Ficool

Chapter 30 - Crown of Slaves 030

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The shuttle bay echoed with the sounds of combat preparations, the clang of weapons being checked and the hiss of armor seals being tested a grim counterpoint to the distant rumble of ship-to-ship fire and the occasional command echoing from the intercom. For my team and I, and the twenty Marines that would be accompanying us, ever moment wasted was another moment an enemy battlefleet grew closer to us, and I could feel the tension in us all ratcheting higher and higher as we went about our preparations.

"So we're about to assault a Republic warship to kidnap or kill a defector while a Jedi Grand Master and sixteen Republic vessels are racing to intercept us…" Mako muttered, checking her blaster charge for the third time, grimacing uncomfortably at the way the standard-issue armor she was wearing constricted movements that were typically far freer. "And here I thought that working with Braden during the Great Hunt was going to be the most dangerous job I'd ever take."

I adjusted my lightsaber on my belt, feeling its familiar weight against my hip, and double-checked two bulging grenade pouches. If I was going to be launching an assault on an enemy warship with this little back up and this little time, I was going to make prodigious use of explosives to smooth the process. "Sorry, love. You could have stayed behind, you know?"

"And leave Vriska to go in without me? Not a chance. I owe her big time, no way I'm sitting around instead of backing her to the hilt." the hacker scoffed immediately, sounding genuinely offended, though there was still a faint stain of pink on her cheeks. Tilting her head at the hulking, semi-armored form of Khem Val, she continued with a small smirk. "Besides, I feel perfectly safe with this big guy to hide behind. Given the option between shooting at the small, cute hacker girl with the tiny pistols or the two Sith and giant lizard-man trying to stab them in the face, I think I know which one the Pubs are going to go with."

"Smart thinking," Vriska murmured, adjusting her own gear with practiced efficiency. "Though I wouldn't count on Republic soldiers being that logical when there's Sith involved. They tend to panic and start shooting at anything that moves. Or use explosives. Probably both."

"That's why I'm bringing this." Yashia interjected, patting the heavy repeating blaster she'd requisitioned from the ship's armory, a pack full of spare powercells at her feet. A few feet away, two more Marines with the same weapon were talking, and between the three of them was represented the equivalent of a platoon's worth of firepower. "To make sure they're too busy keeping their heads down to aim properly or get clever."

"Don't worry, I'll be right there with you, Mako. I'll keep you safe." Kory added, checking her vibroblade and blaster and her own pouch of grenades. She wasn't as heavily armed as the others, and certainly not as dangerous, but even as barely-trained as she was, she was a Force user, and that made her potent in her own right. Of course, I'd rather she would have stayed back in my room on the Talon, but she'd refused outright to even consider it. It was the first time she had disobeyed a genuine order from me since she'd become mine, and if it hadn't been so damn heartwarming a display of devotion, love, and loyalty, I'd probably have been pretty pissed off about it. As it was, I was going to punish her harshly and then give her the sweetest aftercare in the galaxy for it. "Just wait until you see Mistress fighting. Those Republics won't know what hit them, and we'll get out of here long before that Jedi shows up."

"The real question is where and how we're going to find a single man on a thousand-foot warship that has a crew of three or four hundred sentients." one of the nearby Marines groused, and I turned my attention to him, ignoring the way he and the troopers nearest him stiffened at my attention.

"Actually, that part's fairly easy to guess, even if doing something about it will be anything but." I replied, crossing my arms as I considered our target. "If I were commanding the Brentaal Star, I'd have my high-value asset positioned near the escape pods on the far side of the ship from us. That way, if it looks like we're actually going to reach him, they can launch him to safety while the rest of the crew keeps fighting."

The Marine frowned thoughtfully. "Makes sense. Hells, I'd wait for us to get in close, launch him at the last minute to keep us coming. Then we'd be trapped on the far side of the ship from our own extraction and have nothing to show for it."

"Exactly right, Marine. Which is why we need to move fast and hit hard." I nodded to him, appreciating the tactical insight, and honestly somewhat surprised. I would have thought a trooper assigned to cargo runs would be a screw-up or an idiot, but he didn't seem like either. Interesting. "Our primary objective is to secure The General, but our secondary objective is to do it quickly enough that we can get back to our extraction point before Satele's fleet arrives. I don't know about you lot, but I'd rather not die or, worse, spend the next lifetime or two in a Republic prison camp."

"We're with you there, my lord." the Marine replied with a grim nod, his comrades murmuring their agreement. "Lieutenant Sylas briefed us on the mission parameters. We'll get you to the target and back out again, or die trying."

I eyed the small squad, sensing their determination despite the fear that hummed beneath it. These weren't elite commandos or special forces, not by any stretch of the imagination. Just regular Marines assigned to a transport vessel who suddenly found themselves thrust into a high-stakes boarding action. But their resolve was genuine, and for that they had my respect.

