in the sand and say no more. I’m just sorry it couldn’t have been before Jalor downstairs.” It was idealism, but for the Jedi they were supposed to represent ideals and temper them with purpose, to make the seemingly impossible a reality when they could and to make a difference wherever they went.

A good Jedi can perform actual miracles, even without the Force.

“Zhaleh and I will get him prepped downstairs, Firsties are closing in and Gendric here needs to disappear and end up somewhere safe. I’m thinking of rendezvous back at the shuttle?”

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

Nuroch was used to propaganda. He had been bombarded with it throughout the Dominion. Indeed, he had been moulded by it during his time in the tank. After all, his makers had also tailored his flash memories. All media outlets were controlled by the Ministry of Enlightenment. Every good citizen wore a lapel bearing the Grandmaster's face.

Said face also gazed down upon citizens from propaganda posters placed on every public building. Grand parades were staged at regular intervals, reminding citizens of the might of the Dominion. Propaganda broadcasts kept them abreast of the depravity of their enemies - the xenos death camps and alchemical alterations in Vaderite territory, the massacres of Force-Sensitives at the hands of the Republican Guard etc. And the horrible thing about it was that a lot of was true...except that not a word was lost about the Dominion's crimes.

Battlemaster Mahtara was a hero for 'purifying' Palmyara by dropping a Force nuke on it, and Grand Inquisitor Antonius had 'eradicated' crime and 'cleansed up the streets' of Harmony. In some ways, Firemane was not that different. There were, as far as he knew, no camps and people could go as they pleased. But they did their best to glorify themselves and Kerrigan.

Nuroch felt a bit taken aback, then smiled thinly. <<Thanks. I, um, like you too.>> He looked a bit sheepish for a moment. <<Serene Spring...it's...or was, I guess, a brainwashing camp. Everyone in the Dominion knows they exist, but they don't talk about them. You go there if you're a Jedi who's faith has been found wanting, you deserted because you didn't want to be thrown into a meat grinder or were just denounced because a bigwig doesn't like you. Sometimes it's so simple as being a clone whose template was purged.>>

They were slowly leaving the town behind them. The forests loomed ahead of them. <<Most just waste away doing hard labour till they keel over. Some are...released, eventually. Then you're one of the 'Redeemed'. Except it's not really you. The Inquisitors...they do things to your mind to change your memories and your very identity. Sometimes even your name goes. These are the ones who get to smile for the cameras when the government sends its pet journalists to report about how 'generous' it is.>>

xxx

Diona did not believe in miracles. It had all been so simple at the start: the road she had to take, and the decisions she had to make. Then the darkness had swallowed her. No, that was too easy. It placed the responsibility on on some ethereal force rather than herself. She had been moulded and used, but she had chosen her path.

She had pulled the trigger on those peasants. She had tortured those prisoners, or stood by and facilitated it. No amount of good deeds would change that fact. But she would not succumb to self-pity. The young Jedi clearly believed what she said and wanted to live up her ideals. You'll destroy yourself that way, though I hope you prove me wrong, Diona sought with an air of world-weariness common to someone who had believed and been burnt for it.

In any event, there was no time for such musings. The young Jedi spoke up, just as Gendric took a sip from her flask. Diona gave her a curt nod, signalling affirmation. "He's safe to transport?" she asked Shikoba.
"My craft is beyond doubt," the Vashyada said a bit indignantly. "He is."
"Gendric, you're part of our team and were injured by the sniper. Jaina and Zhaleh killed him. We're taking you to our shuttle. Understood?"
"Yes," he groaned. Doubtless he realised what unpleasant fate awaited him if he did not play his part. The First Order was known for being forgiving at the best of times. Without a further word, Diona helped him up. Outside, Stormtroopers were closing in on on the tower.

xxx

Vagt briefly reflected on the fact that their informant had had a sense of humour, as he had picked a language that was bound to trigger any First Order loyalist who came across the sheet. After all, the space lizards had supposedly crushed the First Imperial Fleet and sacked Dosuum. For some reason. His knowledge of the Ssi-ruuk was sparse, but he did not recall them ever being a power of significance.

