The Last Battle
The report came in from WayLand. "Sir, the natives have massed in attack on WayLand. Mynerishi, Psadans, and.." Lieutenant Tschel's voice trailed off, "A noghri." Pellaeon felt a chill, disperse up his spine, as he turned quickly, searching out Rukh's whereabouts. He glanced over at Thrawn, upon hearing him emit a sigh, the glowpanels casting a crimson glow to the red stain encircling a knifepoint protruding from Thrawn's chest. "But.. it was so artistically done.." His penetrating, red-glowing eyes faded, as did the life of the last Imperial Grand Admiral.
Pellaeon tumbled to the side, as a numbing blow, struck his left temple, he crumpled face-down upon the deck. Upon gaining consciousness, he glanced at the tactical holo-displays, seeing defeat written in the projected images. "Lieutenant Tschel, order the retreat. Its over." Grand Admiral Thrawn could still have pulled a Imperial Victory out of it. But Pellaeon, was not Thrawn.
Rukh, ran stealthily through the corridors leading towards the shuttle bay. His heart beat, resounding like a wookiee battlecry within his chest. He exalted in the primal ecstasy of the hunt. He had avenged his people, and killed the leader of their oppressors, they, who had kept them within the tyrannical chains of slavery for generations, bleeding the lifeblood of their people had finally reaped the sour seeds they had sown. And, he had the honor of vindicating his people. He raced down the corridor, captured Blastech E-11 held in a firing posture, at high port, his lithe, grace and speed, not giving full testament to the strength within his wiry limbs.
With predator-like efficiency and precision he stopped upon reaching the shuttle bay, his eyes not at all surprised as they glimpsed the full Brigade of StormTroopers positioned in ambush formation. "To fight, or to flee?" Rukh's eyes drifted for a fleet moment,he stared at the glistening white armor of the Stormtroopers in disdain. None of them were a match for him one on one. He could evade them for a long time. In time, maybe even kill them all.
As he contemplated attack, the idea took a liking to him. He felt no doubt, no hesitation at the thought of taking on a full Brigade of Stormtroopers single-handedly. A sure defeat for any single soul, even a noghri. He had fully become what he was born to be, a hunter a killer, his inhibitions and doubt thrown to the wind. As he cut down the first four Stormtroopers with a flurry, of rapid fire shots, already shifting his aim towards the next, he smiled, never before having felt as he did in that moment, rapture within himself, as his soul delighted in his act. He rolled inhumanly fast, taking cover behind some crates, his movement a mere flicker of motion to the eye. His adrenaline pumped through his veins, things seeming to happen in slow-motion as his training and super-human reflexes, merged with his will, stormtroopers overwhelmed before a hail of blaster bolts unleashed with lethal accuracy. Finally it was over. The smoking bodies of stormtroopers littered the floor of the shuttle bay. Rukh walked slowly out from behind his cover, making his way towards the ramp of a nearby shuttle. He had avenged his people, and won a glorious battle, he felt he would never live such honor again, a grin spread upon his predatory features, needle sharp teeth glittering in the pale light.
"Major Tierce, to Command, Sir I have succeeded in terminating the traitor, Rukh." Pierce's voice sounded strained, labored. "I will have his remains stuffed and his head mounted on your wall sir." "Roger that Major Tierce, well done." Tierce glanced upon Rukh's prone form, the grin still evident upon Rukh's face, faint steam of charred flesh rising from the back of the shawl-like garment noghri commandos favored. He wasn't proud of pretending to be dead, then shooting such a worthy foe in the back. But a victory is a victory.. Even a bittersweet one.
The report came in from WayLand. "Sir, the natives have massed in attack on WayLand. Mynerishi, Psadans, and.." Lieutenant Tschel's voice trailed off, "A noghri." Pellaeon felt a chill, disperse up his spine, as he turned quickly, searching out Rukh's whereabouts. He glanced over at Thrawn, upon hearing him emit a sigh, the glowpanels casting a crimson glow to the red stain encircling a knifepoint protruding from Thrawn's chest. "But.. it was so artistically done.." His penetrating, red-glowing eyes faded, as did the life of the last Imperial Grand Admiral.
Pellaeon tumbled to the side, as a numbing blow, struck his left temple, he crumpled face-down upon the deck. Upon gaining consciousness, he glanced at the tactical holo-displays, seeing defeat written in the projected images. "Lieutenant Tschel, order the retreat. Its over." Grand Admiral Thrawn could still have pulled a Imperial Victory out of it. But Pellaeon, was not Thrawn.
Rukh, ran stealthily through the corridors leading towards the shuttle bay. His heart beat, resounding like a wookiee battlecry within his chest. He exalted in the primal ecstasy of the hunt. He had avenged his people, and killed the leader of their oppressors, they, who had kept them within the tyrannical chains of slavery for generations, bleeding the lifeblood of their people had finally reaped the sour seeds they had sown. And, he had the honor of vindicating his people. He raced down the corridor, captured Blastech E-11 held in a firing posture, at high port, his lithe, grace and speed, not giving full testament to the strength within his wiry limbs.
With predator-like efficiency and precision he stopped upon reaching the shuttle bay, his eyes not at all surprised as they glimpsed the full Brigade of StormTroopers positioned in ambush formation. "To fight, or to flee?" Rukh's eyes drifted for a fleet moment,he stared at the glistening white armor of the Stormtroopers in disdain. None of them were a match for him one on one. He could evade them for a long time. In time, maybe even kill them all.
As he contemplated attack, the idea took a liking to him. He felt no doubt, no hesitation at the thought of taking on a full Brigade of Stormtroopers single-handedly. A sure defeat for any single soul, even a noghri. He had fully become what he was born to be, a hunter a killer, his inhibitions and doubt thrown to the wind. As he cut down the first four Stormtroopers with a flurry, of rapid fire shots, already shifting his aim towards the next, he smiled, never before having felt as he did in that moment, rapture within himself, as his soul delighted in his act. He rolled inhumanly fast, taking cover behind some crates, his movement a mere flicker of motion to the eye. His adrenaline pumped through his veins, things seeming to happen in slow-motion as his training and super-human reflexes, merged with his will, stormtroopers overwhelmed before a hail of blaster bolts unleashed with lethal accuracy. Finally it was over. The smoking bodies of stormtroopers littered the floor of the shuttle bay. Rukh walked slowly out from behind his cover, making his way towards the ramp of a nearby shuttle. He had avenged his people, and won a glorious battle, he felt he would never live such honor again, a grin spread upon his predatory features, needle sharp teeth glittering in the pale light.
"Major Tierce, to Command, Sir I have succeeded in terminating the traitor, Rukh." Pierce's voice sounded strained, labored. "I will have his remains stuffed and his head mounted on your wall sir." "Roger that Major Tierce, well done." Tierce glanced upon Rukh's prone form, the grin still evident upon Rukh's face, faint steam of charred flesh rising from the back of the shawl-like garment noghri commandos favored. He wasn't proud of pretending to be dead, then shooting such a worthy foe in the back. But a victory is a victory.. Even a bittersweet one.
