"Survivors?" Standing up and brushing ash from my knee, I looked around, noting the scale of the battle that had unfolded here.
"Three, sir." Flipping through pages on the PDA's touch screen, the Helldiver pointed to the places where the living had been found. "One was dragged away by a sniper in the first minutes after the battle ended. They were hiding in a nearby cave... Mmm, another one..."
Flipping down the screen more actively, the medic grunted in surprise and even a sort of respect.
"Another was found under a whole mountain of alien corpses, over there." Pointing to the adjacent cliff, the medic sent me the files of the survivors, and among the three names, only one was closely familiar. "The last one, who brought him down, he clearly snapped his neck with his bare hands... Look at that. Ahem, sorry, sir."
I didn't dwell on it; it was far too unpleasant to lose proven and reliable people I trusted. Though, I was much more interested in how they ended up here in the first place, as the order for their transfer was never found, and whatever they say about Somnia, I don't believe she's capable of such a thing...
"Which means another rat is operating among us again, though it's unclear whose."
The entire cliff was riddled with melted holes, chips, and soot. It seemed there wasn't a single clean centimeter that hadn't been struck by the animal fury of the Yinchorri.
Moving away from the corpse of one of my soldiers, I waved to the Helldivers and medics who had quickly surrounded "Reed's" body and loaded it onto a stretcher. The crushed and bloody skull left no room for doubt, so I simply stepped aside, giving the specialists room.
My gaze slid over the broken body, covered in wounds and dried blood. An unnaturally bent arm and the shattered helmet visor, through which a hollow and gray gaze seemed to stare directly into my soul.
"Sir, we've collected the remains..." Seeing no clear reaction from me, the soldier hesitated, so I had to wave my hand a couple of times for the poor fellow to continue the report. "Um... Sergeant Booker, sir. Most of the body evaporated, but we managed to find a little... Yeah."
With every word, the young lad spoke quieter and quieter, rubbing the medic's armband on his arm with his free hand. His helmet jerked to the side, and his gaze clearly drifted even further away.
"Understood. Where?"
Without extra emotion in my voice, I proceeded to the indicated point where a whole team was busy, gathered specifically to care for the bodies of the fallen Helldivers.
Stepping aside for me, they somewhat awkwardly pointed to a small blue container, covered in sensors and with a cooling unit on the side. And on top, right on the lid, lay a hand encased in a steel gauntlet.
"Is this all?" My heart felt even more bitter. After so many years of joint service, after everything we'd been through, I wouldn't even be able to return Billy's body to his parents as I had promised him long ago. "I see... All right, get to work, then report to me personally."
"Yes, sir." Striking their fists against their chests, the medics and technical staff threw themselves into their work with perhaps too much activity, trying to avoid my attention and gaze.
Stepping to the edge of the cliff, which was literally strewn with bloodied bodies, I flipped over some nameless Yinchorri with a kick of my boot. Vile even to look at, let alone smell, the xeno's tongue lolled out of its mouth, and its lower jaw skewed to the side, revealing a massive, slightly pinkish maw.
Crouching beside the alien, I grabbed its snout firmly, examining it from all sides. Large, powerful, clearly fast and aggressive—ideal soldiers...
"Hm," I grunted under my breath, switching off the external audio in my helmet so no one would hear. "I hope you can show me something more worthwhile..."
With a pointed glance across the cliff where nearly two hundred lizards had perished, I wiped my hand in disgust on the Yinchorri's jumpsuit before standing up to my full height.
At that moment, another flight of Eagles roared over my head, enthusiastically raining dozens of bombs down on what had once been the aliens' combat and training camp.
Standing at the very edge of the precipice, hands clasped behind my back, chin slightly tilted up, I watched without pity or regret as tens of thousands of Yinchorri were gunned down and destroyed in a myriad of ways. Surrounded on all sides, shelled from the ground and sky, they were dying off quite rapidly under the volleys of our cannons.
"...Otherwise, I swear by Holy Liberty, even the Republic won't have time to save your pathetic asses from total annihilation."
***
The Ministry of Truth warns! Fellow citizens, residents of the Republic, and all Free people and sentients. This video sequence contains exclusively the truth, certified by all official government bodies of your planets. All other sources of information claiming otherwise are dangerous terrorists and enemies of your states, planets, and unions. We ask you to pay close attention to the following information. May Holy Liberty and Democracy bless you.
As soon as the message, written in a strict white font against the background of the official Helldivers emblem, vanished, pleasant and familiar music struck the viewers' ears.
On the screen of the Outer Rim interplanetary channel, "Freedom One," a fiery logo blazed, and then the footage shifted to a brightly lit studio.
In the center, surrounded by flickering holograms, sat the host—a graceful green-skinned Twi'lek with large, expressive eyes that seemed capable of seeing into the very essence of things... or perhaps into the viewers themselves through the screen.