"Good man. What's your name, Marine?"

"Sergeant Rezkin, my lord." he answered, standing slightly straighter and Feeling a bit nervous, and I smiled at him. A real smile as well, not the smile most men would expect from catching a Sith's attention by talking out of turn.

"Well, Sergeant Rezkin, you'll be leading your squad under my command directly. I want you to organize your people into three fire teams. I'll need a team with me and mine, and the rest to guard the shuttles for exfiltration. Make sure to keep at least one of the big guns with the shuttles, but I leave the rest of the decisions on who goes where up to you. You know your men and women best, and I'll not try to pretend otherwise."

Sergeant Rezkin nodded sharply, seeming to appreciate the respect for his expertise. His troopers certainly did. "Yes, my lord. I'll have the teams organized in five minutes, and we'll be ready to launch within the same time frame, never you fear."

"Good man. Lieutenant Sylas, what's our infiltration point?" I turned my attention to the young woman who would, had things been done differently, horribly botch the engagement before being murdered by NR-02 during an attempted mutiny against the metallic beast.

"The central hanger bay will be the most direct path, my lord, though also the riskiest. Still, the Captain is confident that he can suppress their energy batteries enough to get you through, and their fighter squadrons seem oddly light. If we dedicate our own squadrons to providing cover and escort for you, we ought to be able to get you through, and we'll do our best to get you back out again."

"Very good, Lieutenant." I hummed in approval, before pausing and tilting my head thoughtfully, glancing at the shuttle that would be my strike-team's transportation. "Tell me, Lieutenant, do these shuttles have their own hyperdrives?"

"They do, my lord." Lieutenant Sylas confirmed with a nod, looking puzzled, though I could see and Snese. "Standard Imperial assault shuttles are equipped with Class 3 hyperdrives. They're not particularly fast, but functional for short jumps in an emergency and quick to spin up."

"Excellent." I smiled, the beginnings of a backup plan -one whose use I hoped wouldn't prove necessary- forming in my mind. "Have the navigational computers programmed with coordinates for the nearest Imperial outpost, and ensure the pilot knows to have them ready to go immediately if necessary. If things go sideways and we can't make it back to the Talon, we'll jump separately the moment we're airborne and clear of the Star."

"A wise precaution, Apprentice." Vriska remarked, giving me an appraising look, a gleam of approval in her ruby eyes, her lips quirking slightly in what could perhaps be called the tiniest of smiles. "Though I hope it won't come to that."

"So do I, but hope isn't a strategy and faith, even in the Force, is far from a guarantee." I turned back to the Marines. "Sergeant Rezkin, make sure your teams are aware of this little brainstorm, would you? If we give the order to evacuate directly to the outpost, there won't time for hesitation or moving slowly. It will be escape, death, or being captured, and only one of those is an acceptable result. Clear?"

"Crystal clear, my lord!" Sergeant Rezkin replied, snapping a crisp salute before fully turning his body and his attention both to his troops. "You heard the Sith, so form up and move it out! Keller, Voss, you're on heavy weapons detail for the shuttle defense. Jax, Tanner, Orlov, you're with me and the assault team."

As the sergeant barked orders and his Marines scrambled to organize themselves as ordered, I turned my attention back to my companions. Khem Val loomed largest, neither the closest nor the farthest away, arms folded across his chest as usual as he simply stared out the hanger's magnetic shield and waited. He had proven to be quite a bit more taciturn than in the game, and I had no idea if that was because he wasn't my sole 'active' companion, and thus the only person to contribute, as he might have been in the game, or if it was because of my distinctly 'non-canon' method of recruiting him. Either way, he had a startling tendency to simply disappear if attention wasn't be drawn to him one way or another. Which, I supposed, quite suited a shadow assassin.

"Eager to see how the Republic of today measures up to the Republic of old, Khem?" I asked, half-teasing and half-curious what his answer might be, though I had a reasonable guess given his general demeanor.

The Dashade turned his gaze to me, yellow eyes narrowing slightly, and he grunted something that might be either a laugh, a snort, or a scoff. It was hard to tell, given his…everything, and he waved one massive, clawed hand dismissively.

"If the Republic has weakened in step with the Sith, than I do not expect there to be anything to take measure of, little Kallig. And they must have weakened, for the likes of the the Dead Witch to still live as a Lord." he responded, tone just as dismissive as the gesture had been, as he returned his attention to the distant stars. "Nevertheless, we will see if you have the strength and the will to survive them as they are."

