Loyalty Is Her Second Name
Chapter 3
Walking in the Gloom
Lucia stared despondently at the deep green planet they were about to land on and all too soon join the fray on the battlefield. She would have found it more agreeable if not for a fact that the planet was Kashyyk, the home of beastly strong and agile race of Wookies. The great physical prowess of their warriors coupled with masterful application of guerrilla tactics was enough to nullify the Sith army's technological advantage. Since the goal was to bring the planet under the Sith heel, not to lay waste to it, they had to rely on the numbers to overwhelm the Wookies. Hence, more and more soldiers' lives were sacrificed on this particular battlefront with no progress in sight. The morale was plummeting.
Of course, she didn't know all these details while still above the planet, yet subconsciously she picked up on the rising unease of lieutenant Ulabore. The rest of the recruits were too fresh and excited about their first battle engagement. The situation down there had to be getting desperate to allow such greenhorns to fight.
After the touch down on the landing platform at the top of the gigantic wroshyr trees and entering the military stronghold the Sith has established in the beginning of the conquest effort, Lucia's mood noticeably worsened, her features hardening into a stoic facade, as her jaw clenched tightly. Her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. She saw the dispirited looks, some carefully concealed pity the experienced soldiers gave to her unit, the utter desolation of those who lost the hope to ever leave the planet alive. Lucia resolved she would absolutely not let herself to be led to the pointless slaughter. She just had to find a way.
Lucia looked spitefully at Ulabore's back as he left them on the yard to receive next orders. She didn't know what happened back on Traon III to turn him into a bundle of nerves, but she strongly suspected the change of heart occurred in him after witnessing quartermaster Paasok's execution. Apparently the one to carry out the death sentence was a Sith Lord. They were rumoured to be the most vicious warriors. Most of the beings, even their followers, prayed not to encounter any of them, and if unlucky – not to cause their wrath. Her assumption about Ulabore must have been correct, because what else could spurn the man into checking the condition of unit's brand new, fresh from the storage uniforms and equipment five times a day?
Two of the recruits, due to boredom, started to exuberantly play with their blaster rifles, mock shooting at each other. The rest of the unit was standing around, watching them with mild interest.
'Ha ha, dodge this!' exclaimed playfully one recruit.
As the other was theatrically ducking to the side in exaggerated manner, suddenly the first one's rifle released a shot. Thankfully, it went above the recruit's head and struck the trunk of a tree.
'What's your problem, man! You could've killed me!' shouted angrily the almost victim, regaining his wits after the scare.
'Sorry, it was an accident! I didn't even touch the trigger!' the shooter swore.
That explanation didn't go down well and the argument escalated into a fistfight, which was broken down only after the return of lieutenant Ulabore. The man was in a foul mood, the deep wrinkle marring his forehead a sure sign of suppressed irritation. Lucia was good at recognizing fear and Ulabore practically reeked of it. This observation doubled her want to get away from his command.
'If you two have the energy to start a brawl, you're going to take a point position when we go out,' Ulabore decided on the punishment.
The unfortunate blokes didn't sense the malice in his tone, because they puffed up in pride, thinking that being on the point will guarantee more kills to brag about later. Lucia didn't pity them – if they were killed, it would be their own fault for being so stupid.
Ulabore had the unit march to another part of the base to pick up a batch of equally fresh recruits from a different training facility. Then the both units would combine to form a single squad.
During the move, Lucia specially loosened up the strap of her rifle, so that the weapon would dangle and bang against her thigh with every step she took. Next, she surreptitiously switched off the safety and put her finger on the trigger. Bracing herself, she squeezed it.
Lucia howled in complete agony, tumbling to the ground. She didn't imagine it would hurt this much, but then she's never been shot from a point blank range. Through a haze of pain she barely registered the commotion around her.
Someone was shouting for the medic, two strong arms tore her hands away from the smoking wound, which was gushing the blood like a fountain, another pair was putting pressure on it, trying to staunch the bloodloss. Before the real medical help arrived, Lucia had dropped into a dead faint.