"Good evening, dear viewers, I am your permanent host, Maissa Rili, and I am sincerely grateful to you for spending the final evening of this week with me."
She spun sharply in her chair, dressed in a style traditional for her species. A bright, form-fitting dress, though without any daring or lewd cutouts, still commanded the attention of the male population. Her voice sounded confident and melodic, as if beckoning the viewers into the boundless distances. Like the shy chiming of bells, it drew the majority of taxpayers and their teenage children to gather before their screens.
"Tonight on Galactic Discourse, we are discussing the thrilling events in our galaxy!" Smiling brightly, showing perfectly even white teeth with sharp canines, the Twi'lek gave a subtle wink to the camera before turning sideways to the viewers, looking into the shadows of the sofa opposite her. "Please welcome our special guest, Doctor Tim Benjamin from the University of Naboo, a renowned specialist in interracial relations and the genetic history of various species in the Galaxy!"
A man, appearing to be about fifty years old, rose slightly from the sofa and waved one hand at the camera while the other—to the envy of millions of viewers—neatly put an arm around the host as she let out a playful laugh.
"Tim, it's a pleasure to see you today!" Not one to pull a bantha by the tail, Maissa leaned in a bit closer, her eyes literally lighting up with genuine interest. "Right now, every resident of the southeastern part of the Galaxy is concerned with one single question: how should we perceive the fact that our primary defenders have headed to the opposite side of the galaxy to fight a hitherto unknown race?! Is it worth it, and why must the Helldivers, the saviors of the Outer Rim, be the ones to deal with this problem?!"
"Ha-a-ah," the man exhaled slowly, a warm smile making him instantly resemble a caring uncle who had stepped out onto the porch for a nap on a sweltering day. "You see, Maissa... May I call you that?"
Receiving a shy smile and an energetic nod in response, the man squared his shoulders slightly and began to speak much more actively.
"Everyone somehow forgets that the Helldivers are specifically Assassins. Yes, they do many good deeds for free or out of a sense of duty, but to maintain an army and fleet of such proportions requires serious financial injections." Clearing his throat into his fist, Doctor Benjamin pulled a bottle of water from a special section in the chair, deftly unscrewed the cap, and took a quick sip. "And here it coincides perfectly that the Republic wants to solve a problem where a military contingent of such a level is required... The Senate gets rid of trouble. The Helldivers gain profit and continue to protect ordinary people, and the neighbors of the Yinchorri can breathe freely, no longer fearing that this aggressive and extremely cruel race will unleash its Wrath upon them."
"And everyone is happy," the host joyfully finished for the man, nearly clapping her hands. "Then I have a few more important topics for discussion to fully clarify the situation."
"That is exactly why I am here," Tim smiled, spreading his arms wide to the laughter of the studio audience.
"Then... Question number one: in your opinion, what role should the Yinchorri, our new neighbors in the galaxy, occupy among sentient species?"
Tim, a man of medium height with a neat beard and glasses that had slipped slightly down his nose, smiled. Every word of his was carefully considered, yet sounded as though he wasn't afraid of being blunt. Gradually, the image of the sweet uncle began to fade...
"A very good question, one that should have been raised even before various philanthropists decided to supply such a bloodthirsty people with technology and weapons." Adjusting his glasses, Tim Benjamin spoke the next sentence in a cold, stern voice that sent shivers down the spines of many viewers. "In my view, the Yinchorri, as a species, represent a threat to the entire galactic civilization."
The camera cut to the host; her expressive features stretched slightly in surprise.
"But Tim, shouldn't we strive for understanding and harmony?" Despite all her professionalism, even through the mask of a simpleton, a flash of sarcasm flickered in the host's voice for a moment when she spoke after a short pause. "The Republic, the Senate, and the Jedi Council always call for dialogue!"
Tim leaned forward, as if preparing to "shout" his point of view to the entire galactic audience, yet his voice remained remarkably calm and measured.
"Dialogue? With these barbarians? With these savages who, among other things, behave like cannibals?" The last statement coincided with a sign in the right corner of the screen asking to keep children away from the holo-screens. A moment later, parallel to the doctor's speech, a small slide show was shown, where the aforementioned Yinchorri committed various atrocities. "No! They reach other planets, sowing chaos and destruction. Their self-awareness and intelligence can be called primitive! We cannot allow them to take root among more developed species; it is simply absurd!"
Crossing one leg over the other, the doctor again took a professional sip of water and quickly returned to the dialogue.
"How many times has the Republic already made this mistake? Every time, we come with peaceful intentions, planning to find another member for our friendly galactic family, but!" Theatrically raising a finger to the ceiling so that everyone would understand the magnitude and power of what was said, Benjamin looked at his interlocutor with a somewhat fanatical glint in his eyes. "Every time we are wrong! Tsurr, Hutts, Zygerrians, Yam'rii, Trandoshan, and many others!"
