"I hope everyone had time to shit themselves, boys and girls?" Slamming a Tibanna battery into the blaster with a click, I cracked my neck, then without waiting for an answer, kicked open the door from the guardhouse, the only stronghold of our forces in the breakthrough sector. "Let's go, dammit! Helldivers never die!"
A soldier walking nearby fell with a couple of spears stuck in his body; the Helldiver's cracked helmet turned incredulously toward me before the soldier fell face-down.
Leveling my blaster, I opened a hurricane of fire along with the others, sweeping away the first ranks of Korunnai. The density of the lasers was such that some of the savages' bodies fell apart and caught fire, while others fell charred from the walls.
Several detonators flew deep into the enemy formation. Flashes of explosions scattered the already dead bodies of the Korunnai while we continued to run forward, breaking through the enemy line. The blaster's barrel darted in different directions, only just managing to target the waves of approaching enemies.
"Sam, I've sent a couple of Eagles to you; they'll be on position in a minute..."
the beautiful voice of my lovely deputy warmed a soldier's heart. Sending another savage flying with a kick, I watched the flailing body with a glance before returning to the fray.
To the left, Sula's beam-emitter was working. The formidable weapon sent dense globs of plasma into the unarmored ranks of the enemy. Around the Mandalorian, his henchmen stood firm, hitting single but dangerous targets with precise and accurate shots.
With a well-aimed shot, I killed a winding-up slinger, and a poisonous mucous bomb fell in the rear of the natives, filling the area with wild screams. Acid splashed in all directions, melting part of the wall. Streams of metal mixed with corpses, dragging them down.
"Commander, this is Eagle-3, moving to target, I don't see the beacon."
The wrist-mounted PDA opened with a light flick of the wrist; the blaster was clamped between my knees while I methodically punched in the code and the signal for the strafing run weapon selection. A simple combination, a couple of seconds without movement, and a red glowing ball flew into the distance, hitting the forehead of a massive Korunnai with a huge mace.
The big man roared and raged, then picked up the object that had hit him and grinned demonstratively, as if to say that such a thing was not enough to kill him.
My middle finger was the last thing he saw. Jumping aside, I covered my head with my hands, and four Mandalorians fell parallel to me, swearing in every way possible.
The roar of engines and the whistle of sliced air rushed over our heads. A soft pop, like a party toy...
And then, hundreds of small explosions erupted on the top of the ruined wall. The cluster bomb scattered into thousands of small charges, which, after detonation, covered everything with hundreds of small metal balls.
It was disgusting even to look at.
"Oh, spirits of the ancestors, at least step aside! You puked right into his belly, mother of yours." Pulling the helmet off his head, one of Sula's Mandalorians began to vomit right onto someone's broken body. At my questioning look, which was easily readable even through the dented helmet, Arkam shrugged bashfully. "Young, but perceptive."
"Ha-ha, mama bird fed the chick," one of the soldiers began to mock his comrade, joined by the last of the Mandalorians, while Sula and I exchanged silent glances. "Come on, little chick, eat up."
Squatting down, the Mando tugged the dead Korunnai's arm, making the stomach open even wider.
"Damn, it got on my visor." Wiping drops of blood from his face, one of the Mandalorians laughed infectiously. "Whoa, man."
"So, why the hell did you start touching him?" The second wasn't far behind, clutching his stomach and venting his nerves through jokes as he punched the first in the shoulder. "He's covered in puke and blood..."
"End your intellectual duel; we still have work to do." My commanding shout made all three straighten up, even the lad who was still vomiting. "We'll discuss this later..."
With a meaningful glance at Arkam, I turned away and activated my jetpack again, flying toward the next target. The cleared section was to be occupied by Second Echelon fighters and Helldivers from the reserve, but work awaited us further on.
What I didn't see was Sula's frenzied face as he turned his head toward his subordinates with the creak of a rusty mechanism, making them break into a sweat.
***
"Come on, darling." The barrel of the large laser rifle slowly drifted to the side; a quiet female whisper, which only a fool could find tender, rang out in the silence of the ruined tower of the planetary administration building. "That's it."
In the dim shelter, which offered a magnificent view of the enemy positions, she stared quietly into the lenses of her scope. An incredible calm washed over her as she pressed her finger to the trigger of her laser rifle.
The textured grip pleasantly tickled her fingers, and the cold steel of the buttstock burned her cheek, delivering a pleasure full of suggestive hints.
With every shot, a haze of envy and delight filled her heart—this sensation of power, when she decided who would remain in this world and who would leave forever, was indescribably attractive.
Once upon a time, it seemed in a past life, she could decide nothing. She couldn't even speak when she wanted or just sit quietly in a corner, but not now...