Lucia remembers waking up groggily on a cot in a stuffy hospital room. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air, poorly masking smells of bodily fluids, which mixed up with it to create the disgusting odour she was forced to breathe in. When she tried to sit up, a lance of pain stabbed her in the leg, sending the throb all the way up to her spine. She groaned through her parched throat and after a moment of rest, made a very slow, careful attempt to sit up, using only her arms.
Lightheaded from the strain, she took in the sight of her surroundings. It wasn't a room, like she's assumed at first, but a big hall filled to the brim with rows upon rows of cots occupied by injured soldiers. Some were in a deep, medication-induced sleep, others were awake like her. Soft wisps of conversation reached Lucia's ears but she couldn't distinguish most of the words spoken. Light moans of terror escaped those in throes of a nightmare.
Lucia temporarily had nothing to do besides laying down and waiting for the wound to heal. To stave off the boredom she closed her eyes and focused on her hearing to eavesdrop, but whatever snippets she caught weren't worth much. She opened her eyes and sighed, then turned to the neighbouring cots to start up a chat. Abruptly, she became as white as a sheet – the men, laying on both her sides, were dead. Their stiffness, pale skin pallor, open, unmoving eyes meant that they had probably passed away a few hours again.
If she was superstitious, she would have taken is a bad sign., but she's only been spooked. Lucia certainly wasn't a stranger to dead bodies, though she's never stayed long around them, unlike her current predicament. Seeing a fly wondering down the face of a corpse, she shuddered with disgust.
The nurses came in, thankfully, though not soon enough for Lucia's tastes. The corpses were taken out, but the cots didn't stay unoccupied for long. After breakfast of disgusting mush she had forced herself to swallow, new patients were brought in to the ward. Her two new, breathing neighbours looked too banged up to talk, so she didn't bother.
Lucia remembers her stay in the hospital as immensely boring, however she was so pleased with her ruse to avoid taking part in the hopeless battle working, that it made it all worth. Her wound was very deep and she had to wait six weeks before she was allowed to stand up from the bed. Blaster shot destroyed a good chunk of her thigh and breached the artery. Healing would have been faster if not for a fact that the Sith wouldn't have allowed a lowly recruit like her the treatment in the bacta tank. Also, the supplies of synth-muscle tissue were running out and she had to wait for a new batch to arrive to have them transplanted.
To alleviate the dullness she chatted with the neighbouring patients who despite being immobilised eventually found enough energy to hold a conversation for more than a few seconds. Information, no matter the source, or even just a good story had a great value in the ward, allowing to make fast friends and Lucia used it to her advantage.
The opening she needed was created by the news of the Gloom Walkers, a platoon of fresh recruits, who had been cut off from the main forces and had spent three days of nearly constant combat before finding their way back. What was more astonishing, they had suffered miraculously low losses with body count of only six. The whole army glowed with pride about this feat of unheard bravery, the morale rising rapidly.
When Lucia learned that it was lieutenant Ulabore's platoon, she jumped upon the chance to mention she had been assigned there. Disregarding her own utter disbelief the man could have succeeded in leadership like that, she obliged other people's eager curiosity about him and spouted nonsense after nonsense about his supposed greatness, charisma and integrity. Although she had no lost love for Ulabore, spinning such stories in his favour was advantageous to her.
The fairy tales were in demand and so fairy tales she delivered on a daily basis, in turn gathering useful information about the reality of serving in the Sith army, which then allowed her to plan how to stay away from the battle in the future. Never again would she resort to self-maiming. Just in this one instance she had an incredible amount of luck the injury was fully recoverable from and she wouldn't have any problems with mobility. Besides, she couldn't afford getting noticed by the medical staff for purposely keeping herself away from duty, as it was grounds for execution.
As Lucia left the ward under her own steam, brimming with relief mixed with trepidation, she knew the trick was to land a safe position as far away from Wookie's sharp claws as possible. Thankfully, since Gloom Walkers first deployment, the tides of war have turned on the invaders' side. The Sith army was swiftly advancing, beating the natives and Republican troops into submission. Half of the planet was already brought under their undisputed control.
The war machine was unstoppable. Soon the Wookies would understand that accepting defeat was necessary in order to survive. Soon their pride would be broken and ground into fine dust. It was just a matter of time.