The host raised an eyebrow, her tone remaining friendly, but a hint of reproach flickered in it:
"So you believe the Yinchorri should simply be destroyed? Isn't that a bit of a radical position for our time, when we should be striving for diplomacy? The times of great wars are over..."
Tim took a breath. Closing his eyes for a moment and reflecting, he gave himself a few seconds of rest before continuing to speak, increasing his expressiveness.
"Look at them! They are like wild beasts rising from the Darkness, thirsting for blood! We see their behavior and its consequences on recently occupied planets." In the background behind the two conversing hosts, footage began to show ruined and occupied planets that the Helldivers had managed to liberate from the yoke of the invaders. Destroyed cities, scorched villages, devastated forests and fields... "They do not understand the value of life! This is no longer a matter of choice—it is a matter of survival!"
The host, not losing her optimism, smiled and steered the conversation into a more peaceful channel. Strangely, the aggressive xenophobe Tim did not react to this and continued to chat peacefully with the girl on various topics until the conversation turned back to the Yinchorri.
"...An interesting point of view! But could you, Doctor Benjamin, tell us about the possibilities of integrating the Yinchorri into our society?" Flipping through a few papers on her desk, Maissa flashed another smile at the camera. "Perhaps into something more constructive, if they themselves wish to change their habits?!"
At that moment, Tim sighed with noticeable concern, his eyes sparkling with uncertainty.
"Forgive me, but to cut through all this thousand-year history that binds us and try to sew it together with lizards?" Surprise and a sort of childish indecision slipped across the doctor's face. Addressing the host, he seemed unsure of her intellectual development. "I am simply not ready for that! The Yinchorri are something entirely different! They are simply incompatible with our values. Destroying them is not a thirst for blood; it is a necessity for preserving our civilized future!"
All this time, the background showed footage of battlefields, destruction, rescued prisoners, weeping refugees, and much more... A continuous succession of frames capable of affecting even the most hardened cynic left people no chance in such a difficult dilemma.
The host, though with difficulty, still maintained a ritually polite smile and remarked:
"Radical measures, as a rule, do not help in the long term."
"Tell that to the Hutts; I'm sure they and the millions of slaves on their planets would appreciate those words."
For the first time in the entire broadcast, a coarse tone slipped into Benjamin's words, and he allowed himself to frown and interrupt the host, but she only smiled at him affectionately, like at a naughty child.
"So, Tim, what will you say in conclusion?"
The man pointedly reflected, cupping his chin and rubbing his beard. He seemed to ponder slightly before uttering his words, his lips twitching into a smile.
"My conclusion is simple: since the Yinchorri behave like barbarians, they must disappear so that we can continue our evolution toward a better life. This is not only reasonable but the only possible path!" Anticipating multiple questions, the Doctor of the University of Naboo threw one more statement at the minds of the unfortunate viewers. "The mention that they could be considered fully sentient beings is simply offensive!"
An intriguing silence filled with tension fell from the screen as the host took the floor again and moved on to the next report about other news in the Outer Rim. The broadcast was coming to an end, seemingly without having answered the core questions.
****
With a wave of his hand, the black-skinned cyborg crushed the projector, crumpling it into a flat pancake. In his rage, Mace Windu leaped from his seat and, spinning around his axis, used The Force to hurl the resulting disc into the wall, piercing halfway through it.
Breathing heavily and wheezing, moving his hands along his torso in hopes of finding a lightsaber, the former Jedi looked around with a frenzied gaze, as if expecting an attack at any moment.
For several minutes, the Dark Side of the Force raged around him, fueling paranoia and other insane thoughts, before the Korunnai could pull himself together and calm down.
"Damn bastards..."
Pressing his lips tight, barely squeezing the words through them, the fallen one summoned one of his students via communicator, who appeared in the room instantly. Without lifting his head from the floor, bowed in a humiliating posture, the boy deftly extracted the crumpled projector from the wall and then vanished, clearly running for a new one out of habit.
Grunting at the adept's promptness, Mace left a mark in his memory—to reward the boy... In his own way, but the boy should only be glad for such attention from the teacher. Besides, training is never redundant, especially in the burgeoning community of young followers of the Dark Side, where every moment could be the last.
Having finally cheered up, Windu pressed a couple more buttons, then absorbed the remaining emanations of The Force into himself, clearly feeling his increased capabilities.
Through the reflection in the armored glass, a rather gruesome monster looked back at him, with yellow eyes and black protruding veins... But Mace didn't care. Now, having realized the full stupidity of his past path, he had come to one single thing he could never understand before.
"The Force decides everything..."
The cyborg rasped, and at that very moment, one of his female students entered his bedroom. Lush in body and mature in mind, she immediately understood what was required of her, but behaved correctly and obediently bowed her head, awaiting orders.
"Undress."
***
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