Perhaps it was simply a comforting story the Firsties' propagandists had come up with, because admitting that their own purges and rotten foundation had undone them was not palatable. Regardless, he studied the document in a similar manner to Leo, checking with his translation device. His fur rippled slightly. "'Two'...," he paused, scratching the fur covering his chin, "Cara...no, that's not right, 'Keeramaaks'. Wait a moment," he browsed a bit, as he used the most rigorous online research to find out what that meant. "Seems to be a title for a Ssi-Ruu monarch or religious figure."

He read on. "The fourth word is 'a' and the fifth is 'come...', I can't write the last two letters but I'll hazard a guess and say the fifth word is 'comedy'." Typing in a 'slave of two Keeramaks' gave him nothing, but he stumbled upon something almost the same. "It's the title of a play."

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Leo grunted, taking a seat and scanning Galaxypedia and the holonet for copies of the play in question. There was humor about it, the play was partially Ssi-ruuvi and partially Bakuran comedy. “Well our man had a sense of humor. Firsties likely wouldn’t recognize Ssi-ruuvi mixed in with all those other symbols, and this comedy is about a P’w’eck trying to be a servant of the Bakuran Prime Minister and the Keeramaak of the Ssi-ruuk at the same time, described as hilarious by local critics.” A wonder that a species defeated by a single planet and a handful of Jedi twice in a row brought down the tattered rags of the First Order’s federal government.

“I can’t make out any sense from most of the symbols. There is some spare ssi-ruuvi littered throughout, not in the right sequence, looks like some huttese, and a bunch of nonsense I can’t find on the holonet. Maybe the title of the play is the encryption key to translate it?” He asked the Bothan, tinkering with his wrist-link. Usually things like this took time, trial, and error unless the recipient knew what to look for.

The First Order would have dumped it into a decryption machine which would have tried to translate each symbol, rearrange them, null cipher them, look for patterns and the like. But usually, the machines weren’t smart enough to dual or triple layer encrypt messages, hiding keys in the messages like this. The Resistance did similar with their Ghostwave text messages, and so far RESINT hadn’t detected any breaches in security.

“Any other ssi-ruuvi in the right order?” He asked the bothan.

~

<That sounds most unsettling. When I trick animals and biots, it always feels rather mischievous even if it is for the best. I cannot imagine the logic or reason of the type of person who would do such a thing to another being, to steal their memories.> Saeza knew the type, Sith usually, the more diabolical ones who took pleasure in the breaking of wills and beings.

<Hopefully, we can help those still trapped there one day and show them what it really means to be a Jedi.> The vong girl had hope, but knew such an ordeal would be time consuming and costly. The Dominion had a great number of Force Users in its ranks and the Resistance had far too few Jedi among them. And the Dominion was not the only threat that resided on that planet.

Unfortunately, her thoughts still dwelled on her nightmare, the mask she had seen in the place of the creature. What did such a vision mean?

~

“I’ll catch up with yall with Zhaleh in a bit.” Laira called over her shoulder, rushing down the stairs again with the gear in tow. The Stormtroopers were beginning to kick open doors on this very block, dragging civilians out and scanning them for identification and blaster-residue left from holding a weapon while it fired. No doubt if they found any culprits they would arrest them for questioning.

“Alright Zhaleh, almost ready to go.” The redhead muttered under her breath, pressing the rifle into the ruined corpse’s hands several times, careful to use gloves while she held it. She adjusted his grip, made sure to touch the gas canister and powercell to his fingers as well so that his prints would end up on it. Luckily, he would be covered in the plasma-ionization the stormtroopers were looking for since he had been shot a moment ago. The disgust she had in the task was pushed to the back of her mind in exchange for urgency. She could hear Stormtroopers and feel them moving around in the Force, a group of them making their way carefully to the tower.

Laira completed her task and kicked the weapon away from the body, leaning over Zhaleh, adjusting herself by brushing her hair behind her ear and straightening her top.