But before this time came, Lucia had to report in the administration building to get her new troop assignment. Along the way she saw the ships leaving the planet. She cast a few longing looks in their direction, knowing that desertion was the worst thing she could attempt at the moment. The Sith treated it like the highest crime and so the punishment was also of the highest order. She shuddered remembering the gruesome stories describing what happened to those who tried to escape, told in whispers by other patients.
Lucia decided to stick to her plan, while looking for an opportunity. She found the right office and confidently entered. She gave the young office worker her best smile, hoping to get in his good graces and change around the assignment to suit her needs if necessary. It seemed to work, as the man considerably brightened at her sight.
'Junior trooper Lucia, ID 0753479, reporting in, sir,' she said. The man nodded and shuffled through the papers littering his desk.
'Ah yes, I have your assignment... here!' he pulled out the right form from the pile triumphantly. 'You're to report to squad P20 in barracks C.'
Lucia looked at him flirtatiously from under lowered eyelashes, while curling a lock of hair around her finger. 'Do you know what I'll be doing in there, sir? Any advice?' she asked, pouting cutely. Inwardly, she felt pretty stupid doing all of that. However, it had the desired effect.
'Well, yes, of course I know!' the man said proudly. 'It's just some patrolling duty, now that the beasts are on retreat, you probably won't see much action.'
Lucia, hearing good news, gave him a sincere smile. 'Thank you, sir!' she saluted and stepped out of the office.
'If you have some time, come to the west cantina for a drink!' the man stood up and called after her.
'Sure,' she replied, absently noting to herself to go only to the east cantina. She didn't need any drama with officers at the moment, especially of the kind dealing with heart matters. She was in enough predicament as it was – surviving the war unscathed took priority over any romantic entanglements the man might have hoped for.
Lucia remembers biding her time.
She bided her time as she was acquainted with her unit. They were all remains from fully decimated squads so she stuck out like a sore thumb, having virtually no experience in fighting in the unique environment of Kashyyk. Her isolation was lessened by the fact that some of them were also recently released from the hospital, though she didn't recognize anyone. All in all, a decent, if a little on a paranoid side, bunch.
She bided her time as she went out with the squad for the patrols. Checking their assigned area regularly sounded boring. It was anything but. The gigantic trees, wroshyr, created so many hidden spots, secret pathways, gave a habitat to so many creatures, both lethal and harmless, that she had to never let her guard down, lest she would have been killed and eaten, not necessarily in that order. Now she better understood where the others' paranoia came from. And whenever they returned alive and no worse for the wear, it felt surprisingly exhilarating.
She bided her time as she fought. The Wookie and Republican forces made a formidable enemy, expertly taking advantage of the home turf, always laying in ambush to strike when least expected. Once the squad was attacked by a madclaw – a Wookie who had lost his honour and fought like an animal, clawing and biting. They were a terror for the whole Sith army, because as they had nothing more to lose, they stopped fearing death, turning into bloodthirsty berserkers. It was no wonder while a half of the squad froze in fear and stupefaction upon seeing their comrade suddenly torn apart and tossed aside like a ragdoll by a ferocious, towering, wild mass of muscle, fur and sharp claws, dripping with blood of its victim, the other half of the squad turned tail and ran away in primal panic.
Lucia belonged to the first half. Contrary to her normal behaviour when faced with mortal danger, the sight of such a gruesome death of a person she ate breakfast with not too long ago, the suddenness of the attack, the brutality – all of it shook her up enough to root her in a spot. She looked uncomprehendingly at the Wookie – no, the beast – who let out a vicious bellow, locking its eyes with hers. She saw in them the all-consuming hatred and rage, bloodlust and insanity taking over the conscious thought, leaving a mindless creature in their wake. Lucia saw it all and understood it all, her blood chilled. In split second, as the beast pounced, she raised the rifle.
Aim. Shoot. Kill.
It was but an instinct.
Lucia gazed blankly at the Wookie laying at her feet, its mighty body trembling, the claws tearing through the wood of a platform like through paper. At last, it stilled. Only then the fact that she shot it cold-bloodedly mid-leap caught up with her and she gasped.
It was the first Wookie she killed but certainly not the last.
Upon their return, the squad threw a celebration party in the cantina. Although she was a hero of the day, Lucia drank moderately, allowing herself only a little buzz. The others weren't so restrained and soon the party became too rowdy for her tastes, so she slinked out to go for a walk.