Shot. A laser bolt pierced the head of another savage adorned with ritual decorations. The howling Korunnai had been shouting something and was already preparing to slit the throat of a militiaman kneeling before him...
But now his head decorated a dozen stunned faces, who vainly tried to hide further away, hoping that her clear gaze and sky-blue glasses would not find them.
"Lovely little birds, so noisy and so restless," Miranda licked her lips, cracked her fingers, and taking a breath, took a new shot. The heavy laser rifle, a personal gift from the Commander and his Jawa friend, burned through the thin doors of a downed speeder without problem, atomizing the chest of another tribesman.
Her lips curled quietly into a smile as she watched the enemy fall, realizing: she was the one controlling the moment of his death.
The sounds of war—piercing screams, thundering shots, the groans of the wounded—were a symphony to her. The roaring turbines of the fighters overhead. The creaks of the heavy walkers' servomotors, shaking the buildings with their stride. The steady hum of heavy machinery rushing through the city to the soldiers' aid...
She delighted in comparing them to the melodies she once liked, but now these sounds filled her with far greater passion. Once, as a slave, she dreamed of listening to music, cherished foolish hopes that she could create only by playing for a crowd...
But now she adored different melodies. Even if they weren't the panicked screams of whimpering slavers, since Sam said they were our enemies... Miranda would kill them all. Every single one.
Every pull of the trigger brought her pleasure, akin to a musician finding inspiration in their notes. She felt like part of some great game where her place was at the top, with her rifle, her "sword."
"I wonder how he's doing?"
Amidst all this bustle, despair, and the cold of war, her thoughts often returned to the Commander. He was her savior, who had pulled her out of the darkness and previously unbearable slavery.
His confidence, charisma, and dedication to the cause made her heart skip a beat. In his presence, she felt simultaneously helpless and full of strength—his loyalty, his resolve became for her not only a support but an object of admiration, slipping into her most secret dreams.
She often imagined how they were together, in the thick of battle, in the middle of a bloody fight carrying the tenets of Holy Liberty to the bastards and scum who considered themselves above her, how they shared thoughts and dreams, planning a new raid on the Hutt Cartels...
These fantasies, full of an incomprehensible closeness, far more intimate, mysterious, and pleasant than the vulgar contact of physical bodies, sometimes led her far from reality, but ultimately returned her to the present, where the cold, ruthless reality was part of her life.
A beautiful new life.
Every battle, every opposing soul became a catalyst for her imagination, where the main theme always remained the one who saved her. She couldn't help but think about how much he impressed her—the confident commands, the ability to turn order into chaos, and that mysterious smile that appeared when he was satisfied with her work.
"Cunning, cunning Sam..." Whispering the boss's name aloud, Miranda felt a spiritual lift. "No wonder the deputy looks you in the mouth."
Snickering, Miranda moved her rifle further, looking for the little birds hidden from the greedy gaze of the "spider."
And there again was an enemy in the crosshairs, unaware that the only barrier between them was the thin line of her whim. A heady, cruel, and treacherous feeling, a boundary that must not be crossed if she did not want to become what she had sworn to exterminate.
She looked at this victim with burning desire and at that moment felt a new stream of strange thoughts trying to penetrate her head.
"Ah, how untimely." A laser beam vaporized the shoulder of one and pierced the stomach of a second Korunnai, felling both to the ground. "Two for the price of one... Wonderful."
"Miranda, need your help on the eastern side," the voice of the recently remembered Somnia rang in her ear. Always so serious, so strong and strong-willed. The former slave admired the girl in her soul and sincerely wished her happiness, but sometimes her actions as deputy drove her wildly crazy. Especially the almost childish behavior in matters of sexual relations. Once again making a mental note to talk to Somnia about it, just between us girls, Miranda clicked a conventional signal into the microphone. "Excellent. I'll send a couple of squads to support you... just try to make sure at least someone from the local militia survives, because they don't grow on trees for me... unlike these guys."
Grunting at the deputy's words, Mira pulled the trigger again, killing the last Korunnai in the square. Ignoring the rejoicing Balawai prisoners, the Twi'lek began to pack up to leave the position.
"As if it changes anything. We'll slaughter them all."
With a swaying gait, Miranda left the ruined tower. Smiling lightly, frightening all the soldiers she met to the point of trembling, the girl enjoyed the reaction to her appearance.
****
When Mace Windu left his ship, he was full of hope, but that optimism quickly faded under the weight of what he saw.
Haruun Kal, a dangerous planet. A distant homeland that never sleeps. This cruel world, nurturing some of the best warriors in the galaxy, full of lush greenery and life, appeared before him in a completely different light.