I didn't bother to take offense at his dismissal of Zash, not least because I happened to agree entirely, not to mention the fact that I knew her plans and therefore had absolutely no reason to 'defend her honor', save in the most necessary and performative of ways. Neither of which applied right now. And, honestly, the fact that he had dismissed her was all the better for me, since it meant he wasn't likely to betray me for Zash's sake. Which wasn't likely to happen anyway, of course, but extra layers of assurance was always nice when it came to things like this.

"Well, we'll know soon enough," I replied aloud with a shrug that was perhaps a bit more casual than I actually felt, and certainly more casual than the situation actually called for. "The Republic's certainly not the juggernaut it once was, not after everything that's happened over the last millenia or two, but I'm sure they've stepped up a bit since we returned from Wild Space. And even a single Jedi can change the course of a battle, as you well know."

"Speaking of Jedi," Vriska interjected, moving closer and lowering her voice, obviously trying not to damage morale. It was oddly sweet of her…or it was ruthlessly calculating, and even with the Force it was hard to tell which. "do you think there will be one aboard already, guarding the target?"

"Yes." I responded bluntly, running a hand through my hair as I watched the Marines file onto the shuttle. "Either a padawan or, worse, a full-fledged member of the Knight Corps. Either way, they'll be on bodyguard duty and we will have to fight them. If that happens, Khem and I will take point. I don't want the rest of you getting within arm's reach of a trained Jedi."

"What about me?" Kory asked, her eyes wide and earnest, presence in the Force anxious but resolute. "I may not be as trained as you, but I can still help against a Jedi."

I shook my head firmly and promptly, pushing aside any guilt I might have felt at the way a spike of pain went through her aura at my denial. "No. You'll stay back with the others. Your job will be to help Mako, Yashia, and Vriska clear our path of regular troops while Khem and I handle any Force-users we encounter." When she opened her mouth to protest, I fixed her with a stern look, even as I pushed my worry and my love for her down the bond we shared. "That's an order, Kory. I'm not risking you against a fully-trained Jedi. We didn't come this far for me to let someone take you from me now.

Her mouth shut with an audible click, a faint blush coloring her cheeks at the intensity of my words and the emotions flowing between us, a blush that deepened at the giggles from the other women around us. She nodded once, reluctantly, all the same.

"Yes, Mistress, I understand." she whispered, fingers tightening around the grip of her blaster, a pout creasing her lips.

"Good girl." I said softly, cupping her cheek and stroking it with my thumb for a moment, before turning to address the rest of my team. "Alright, everyone clear on the plan? We board, we move fast, we locate The General, we extract or eliminate him, and we get out before Satele and her fleet arrive. If things go sideways, the Talon jumps for Dromuund Kaas and we make our way there separately."

"Clear as Manaan seawater," Mako confirmed, though her voice betrayed her nervousness as much as her body language and presence did. "What about the ship's internal defenses? Security systems, blast doors, that sort of thing?"

"You and I will be handling bypassing those, Mako." Vriska answered for me, and I was happy to let her. Leave hacking plans to the hackers, says I. "As for active security systems, the Republic doesn't typically have internal turrets the way Imperial warships would. We might encounter crew-served weapons, but we're not likely to encounter heavy guns dropping out of the ceiling and firing on us."

"Well, that's a small relief," Mako sighed, checking her datapad one last time before securing it at her hip. "I'm much better with code than I am with dodging heavy blasters."

"Everyone aboard!" Sergeant Rezkin called, suddenly urgetn, from the shuttle's loading ramp. "Captain reports we're in position and their shields are fluctuating in our target sector. We need to launch now!"

I nodded sharply, gesturing for my team to move. "Let's go. Remember, quick and clean. No heroics unless absolutely necessary."

The shuttle's interior was cramped with all of us -my group, the Marines, and the pilot and co-pilot up front- aboard, but the trip was going to be a short one and comfort wasn't exactly much of a concern. The doors sealed with a hiss of hydraulics, and I felt the deck vibrate beneath my feet as the engines powered up.

"Launching in three... two... one..." the pilot called back, and then we were airborne, soaring for our target to try and carry out a forlorn hope with a half-baked plan, dreams, and good, old-fashioned stubborn determination as our best impetuous.

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Sev'riska'laio, Agent of Imperial Intelligence and -she knew it to be true, she had faith that it would be true, and she was determined to make it true- future Cipher, had never been particularly fond of the Sith. Oh, the Empire was well enough: pragmatic, ruthless, meritocratic to a certain degree, and when the Sith weren't involved, it could even be effecnient. All things that she, as a Chiss, appreciated. Unfortunately, the Sith were often involved, and when they showed up, everything seemed to fall apart. Baring a few exceptions, of course, such as Marr or Vowrawn, but they were few and far between and far from flawless.

But now, she was wondering if, perhaps, she should add one Vestara Khai to the list of 'acceptable Sith'.