Her feet took her near the landing platform. As Lucia watched the unloading and take-off of one of the supply ships, she realized she could have easily boarded it and escaped the planet with the Sith none the wiser.
She smiled, looking up at the distant stars lighting the night sky.
'Maybe some other time...' she whispered and toasted to them silently.
Lucia stopped biding her time. For better or worse, she was staying.
The Jedi say that Force works in mysterious ways. Lucia, though not a very believing type, this time was inclined to agree.
While the campaign on Kashyyk was practically won, only small pockets of resistance remaining for the Sith to pick off at their leisure, the bulk of main forces was relocated to Trandosha. Although Lucia's squad wasn't deployed there, she's heard about the great losses sustained by both the Sith and Republic on the plains of Hsskhor, the capital of the planet. In the end the Sith gained Trandoshans' support they wanted, but for Lucia it meant another thing – reassignment.
When the orders came for the squad to be disbanded and for its members to reinforce one of the units which survived Hsskhor, she wasn't very surprised. What put her on edge was the name of that unit – Gloom Walkers.
Was it coincidence or was it fate? She doesn't know but considering all that happened later in her life it couldn't have been just by chance that she was placed back under Ulabore's command or rather – Sergeant Dessel's command. Meeting him wasn't just luck – and she finds it all the more terrifying for that.
After her release from the hospital she stopped keeping up with the gossip about Gloom Walkers. Some reconnaissance was long overdue, so she headed to the cantina.
A few hours later, when she got back woozily to the barracks, her head was pounding from all the information. From what she gathered, it seemed like the real command in the squad didn't belong to Ulabore (she snorted, all of them would be dead if that was a case). Instead, the de facto leader was Sergeant Dessel and at this point all the relations and recounts of the man started to vary. The only other thing everyone agreed on was his appearance – tall and bald human male in his early twenties. Everything else seemed to be up to debate.
Lucia rubbed over her eyes to lessen the pain as she pondered over all the opinions (and wild speculations) about him.
'Sergeant Des? He's a great soldier, it'd be an honour to serve with him!'
'Huge and scary guy.'
'That freaking giant? I heard he's killed a Wookie with his bare hands! How crazy is that?'
'He's a damn cheater! Always winning in sabacc is impossible! Impossible, I tell you!'
'Well, I think he's kind of cute...'
And so on...
Looked like a complicated man, all right. Lucia decided she would have to see him for herself before forming her own opinion and went to sleep.
The first encounter with the infamous Sergeant wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Lucia's unit was shipped off to Karlis, where they joined Gloom Walkers.
Standing in perfect rows and being subjected to Ulabore prattling on about orders this and duty that was a maddening experience, especially for Lucia who had a much better knowledge about the man's deeds than anyone around. Thankfully, he ceased talking and left with impeccable timing, as she was seriously considering turning homicidal and shooting him was worth a while of peace and quiet. After such a long time apart, she found out that his mere voice was grating on her nerves.
The unit saluted mandatorily as Ulabore left. His vacant place in front of them was taken by the huge, bald man with impressive physique, which couldn't really be hidden under his uniform. Lucia briefly wondered whether he had trained something to acquire the bulging muscles.
What was most important about him wasn't his physical appearance but the aura he exuded. He had a specific, commanding presence, the special charisma characteristic to a natural born leader. It was clearly seen in the eyes of his soldiers – the absolute admiration and respect shining in them brilliantly.
Sergeant Dessel rapped his knuckles against his chest and the veterans returned the gesture. Those unfamiliar with it saluted.
'Probably you're all wondering what it means,' Sergeant's voice rang clearly as he addressed the newcomers. 'It's a sign. A sign we made to show our bond, which was forged in battle on Kashyyk, tempered in blood spilled on Trandosha. It's the unbreakable bond of loyalty. You may think – what the hell is it, this loyalty? We were sent to the wolves, to fight and die and no one's going to care. And I tell you – you're wrong!' He looked at them fiercely and a few flinched as if burned by the conviction in his eyes. 'There are people who care and these are your comrades. When you fall, they give you a hand, when you're wounded, they bandage your wounds and when you're killed – they avenge you ten times over! That is loyalty. In our squad no one is left behind. This is Gloom Walkers' way, our way! Are you with us?!' he raised his fist.