Advancing through familiar but now distorted landscapes, he noticed how the jungles, which used to teem with life, had turned into a dead wasteland, scorched beyond recognition.
Charred wood crunched under his feet, covering his Jedi robes with soot with every new step. The scent of burning and death hung in the air, and the dark emanations from the death of so many, albeit weak, Force-sensitives at once...
A stupor hung everywhere; it crept under the cerebral cortex, whispering horrors and fears that tormented the heart of the young Jedi.
With every minute, he sank deeper into this post-apocalyptic scene, where the sound of his footsteps echoed among the charred trees and fallen trunks. His heart froze in his chest. With every second, with every atrocity seen, it beat slower and slower—filling with the cruel and grim energy of the Dark Side.
Memories of childhood games with kin, of family holidays and ceremonies, of the wisdom of the elders—all of this now seemed out of place. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a crackle and a rustle, but it was not a sign of life; it was only a harbinger of an abandoned fate.
Memories of a distant childhood flashed before his eyes like a kaleidoscope, forcing the stern man to shed unbidden tears. The rays of light in his strong-willed soul went out one by one, as if a white canvas were being burned by a black fire that spread further with every moment.
When he reached the place that was once the heart of his clan, he was overwhelmed by waves of grief and rage. The temple of the ancestors, built with such difficulty, with solemn rituals and songs, was destroyed, the walls were burned, and the holy banners that once proudly fluttered in the wind now lay on the ground in the dust. Looking at this devastation, Mace felt a lump rise in his throat as depression seized him.
Waves of the Dark Side of the Force swirled around him. Like a wild and cunning beast, this cursed energy whispered in his ear, coaxing him to accept its cursed gift.
He slowly circled the Ghosh's campsite, trying to find any evidence that his people had survived this horror. But there were only charred remains all around. Mutilated skeletons, blackened to the darkness of space. The gaping jaws of skulls looked accusingly straight into his soul, cursing him and demanding answers.
Signs of battle were visible everywhere: the remnants of shields made from the tough hide of Akk dogs and grass-trekkers, shards of weapons...
And even screams that seemed to echo from his memory. The Force surged with agitation, sending him gruesome images of how his loved ones died, how death had relentlessly swept through the Ghosh, sparing no one.
Clutching his heart, Mace fell to his knees, finally staining his white attire. Smog and ash settled on his shoulders, kicked up by the turbulence of the sides of the Force struggling for the soul of a powerful gifted one.
Minutes stretched on endlessly, each moment seeming like an eternity, while two opposites of himself fought within Windu's mind.
The charred ruins were illuminated by a violet light. The bright flash of a lightsaber, bursting into the world of Haruun Kal with a hum, was answered by a few scavenger birds.
Loudly flapping their wings, these gluttonous creatures took flight from the branches, flying away to a place known only to them.
Clenching his teeth tightly, Mace gripped the hilt of his lightsaber until it hurt. Merging his mind with the crystal inside it, he fought the temptations and fury of the Dark, evading the dogmatic rays of Light calling for him to leave everything in the past.
Minutes passed, and the rising storm of the Force began to subside. Tension left the man's body, smoothing the creases on his forehead.
Deactivating the saber, Mace looked around one last time with a weary gaze, trying to preserve in his memory only that distant image from his childhood...
Despite the bitterness and pain, the Jedi took a deep breath, trying to find strength within himself. The realization that his people might have been ready to fight for their freedom, for their homeland, for their ideals, returned his resolve.
Mace had always known that these jungles, full of dangers and predators, could bring pain, but he hadn't even wanted to consider how deep a sorrow he was capable of experiencing.
Now Windu understood that his mission lay not only in saving his Clan but also in fighting against the evil that had brought destruction.
Clenching his fists, he swore to take revenge. He swore to bring to account those who could commit such a thing. He swore that he would not stop for a moment until the guilty were punished.
For a brief moment, the Jedi closed his eyes, immersing himself once more in the forced calm of meditation, but before his eyelids closed, a yellow spark flickered in the corners of his pupils, only to vanish just as quickly.
Mace Windu, a Jedi full of sorrow and bitterness, but also resolve, set off into the depths of the jungle to find traces of those who were the last light of his people.
He did not believe that the entire Windu Ghosh, the strongest Clan on the planet, had been so easily destroyed, and then he boldly set out on his search, confident in his own righteousness.
His soul, more than ever, was full of fury and pain, but it was these very feelings that were meant to guide him to the truth.
And in the darkest corners of his heart, hidden behind the blinding white light, a desire to avenge his kin and his people ignited, to once again return hope to this corner of the Universe.
***
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