Not because she was rather attractive, for a human, though that was certainly true. Nor because that attractiveness involved some exoticism that set her apart from other humans, though that was certainly true as well. And as intriguing as it was that she had, apparently, the genitalia of both genders, that was hardly relevant to how tolerable she was. It wasn't as if Vriska was one to be led around by her womb, as it were, nor was she so easily compromised by her lusts.

Though, from the sounds of things, indulging in a bit of lust with Vestara Khai would be a very, very enjoyable experience. The Black Talon hadn't exactly built its rooms for privacy, and Sith weren't exactly famous for their propriety to begin with, which meant that she and Mako had had front row seats -when it came to hearing things, at least- to the silver-haired young woman torturing Yashia into a series of screaming orgasms before fucking Kory unconscious. Not to mention the sounds of her toying with that little Ensign she had taken a liking to.

Mmh. It really had sounded supremely enjoyable.

But all of that was beside the point.

The point was, Khai was smart. She was smart, she seemed to be genuinely kind, she was clever, and she seemed to suffer from none of the glaring issues that the majority of her Order seemed plagued with. No, Khai was proving herself to be that rarest of creatures: a Sith who could think beyond her own power and desires. The way she'd handled Kilran had been impressive, and intriguing on a number of levels, and now she was leading this impromptu assault with a combination of simple brilliance on her part and letting those better trained than herself handle their own parts without interference.

Of course, there was also the fact that she was rather impressive in combat as well, especially for a slave fresh off of Korriban -and by the gods of old, you could have knocked her over with a feather when she'd heard that the Sith were actually training slaves to join their Order now! It told her much of where the Empire's stability stood- and poorly equipped for a fight. A thought punctuated by yet another blast of lightning and a series of explosions, as Vestara used her lightning to suppress another Republic Marine Corps defensive hardpoint while Kory used her own limited abilities with the Force to lob grenades up against the cowering defenders.

Not exactly a fair fight, in fact the ad hoc strike team had been going out of their way to 'cheat' as much as possible since arriving on the Brentaal Star, but Vriska certainly wasn't going to complain or criticize. War wasn't a time for 'playing fair', even the average soldier knew that, and as both a Chiss and a member of Intelligence she was even more familiar with that truth than most.

With the two of them taking the lead, Yashia supporting them with that repeater of hers, Mako hacking and popping off shots with her pistols, and Vriska picking off anyone particularly dangerous with her sniper rifle, the Marines in their company had been relegated predominantly to watching their backs and leaving booby-traps on side-corridors to avoid envelopments. Frankly, she was impressed and pleased with how smoothly this little group was working together.

But the raid was also going smoothly. Too smoothly, no matter how well that they were working together. They were barely encountering any enemy troops, certainly not nearly as many as the standard complement of a Thranta-class, and they'd encountered basically zero naval crew as well.

"Khai. Are we walking into a trap? Do you sense anything? We've barely fought anyone since we arrived." she asked aloud, rather more bluntly than she would be in a non-combat situation, and Vestara glanced at her for a moment with pursed lips, though she got the idea that the other woman wasn't irritated with her despite the expression.

"I don't sense an unusual amount of danger, and I'm not sensing many people either. The ship feels…empty." came the response, slow and careful, and though she lacked the ability to truly sense or wield the Force, Vriska very much had the feeling that she could see the moment Vestara reached out to the limit of her senses. The sith-in-training shook her head and barked a laugh. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think this ship is running on a skeleton crew. I think they pulled everyone that wasn't essential and a minimal security unit off to keep them from seeing our target or interacting with him."

"That…I guess that makes sense, for the sake of keeping things quiet, but what about actually protecting the guy?" Mako asked, sounding bemused, and Yashia barked a laugh.

"At a guess, the sixteen other ships from the Republic fleet, which might I remind you crippled three Harrowers, and likely their escorts as well, were considered sufficient security."

"Don't forget the Grand Master of the Jedi Order itself." Kory added dryly, chuckles running around the group as Mako pouted and looked away from the rest of them, looking very much like she would have folded her arms over her chest to complete the look if not for the need to keep her weapons ready.

"Alright, fine, I get it. So the point is, we're not going to have to fight the whole ship because the whole ship was never here to begin with. I cannot begin to describe how happy I am to hear that. So, that means we can move faster, right?" she groused, and Vestara nodded, even as she waggled her left hand in the universal 'so-so' gesture.

"Yes, because we don't have to worry about getting swarmed and overwhelmed, but I still wouldn't risk sprinting down corridors headlong. They'll probably be willing to do things that they wouldn't otherwise do aboard their own ship, if they're as depleted as they seem to be. Watch for booby-traps and let's get moving."