'YES SIR!' boomed the ear-splitting, enthusiastic reply.
Lucia shouted it along others, her eyes watering unexpectedly, a tight, warm feeling blossoming in her chest. She felt as if she found at last something precious she was looking for her entire life and she never wanted to let it go. All her reservations vanished as she looked at the man standing before her with bright eyes, knowing she would follow him into the fire, because she recognized the truth in his words.
Sergeant thumped his chest.
Louder, multiple thumps immediately answered him.
Soon enough Sergeant's words were put to test as they were deployed on a first mission. Though Karlis was already under the Sith control, there was still a good chunk of land belonging to the Republican factions. They would have been left to themselves as they weren't much of a combat threat, but since they have attained the planet's power conduit facility and demanded for the Sith to leave or the power would stay cut off, the brass wasn't about to let them off lightly. Hence, Gloom Walkers were sent to retake the facility with as low collateral damage as possible.
That was the gist of Ulabore's briefing on the mission. With lot of noise and wild gesturing, he tried exceptionally hard to appear as if he was the one in command, but he wasn't fooling anyone – everyone and their mother knew he would relegate the actual work with planning the tactics for the operation to Sergeant. Promoting Sarge must have been the best decision he's ever made, Lucia thought snidely.
The power conduit facility was located in the middle of a hilly plain covered with grass so tall, a Wookie could hide in it without a need to hunch. To stack the odds in their favour, the Republicans turned the area into a minefield and kept a wide belt around the outer walls of the complex mowed, so that the guards could spot anyone lucky enough to avoid stepping on the mines and obliterate them with the blaster turrets from the elevated positions on top of the walls. In this case, stealth was the key to success.
Under the cover of the night, unheard thanks to the rustle of grasses, Gloom Walkers divided into four assault teams and cautiously followed their appointed leaders. To safely navigate the field, they had to rely on probe droids which scouted the way in advance. They went one after another, mindful a single misstep could mean getting blown to pieces and jeopardizing the mission.
Lucia belonged to the team led by Sergeant himself, but it didn't serve to calm her down. She was all tense, as it was her first so risky and important operation. Even though it was going without a hitch, she couldn't relax. Apparently, it wasn't just her own impression, because Sergeant halted them to consult the other teams by radio. He sent out the probe droid to scan ahead of them for any lifeforms or other droids but the investigation came up empty. The team moved on.
'What's that awful smell?' a soldier following behind Lucia complained in a whisper. She didn't respond, though she silently agreed with him – the smell was strongly irritating to the nose and eyes. A sudden splash startled her. It sounded like someone stepped into a deep puddle. They halted again and the probe hummed while analyzing the substance which definitely wasn't water.
'Shit,' Sergeant bit back a curse, checking the results and commed other teams. 'The enemy spilled oil over the field.'
Now Lucia wasn't just worried, she was seriously alarmed. Oil was a highly flammable fluid, one spark would be enough to set it off and kill them all in the explosion. Yet they couldn't go back.
They safely reached the inner edges of the field and stopped for a breath. The snipers were preparing to simultaneously take out the guards on the walls.
'Three... two... one... Fire!' came the command and several blaster bolts were shot in perfect unison. All but one hit their targets.
'Go!' ordered Sergeant at the same time as one of the turrets, manned by a guard who avoided the swift death by a stroke of luck, opened fire in their direction.
The assault team ran out of the cover, as the oil-saturated grass became alight with a loud blast. They practically flew, propelled by the wind from the explosion. The open field stretching for around two hundred meters provided enough distance even for a lone defender to massacre the attackers. Yet, they had no choice but to move forward and up the gentle slope.
Of all the things that could have happened to Lucia, she had to stumble on the uneven ground. She pitched forward but managed to catch herself on her arms, however it was long enough delay for her to fall back behind the rest. So much for not leaving anyone behind, she thought bitterly.
Someone grabbed her under arms and lifted her on her feet. She looked dumbfounded at the saviour who happened to be Sergeant Dessel himself. It seemed that he stayed behind the team to make sure no one would fall back... like her.