There was a loud, forceful knock on the door. “Open up!” the voice through the annunciators all sounded the same.

“Thunder, lightning, flash, whatever other words you guys use for friendlies!” Laira called back, smashing the open button the door for the squad of Stormtroopers, they began filing in. “Be careful, we’ve got wounded here. Allies only.”

Elpsis Kerrigan

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

L Laira Darkhold

Don't make my mistakes, Nuroch thought, though he kept it obscured from the meld. He had seen the devastation the Vong had wreaked on his homeworld...yet it seemed Saeza's failing was that she cared too much about others. <<It's a pipedream. You'd be going to war whole planet. The people down there - they wouldn't cheer when someone comes down from the sky to liberate them. They'd fight. Firemane could have done it maybe, but they left the moment they got what they wanted. They rescued us by accident.>>

It was an uncomfortable fact, but rescuing the prisoners had been a byproduct of Firemane's campaign, not its intent. Firemane troops had hit the Liberation Education Centre and Serene Springs to rescue the boss' daughter, not for humanitarian reasons. The Unchained just happened to be at the right spot at the right time and had managed to stay alive. Nuroch understood that. He did not like it, but he did not rail about it like some of his comrades. He had escaped the pit.

He shrugged. Tephrike had been at war with itself for centuries, and he doubted that would change. The most messed-up thing about the whole conflict was that the Dominion was not even the worst government. At least Firemane had obliged them by cutting off the head of the Vaderite serpent, but he was certain it would regrow soon, if it had not already.

<<Anyway, enough about Tephrike. You seem, um, unsettled. Is this about...the beasts you fought?>> Lacking context, it seemed the most logical assumption to him. There was no judgement in his tone, conveyed through the telepathic connection.

xxx

By the time Laira came down, Stormtroopers were about ready to kick in the door. Zhaleh gave her a simple nod of affirmation. Then there was a loud knock on the door, accompanied by an imperious 'Open up!' It always disconcerted the young Qadiri just a bit that these helmets and modulated electronic speakers made the soldiers sound all the same. She knew they were people, but it was like they vanished beneath the armour and became like those metal golems the sky people used.

"Flash!" Laira opened the door and the Stormtroopers began filing in. "You three, you go up and secure the comms room. Wait for the techs there and let no one in," a Stormtrooper NCO ordered. She was female, but her voice did not sound that different. Then the Stormtrooper shot the corpse a disdainful look. "You got the bastard?"
"This is the sniper, yes," Zhaleh confirmed. "He tried to run when I came through the window. Jaina and I pursued him. Now he won't trouble you any further. Or us. One of our friends was injured."
"Shame we didn't have the pleasure of doing him in ourselves, but good riddance. We're taking the body. Let's see what forensics can dig up."

Noise could be heard coming from up the stairs as Diona and Shikoba descended it with the wounded sniper. Diona was helping him walk and had given him her helmet. He stiffened the moment he saw the Stormtroopers.
"Your wounded man?"
"Yes," Diona said firmly. "He needs further medical care."
"I was at the cantina. Don't remember seeing him there," one Stormtrooper chimed in.
"And I was not there either, but I assisted your comrades at the market when the terrorist struck," Diona pointed out. "He was guarding our shuttle."
The NCO waved it off. "We've got good medics, can patch him up in no-time." Was this a sincere offer or a way to fish information while one of 'their own' was out of their care?
Either way, Diona shook her head. "We have this covered."

xxx

You knew you had fallen far when a story about being beaten by isolationist space dinosaurs that had never accomplished anything worthy of note was the more palatable narrative. "Maybe. Perhaps also the act and scene." He kept on reading. "A lot of it is nonsense. There's even some Twi'leki thrown in," he pointed at a paragraph that seemed to be a eclectic mishmash of Huttese, Twi'leki and ungrammatical Ssi-Ruuvi. "This is more intelligible. Looks like a song." He read slowly. 'You seem to think that any fool can take an oar in hand.'"