And move is exactly what they did, pushing through the ship faster than ever, breaking through increasingly desperate defenders until they finally breached a bulkhead door that lead them into a room large enough to hold two or three shuttles. A room that had three large generators at the back, and standing before them, hands folded on the pommel of a massive vibrosword, was an equally massive and heavily armored Mon Calamari. Seven feet tall at least, Vriska had to guess, a freak of proportions by the standards of his species, and she had little doubt he could use that blade of his to dangerous and deadly effect.

Then the situation devolved further, as a young woman, a twi'lek', wearing the robes of a Jedi stepped out from behind him, the hilt of her lightsaber in her right hand.

"I am Commander Ghulil Orso," the Mon Calamari announced, his deep voice carrying across the chamber with surprising clarity despite the metallic distortion from his helmet, sounding not the least bit disturbed or perturbed by the forces arrayed against he and his companion. "Republic Special Forces. With me is Yadira Ban of the Jedi Order. This room is as far as you go, Imperials."

Vestara stepped forward, lightsaber still unlit but ready in her hand. The rest of the group spread out, and a flicker of hand-signals from Vriska had the Marines pulling back to watch for enemy reinforcements or engage any hidden enemies.

"Commander Orso, Padawan Ban." she said, inclining her head slightly, and Vriska resisted the urge to arch an eyebrow at the seemingly genuine respect on display. "I am Vestara Khai, apprentice to Lord Zash. I assume 'The General' is behind you, the presence I sense some hundred yards away, injured?

The Jedi's eyes narrowed, her lekku twitching slightly in what even someone unfamiliar with her race would have easily recognized as agitation and mild discomfort, though which of the myriad reasons was the specific cause was impossible to tell. "You will not pass, Sith, nor your servants. The Empire has no claim on this man."

"I'd prefer to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I really would. The peace is fragile enough as it is, but my orders from Grand Moff Kilran cannot be denied, so please…" Khai replied, keeping her voice level and calm, her lightsaber still unlit, and Vriska had to wonder if she actually thought she could talk them through this situation. "Simply hand over The General, and you have my oath that we'll leave your ship and everyone else aboard it intact and unharmed. Grand Master Shan is still some time away, and I guarantee we'll be gone before she arrives. I would rather she not step aboard this ship to find the two of you dead."

The Mon Calamari commander shifted his stance, his massive vibrosword gleaming under the emergency lighting as he lifted it to rest across his shoulder as he prepared for battle. "Your concern is noted, Apprentice Khai, but misplaced. We have our orders as well, and they are clear: The General does not fall into Imperial hands under any circumstances."

"And if you think we fear death," Padawan Ban added, her voice just as steady as Vestara's despite the tension radiating from her. "you understand little of the Jedi. I am prepared to become one with the Force if that is what this moment demands."

Vestara sighed, heavily, and when she spoke next her tone had an odd, lilting quality as she clearly quoted something. "'A man does what he must -in spite of personal consequences, in spite of a obstacles and dangers and pressures- and that is the basis of all that is moral. And so you do your duty as you see it, and damn the consequences.'"

"Haha! Well spoken, Sith!" Ghulil chuckled, his amusement and approval seemingly genuine, his massive helmed head shaking ponderously. "It is a shame that you were raised amongst the Empire. With an attitude like that, raised in the Republic's light, I would have been proud to fight alongside you."

"You have my promise that if you yield, you will live." Vestara responded, finally igniting her saber and glancing at the rest of them, lowering her voice in the hopes of making sure that their imminent opponents could not overhear. "Khem, engage the Commander. Try not to kill him if you can, I will not be the one responsible for a war breaking out, nor am I interested in making a martyr. I will fight the Jedi. The rest of you, support us as you are able and make sure that Republic reinforcements don't interfere. And if you get the chance, bypass the fight entirely and make for The General."

"Understood." Vriska confirmed, already scanning the edges of the chamber for alternative routes or places that could be used as cover by either side. The rest of the group fanned out, taking up positions that would give them clear lines of fire while staying out of the way of what promised to be a devastating lightsaber duel.

For his part, Khem Val stepped forward, unlimbering his own colossal weapon and activating it, the rumbling growl of the blade's vibration filling the air as he stared across the room at his chosen opponent.

"It has been a thousand years since I last did battle with someone that proved worthy of my blade." he rasped, the syllables rolling across the room as he rolled his shoulders. "A thousand years since I last fought the slaves of the Jedi. I hope I do not leave this battle disappointed."

Commander Orso rolled his own equally massive shoulders in response, his vibrosword humming with power as he adjusted his grip. "I've never fought a Dashade before, didn't even know what you were before the ship warbook pulled the name from the footage today. Those same histories speak of your kind as formidable warriors, powerful and devastating swordsmen. I look forward to testing that reputation."