He gave her a cursory glance, checking for injuries, then finding none, pulled her along into run.
'You alright?' he asked anyway.
'I'm fine, just tripped,' Lucia replied shortly.
'Good! We need to take out the last guard!' that last sentence was shouted to the main group, a few paces in front of them.
One of the snipers positioned himself but before he could take a shot, a red bolt grazed his shoulder. The sniper rifle slipped from his grip and rolled down the slope. Not really thinking Lucia lunged for the weapon, pointed it at the enemy, taking only half a second to aim and fired. The turret fell silent.
'Nice shot, soldier,' Sergeant complimented. 'You should keep this rifle.'
Lucia nodded in gratitude for his praise and hang the gun over her shoulder. She wouldn't need it in close combat inside the buildings.
The rest of the operation was a piece of cake compared to the high danger level they were exposed to in the beginning. The other teams had more luck in disposing of the wall guards but lost a few troopers each during the fight which broke out inside the facility after they had made breaches in the walls with explosives. The resistance forces weren't well-armed, most of their equipment coming from the Sith they killed to capture the facility in the first place, but they were backed into a corner and fought desperately, to the last one standing. The sole exception was a prisoner taken by Sergeant himself for questioning.
All in all, the first mission of the revitalized Gloom Walkers was a staggering success. No thanks to Ulabore, what didn't really stop him from taking all the credit for it.
More importantly, Lucia realized that what Sergeant had spoken of – loyalty, fidelity, camaraderie wasn't just an empty talk, meant to motivate soldiers and raise morale. These values really existed, the mission on Karlis along with many instances later on a solid proof of it.
Any thoughts of desertion she might have still harboured, left her mind. From then on, Lucia belonged to Gloom Walkers in body and soul, her fate bound to theirs more tightly by her own devotion than no amount of coercion and terror could ever achieve.
Lucia remembers the enigma that was Sergeant Dessel and how it frustrated her that she could never truly figure him out. Not for her lack of trying, of course. Maybe there just weren't any fitting labels for him – in any time, in any place, the man remained maddeningly inscrutable.
She knew it wasn't because of his perfect poker face, which won him many difficult hands in sabacc, or even because of his uncanny situational awareness, which enabled him to spot observers right away. These weren't of much consequence. No, the man's impenetrable shield was built on the discrepancies in his behaviour.
Sergeant was much more complicated than a casual onlooker would give him a credit for. He looked like a thug but many times Lucia caught him in deep thought or engaging in the intelligent discussion with officers in the cantina. He was a shining example of a Sith soldier and a damn good leader but he didn't care for accolades, letting lieutenant Ulabore bask in the glory of his victories. He did his best to ensure the survival of his subordinates but didn't allow anyone close, choosing to keep them all at arm's length. He drank but never got smashed. He was a card shark but didn't seem to value his winnings.
In short – the man was a walking contradiction and she couldn't help but become fascinated with him.
These times, Lucia was in a perpetual good mood, giving more genuine smiles to people in a day than she gave in months. She could be often found humming a tune during completing some mundane task or joking with other soldiers. As hard as it was to believe, she actually was enjoying herself, despite the war and danger.
'You seem ridiculously happy to be in the middle of enemy territory,' struck up the conversation one of a few women in the platoon and her old comrade from P20, Ivie.
Lucia slid her gaze from the temporary camp to her. Everyone besides those on guard duty was sitting or laying on the ground comfortably, drinking the warm soup from their canteens.
'Too cozy to be the middle of enemy territory,' she drawled.
'Quiet before the storm,' Ivie said and plopped down on Lucia's left. She looked down pensively. 'Heard you've got sharp instincts. Don't you feel anything's off?' she asked abruptly.
Lucia looked at her appraisingly. 'Relax,' she said and gestured with her chin in the direction of Sergeant who was leaning over a map and discussing something in low tones with Senior Trooper Adanar. 'See them? As long as we have Sarge, there's nothing to worry about.'
'Maybe you're right,' Ivie sighed. 'I'm stressing myself out for no reason.'
The two lapsed into silence, enjoying the warmth of sun and the breeze delicately caressing their skin.
'What do you think about him?' Ivie asked suddenly.
'About who?'
'Sergeant.'
'He's great,' Lucia answered immediately. Nothing else came to mind.
'Just great?' There was amusement seeping into Ivie's voice.
'Yeah,' Lucia looked at her suspicious of the digging.
'Rrright,' the other woman said unconvinced.
Before Lucia could inquire what was the matter with her, came the orders to wind up the camp and move out again. Unfortunately, it seemed like Ivie had a well-developed sixth sense herself, because there was an ambush right after the nightfall. Ivie and a few unlucky others were killed then. Later, when Lucia had time to think about this particular conversation, she finally understood what Ivie was getting at.
Her admiration of Sergeant had nothing to do with any silly crush, she was sure, even if her old comrades from the patrol squad attributed her new upbeat attitude to falling in love. She just felt happy and content. For the first time in her life she belonged somewhere, she was needed and wanted. In Gloom Walkers she found home and, dare she say, family. Reluctantly, she counted in even Ulabore, because frankly what other officer would have allowed Sergeant to formulate the plans for most operations they had?
Lucia had no romantic feelings for Sergeant. She didn't crave any physical contact with him, except a pat on the back with praise or maybe a hand on her shoulder when she needed reassurance, nothing more. She had never before met and never after would meet such a man, a man she adored and respected from the depths of her very soul.
From a perspective of time, Lucia realizes he was the only authority she's ever willingly deferred to. As long as she lived, she despised those in power, at the top of a societal pyramid as she knew they despised who they considered the lowly vermin, like her, back. But with Sergeant it was all completely different, because he genuinely didn't think of his soldiers as beneath him, rather he was one amongst them. For that Lucia looked up to him, listened to his orders and followed him with unshakeable trust.
And then the disaster unexpectedly struck, unjustly robbing Lucia of what she most treasured in her heart, leaving behind desolation and burning embers of hatred.
The thrice damned operation on Phaseera.
The events there were deeply etched in Lucia's memory, impossible to erase and forget. She remembers her own feelings – being excited about a new mission, pleased when Sergeant opposed Ulabore and took over the command, awed when he singlehandedly, with closed eyes, shot all nine Republican troopers on the lookout, proud that the mission was flawlessly completed and the platoon didn't suffer any losses, all thanks to him. Not even once did she feel worry, convinced of her Sergeant's invincibility. She believed that he was untouchable.
What a fool she had been!
Then it all came crashing down, like a sandcastle washed away by a hurtling wave, as one critical, almost lethal blow was dealt to Gloom Walkers by the hands of their own estranged lieutenant.
Sergeant Dessel was arrested for insubordination and assault on his commanding officer. Lucia tried to argue on his behalf, as his actions saved the lives of the whole platoon and the mission ended successfully, but to the regulations it didn't matter whether he was right or wrong, only whether he obeyed the orders. No one in the higher chain of command cared that the orders in question would have unnecessarily led the platoon on a suicidal attack with extremely low chances of survival. Sergeant had to pay for his transgression.
Gloom Walkers helplessly observed as he was taken away to the main camp for a persecution. They all knew what it meant – that they would never see him again, his fate sealed because they stupidly left a few greenhorns to guard the bound Ulabore and prevent him from saying anything.
In the aftermath of Phaseera the words between comrades weren't needed, the credo drumming in their hearts dictated what actions to take later. The retribution was swift and surprisingly fulfilling as those judged guilty were silently ostracized and left to die on the next battlefields. Ulabore himself apparently didn't notice anything alarming, probably too busy thanking the Force there were no consequences for his ineptitude on Phaseera.
There could have been found many justifications for his betrayal – he was betrayed first, after all, but was he, really? His own cowardice, the fear he had of not following orders to the letter, brought this on him. If he valued his own life and reputation more than the lives of the whole platoon, he shouldn't have been surprised when they returned the sentiment.
Lucia remembers they were on Alaris Prime, retreating because they walked into ambush they could have easily avoided if not for their lieutenant's incompetency. Of course, Ulabore was fleeing first, not even looking back to see if they were keeping up with him. It was then Lucia made her decision.
She'd had enough of his cowardice.