"Then test it!" Khem snarled, and launched himself forward with shocking speed for his size, a move mimicked an instant later by the Mon Cal.

The two titans collided in the center of the room with a thunderous crash that reverberated through the deck plating. Vibrosword met vibrosword in a shower of sparks, neither fighter yielding an inch in that first clash of strength against strength, which was a feat in and of itself.

Meanwhile, Vestara advanced on Padawan Ban with measured steps, her crimson blade held in a loose, ready position. The Twi'lek Jedi ignited her own weapon, a brilliant blue blade springing to life with that distinctive snap-hiss, humming as she raised it into a standard middle-guard.

"I've been training for this moment my entire life." Yadira said, her stance shifting slightly as she centered herself. "To protect the innocents of the galaxy from the Dark Side."

"I'm sure you have," Khai replied, continuing her measured approach. "But I promise you, I have no interest in killing you if it can be avoided."

There was a moment of silence and stillness between them, and they blurred into motion.

It was…incredible.

Vriska had heard the stories, of course she had. How Force users, when in combat, could move faster and more smoothly than any normal sentient. She could track them, just, and she was sure that the only reason she could was because of how relatively low-in-rank that they were. How relatively untrained and inexperienced, and she swallowed heavily in the realization that they would be so much more dangerous if given enough time. She, herself, didn't have the training and the experience to render any aid here -certainly not without risking hitting her own saber-wielding ally- and so she turned her attention to a more practicable act: getting past the fighting and finding The General.

"Marines, stay here. Make sure that no one interferes with those two and their fights. Yashia, Mako, Kory. We're going after the target." she ordered briskly, looking around at her equally-useless (at least in circumstances such as this) companions.

"Right behind you." Yashia confirmed, hefting her repeater with a grim smile amidst a chorus of acknowledgements from the marines in question. "Let's circle wide around these fights and find another way through."

Mako nodded, pulling up a schematic on her datapad. "If we circle around the far side and take a couple of maintenance corridors, we should find ourselves near the escape pods. Khai's gotta be right, he's got to be waiting there. If we move fast, they won't have time to launch him."

Kory hesitated, her eyes lingering on Vestara as the Sith apprentice exchanged a flurry of strikes with the Jedi padawan, crimson and blue blades creating a dazzling light show as they clashed. "Mistress ordered me to stay back..."

"And you are staying back, from the Jedi, which is what she was most worried about." Vriska pointed out pragmatically and truthfully. "We're going around the fight, not through it, now come on."

Kory's eyes darted between the intensifying duel and Vriska's determined face before she finally nodded. "Alright, but if she's angry, I'm definitely blaming you."

"Fair enough, fair enough." Vriska replied with the ghost of a smile, already moving toward the maintenance corridor Mako had identified. "Let's go."

The four women slipped around the edge of the chamber, giving the titanic clash between Khem Val and Commander Orso a wide berth. The Dashade and the Mon Calamari were trading blows that would have cleaved lesser beings in half, each strike reverberating through the air powerfully enough that Vriska was pretty sure her jaw was hurting and her ears were popping just from being in their proximity. Neither seemed to be gaining the upper hand, their massive frames moving with surprising grace as they circled and struck, parried and countered. If either pair noticed them leaving, which was by no means a guarantee given how intensely they were focusing, neither of them could do a damn thing about it.

Ahead of them, the maintenance corridor was dimly lit, marked with occasional warning signs about pressure seals and emergency bulkheads. Vriska took point, her rifle at the ready, while Yashia brought up the rear with her repeater. Between them, Mako kept her datapad out, directing them through the labyrinthine passages that would lead them to their target while Kory searched their surroundings as best she could with the Force itself.

"Two more junctions, then a left," Mako whispered, eyes flicking between her screen and their environment. "We should be getting close to the escape pod bay."

"I don't sense anyone between here and there, and I only sense a half-dozen people in that direction. One of them is injured, just like Mistress said. The target and one last group of guards, I assume. None of them are Jedi, so we should be fine." Kory chimed in, brow furrowed as she concentrated. "We should hurry, I sense…I'm not sure, anticipation, maybe? They're afraid, but they're also excited, looking forward to something?"

"Which means they're either about to evacuate him, or Grand Master Shan is about to arrive, or both. We need to hurry." Vriska deduced flatly, breaking into something that was only a few shades away from an outright sprint. The others matched her pace, all four women racing through the maintenance corridors as quickly as they could without throwing caution entirely to the wind. The sound of combat faded behind them, replaced by the hum of ship systems and their own rapid breathing, their booted feet pounding on the metal of the deck, and Vriska's mind raced through potential scenarios. If The General was as close to evacuation as what Kory sensed seemed to suggest, they'd have mere minutes at best.

"Last turn, girls." Mako whispered as they approached a final junction, tucking her datapad away and freeing up her hand for her second blaster. "Escape pod bay should be through the hatch at the end of this corridor. We'll probably have to blast it open, it's locked and I don't think I can access it in the time that we have."

"Explosives it is, then." Vriska nodded, reaching for a breaching charge from her belt, glad that she had thought to keep a couple of them for herself when the marines had been parsing them out. "Everyone get ready. We hit them fast and hard, we don't have time for hesitation."

As she placed the charge against the sealed hatch, Yashia took position with her repeater, bracing it against her shoulder. Kory and Mako flanked the doorway, blasters at the ready, and Vriska couldn't help but be glad to have competent people to work with, and ones not likely to stab her in the back either. Unlike that unmitigated cunt Kaliyo.

"On my mark, girls. In…" Vriska whispered, triggering the charge and stepping back. "Three... two... one..."

The explosion ripped through the hatch with a thunderous roar, blasting it inward in a shower of sparks and twisted metal. Through the smoke, rapidly dissipating as environmental systems kicked in, they could see the escape pod bay, a long, narrow chamber lined with evacuation pods on one side and control stations on the other.

At the far end stood four Republic marines in full combat gear, weapons already raised and firing, and Vriska's eyes narrowed even as she dodged at the sight of two men shuffling away behind them. One, clearly a medical staff of some kind, and the other…a fat, bald man wearing an Imperial officer's uniform.

The General. Aptly named, it seemed.

"Target identified!" Vriska shouted, diving behind a control console as blaster fire scorched the air where she'd been standing. "Republic troops between us and him, they're trying to get him to a pod!"

Yashia stepped into the doorway next, her repeater roaring to life, sending a withering stream of bolts down the narrow bay. The Republic marines scattered, diving for cover as the heavy weapon chewed into their positions. "Suppressing fire! Move up when you can!"

The group did exactly that, darting through the doorway and taking cover, three Force-assissted grenade throws shattering and scorching the deck in the bargain, and Vriska grinned as the enemy marines decided that they wanted to keep their heads down for the moment. Which gave her enough time to brace her rifle, take careful aim, wish that she had a proper sniper rifle instead of this mass-produced carbine crap, and carefully squeeze off three rounds. Only one of them hit, but the target hit the ground with a hoarse scream as it punched into his leg and exited through his kneecap. He wouldn't be going anywhere fast, now, which would give the four of them time to finish off his guards.

One of whom was already dead, it seemed, as he'd made the mistake of picking something rather less than durable for protection, which meant that Yashia's heavy gun chewed through it and his armor both before he had time to relocate. A second guard fell moments later when Kory and Mako coordinated their shots, catching him in a crossfire as he tried to move to a better position in order to avoid a similar fate as the first. His armor absorbed the first few hits, but the concentrated fire slowed him enough that it eventually found the weak points, and he collapsed with a strangled cry. Dead or dying, it didn't matter, he was out of the fight.

Two down, two to go.

"Cover me, moving up!" Vriska called, already scrambling even as she said the words. She darted from her position, keeping low as she advanced along the edge of the room. Yashia immediately obliged, her repeater thundering as she laid down another barrage of suppressing fire, forcing the remaining guards to keep their heads down. Not something she'd be able to keep up for long, she'd run the powerbank dry or melt the barrel sooner or later, but Force knew this fight being 'long' would be an unmitigated disaster.

The third guard, clearly desperate, broke cover to make a run toward The General, likely hoping to rush him to the nearest pod before they were all killed. Instead, Mako's shots caught him in the back, making him stumble and fall, leaving him unable to escape the grenade that Kory rolled up next to his sprawled form. The explosion tore him apart, sending fragments of armor and body parts scattering across the deck.

The final guard, seeing his comrades fall one by one, made a choice between continuing a fruitless fight or trying to accomplish his mission. A man of duty, he picked the later, lobbing a pair of grenades blindly in the direction of his enemies and rushing towards where the medic was trying to haul the crippled General to safety.

"Last one's making a run for it! He's going to evac the target!" Vriska shouted, shifting her aim to track them, missing with all four of the bolts she fired before he was out of her line of fire.

"I can't get a clean shot!" Yashia called back, her repeater falling silent as she tried to reposition, running into the same problem that Vriska had: they'd been spreading out to catch the guards in a crossfire, and were now horribly out of position.

Kory, acting on instinct and half-remembered lessons rather than any sort of experience-borne skill, reached out with the Force. It was clumsy, unpracticed, but fueled by desperation and the need to succeed for her Mistress. The guard stumbled as if shoved from behind, his grip on The General loosening just enough that the man tumbled forward, landing heavily on the deck with a pained cry. The guard recovered his balance quickly, and tried to turn, but the momentary delay was all the time Vriska needed to reposition and take her shots. Her rifle fired three times and the Republic marine collapsed, two bolts to his center of mass and one to the bridge of his nose.