So she moved right behind him and squeezed the trigger, sending a beautifully red spray of blaster bolts into his back. Ulabore screamed once – and the sound of agony in this scream was a music to her ears – before he toppled down.
Fifty pairs of eyes observed the execution calmly. Not a one pair of lips uttered words of protest.
Gloom Walkers moved on to take more advantageous positions and fight off the ambushing Republicans, their former lieutenant left in the mud to rot.
'… and when you're killed – they avenge you ten times over!' the words echoed in their heads.
Lucia remembers years of war after that as a long sequence of repetitions, forming a bloody cycle with no end in sight. In her mind she still sees the blinding volleys of blaster bolts, hears the deafening cannonade and bloodcurdling screams of the wounded laying in the ditches as thick clouds of smoke cloy her airways. She can't forget the everpresent scent of fear and despair, which slickened her body with sweat and made her tremble uncontrollably on too many occasions. There was no reassuring presence of Sergeant to lean on, only equally damp backs of her comrades.
These dark times were ruled by the overpowering terror but Lucia and the rest of Gloom Walkers couldn't afford to let it paralyze them, their defiance disallowing it a free reign over them. The Sith teachings became invaluable, transforming fear into anger and hatred towards the enemy, which propelled them into action. Lucia didn't care for the Force, Dark Sides and Light Sides, but for ensuring her own survival along with her comrades'. Right or wrong didn't have a place in this equation of life and death. She didn't think twice about taking a young, maybe sixteen-years-old Republican recruit's head in the sights of her sniper rifle and shooting a clean, round hole just between the eyes.
The end of war came suddenly during a clash on Ruusan, when the Brotherhood of Darkness's final suicide attack failed, taking almost no enemies along on a trip to hell. The Sith army, vulnerable and deprived of the highest command, quickly lost to the organized and led by the Jedi Republic forces. By that time the original Gloom Walkers, though regularly replenished by the less experienced troops who were always the first to die in combat, could be counted on the fingers of two hands. Seeing no sense or benefit in fighting for a lost cause started by the dead people, the platoon peacefully surrendered.
They were placed in a camp for prisoners of war and stayed there for long six months after the end of hostilities as the Republican Senate debated back and forth about the status of former Sith soldiers. Meanwhile, they were put to work, repairing and melding old machinery. It was an arduous job, with mostly food and medical supplies as their meager pay. As the time passed without the government reaching any sound decision, Lucia started coming up with plans to escape the camp, however the release was ordered before she put them into motion.
Lucia remembers as she and the rest of the Gloom Walkers were standing in the spaceport and saying their goodbyes.
'This is the end, I guess,' she tried to smile at them but couldn't hide the sadness. They smiled back uneasily, everyone barely grasping the fact they wouldn't probably see each other ever again. It was hard to believe they would be separated after all these years keeping company together and fighting side by side.
'Stop this sentimental crap right now,' Adanar, the next Sergeant after Dessel, snapped them back to attention. 'Gloom Walkers may be disbanded for good and we may be parting ways, but it doesn't mean our bond disappeared. It's still here, alive in our hearts an it will never break, just like Des was always saying. You all better stop moping, you're just going home!'
The group of veterans nodded, inspirited by the impromptu speech.
'Yes sir!' they chorused.
Adanar thumped his chest in their old gesture which they enthusiastically returned.
'Gloom Walkers, dismissed!'
With a last glance and smile, they dispersed, everyone heading for their own shuttle home. Lucia also turned to leave but Adanar stopped her.
'What about you, Lucia? Where will you go?' he asked, knowing that her home planet was out of the question.
She gave a pause, then answered thoughtfully. 'Does it matter? I'll go wherever the opportunity takes me. There's a whole galaxy to see.'
'Be careful out there.'
'You too. Don't worry about me, as long as I have this,' she patted the blaster pistol at her side,' those out there should look out for me, not the other way round,' she said cheekily.
'Very true,' he chuckled.
Lucia realized she had to hurry if she wanted to board her transport on time.
'Goodbye, Adanar!' she waved.
'Goodbye, Lucia! And good luck!' he called after her.
She raised her fist but didn't turn back.
It was a high time to start her life anew.
to be continued...
AN: Thanks for reading and please review! I'm open to all opinions, critiques, suggestions and advice.