"Secure the prisoner!" Vriska ordered, moving forward cautiously, her weapon still trained on the fallen General as the medic raised his hands in surrender.

"Don't shoot! I'm just a medic!" the man said, trembling visibly, jerking his chin towards the crimson and green emblem over his heart. "I'm unarmed!"

Yashia kept her repeater trained on him while Mako quickly patted him down, confirming his claim, and shooing him towards a corner with a firm -but kind, even gentle- instruction to sit there and stay sitting there. Meanwhile, Kory moved to The General, who had rolled over onto his back while clutching his wounded leg.

"One wrong move and I put a bolt between your eyes." she warned, but much to her-and everyone else's surprise- the old man simply chuckled through the pain.

"My dear girl, I should be very much in your debt if you did exactly that. I would much rather die quickly and die free aboard this ship than end up in Kilran's oh-so-tender grasp." he wheezed, before laughing again at the surprise he saw on every face. "Ha! He's the only man that would do something this brazen. Send a single Gage up against a Thranta, with an entire battlefleet bearing down on them? I know the man quite well, and this is entirely within his nature."

Vriska moved closer, rifle still trained on the portly man who was clearly more than just any Imperial officer, for all the fact that he hardly seemed a threat in his current condition. "You seem awfully chatty for a man bleeding out on the deck of a Republic ship. If you know Kilran so well, you must know what he has planned for you."

"Oh, I have a very good idea, yes." The General's smile was tight with pain, but his eyes remained clear and focused. "Interrogation, torture, a show trial perhaps, if he's feeling particularly vindictive. Then a very public and very unpleasant execution to send a message, streamed to the whole of the Empire I would imagine. The Butcher of Coruscant does so love his messages, and he particularly enjoys making them widespread and long-lasting."

"You're Imperial, a general! A man of power and prestige!" Yashia observed, lowering her repeater slightly as she studied him, looking bewildered and lost. "Why defect? Why risk everything to run to the Republic?"

The General's face darkened, hard and sad in equal measure. "Because I still have a conscience, my dear. Something the Empire seems determined to drive out of everyone, foreign and domestic alike. Live long enough to reach my rank, and you hear all sorts of things. The Empire is planning atrocities even by our own standards. Shields that envelop entire planets, missiles and weapons that can darken suns or trigger a supernova. Left unchecked, the galaxy will become a wasteland. But with the knowledge I can offer the Republic of their weaknesses, the Empire will not spend the resources on them. This cold war of ours will continue, and perhaps when it inevitably becomes hot once more, some of us will actually survive to see the end of it."

Vriska's expression remained neutral, but her mind raced. Planet-killing weapons and sun-darkening missiles sounded far-fetched, but if even a fraction of what this man said was true...

"Touching speech," she said dryly, proud that none of her uncertainty leaked into her voice. "But you'll forgive me if I don't immediately betray my Empire based on the words of a traitor."

"I wouldn't expect you to, no." The General replied with a grimace as he shifted his injured leg. "You're all too indoctrinated, after all, too afraid and too loyal to a dream that died long ago. I understand. I was the same, until I saw the plans with my own eyes. Until I realized that the shining queen I had dedicated my life to had become a plague-ridden whore drunk on blood."

Kory glanced nervously toward the door they'd entered through. "We need to decide what to do with him quickly. Mistress will be finishing her fight soon, and that Jedi fleet is getting closer by the minute."

"…he's too injured to take him with us. Kilran did give us permission to execute if needed. And…giving him to the Grand Moff doesn't sit right. If we shoot him here, he can't help the Republic, but he can't be tortured to death either." Mako offered reluctantly, clearly hating the words as she spoke them. She was soft, sweet, and Vriska was sure she would prefer to let the man go if it was remotely practicable. But it wasn't practicable, and she was mature enough -right now, anyway- to admit as much.

"…agreed." Vriska said, and her trigger finger flexed. The sharp report of her blaster was startling in the relative silence that had settled, and The General slumped to the deck, dead instantly with a neat, burn-edged hole in the center of his forehead. Letting out a short, sharp breath, she turned on her heel and started walking away. "Come on, we need to get out of here."

Her companions exchanged glances behind her, each of them recognizing one some level the discomfort of the blue-skinned beauty, but none commented. Instead, they followed dutifully, each of them more than eager to get back to safety and put this entire day behind them for the foreseeable future.

[1] https://www.patreon.com/c/astandupphilosopher

[2] https://discord.gg/3VKjmXBYY8

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