Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Star Wars movies, TV series, books, comics or games. I don't own Gundam Seed or Gundam Seed Destiny. They all belong to their respective creators and/or copyright owners. I make no money from this story. It's not for sale or rent.


Chapter 5: From Balmorra with love

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Part 3

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37 Provisional Infantry Battalion CP

Staging Area Besh

Sobrik City

Balmorra

Nevoota system

A monstrous storm covered a significant part of Balmora and unfortunately for anyone stuck on the surface, that wasn't a unique state of affair. Fifteen years ago, reasonable stable ecosystem and more importantly intact weather control system made sure such a thing was a half-forgotten tale from the ancient past. The Imperial invasion and the battles that followed changed all that. In some respects, the last decade was even worse – the constant warfare and terrorism not only saw the utter annihilation of the weather control network but made any efforts to rebuilt it an expensive exercise in futility.

Superstorms hit Balmorra a few times each year now and despite all the destruction they wreaked, the Resistance loved them. Every time one formed, it locked down a large section of the planet and kept all but the largest Imperial aerospace assets at bay. The danger was extreme, yet when the Resistance chose to brave it they more often than not managed to cause painful blows to the Empire. In fact, just the storms by themselves were more than enough to cause significant damage and the population blamed the Imperials and their puppet government for not fixing the problem.

It was a win-win situation for the Resistance and people like Captain Jorge Arik were left to pick up the pieces. One of the Twi'lek's platoons went out of contacts moments before the storm hit. They were busy investigating a village hundred kilometres away from Sobrik's outskirts for Resistance activity and for all Arik knew, they were all already dead or worse, captured.

"Air's grounded until the weather calms down. At least eight more hours." The Battalion's Intelligence officer confirmed Jorge's fears.

The storm already either washed off or flooded all ground routes leading to that village leaving only air as available route to sent scouts and reinforcements. Thanks to all the toxic hell picked by the storm and practically weapon's grade lighting strikes raining all over the area, orbital surveillance was less than helpful. Arik's second platoon should still be in that village, it was another question if anyone there was still alive. That was all he knew and even when the storm abated... all available units would likely be too busy with disaster relief and fending off whatever nasty surprises the Resistance arranged for them.

Just the torrents of exceptionally nasty acid rain doing their best to drown Sobrik would take precious time, resources and manpower to fix. At least by now the Empire knew how to deal with that particular slice of hell. Arik would be forever grateful that he wasn't here when the first superstorm in a thousand years hit Balmorra.

"All I need to know is can I cut loose Third Platoon for SAR once the storm breaks?" The Captain asked.

"I can't give you a straight answer yet. Anyway, we won't be sending anyone in a potential trap before either air or orbital recon figures out what's happening out there. If we're lucky our boys and girls are merely hunkering down." Both of them knew the older human didn't really believed such a fable. Both of them were on Balmorra long enough to know better. "All I know for sure is that multiple outposts and two of our FOBs are currently under attack and we'll be scrambling to reinforce them ASAP." The Major scowled. "That village ain't of strategic importance. I'll speak with the Old Man but..." He shrugged.

"We're stretched so thin that the Republic can simply move in and won't even notice us if they catch the navy napping." Arik finished.

The armoured door leading outside clicked and began opening. The pair of officers as well as the security detail positioned nearby took notice. No one should be coming in given sorry excuse for a weather outside. Well, no one in their right mind anyway. The soldiers took cover and aimed at the entrance in case this was another suicide attack by the Resistance or even something more ambitious.

Instead, only a single armoured man walked in and he was dry of all things. The acid shower was still on – they could see poison green sheets of rain splashing outside.

"Thirty Seventh Provisional Battalion?" The man asked.

"Identify yourself, sir!" The Sergeant in charge of the checkpoint at the door demanded.

The stranger tilted his head then raised his left hand and did as instructed. A holographic crest appeared over his arm and series of electronic screeches followed – authorisation codes, Arik knew. The Captain frowned. That sigil, it was familiar. He leaned forward to take a closer look and it suddenly clicked. That one was associated with agents of the Dark Council! What in the Emperor's name did they do to deserve such an attention! That was never good!

"I need Lieutenant Malavai Quinn." The man, no Sith, because who else would be authorised to display such regalia, asked and Arik blanched.

It was Malavai's platoon that went missing. Various particularly nasty scenarios ran through the Captain's mind and in most of them he was in for a short and painful future.

As if reading his mind, the man sighed. "There are going to be complications..."


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I was pretty sure the Force was trying to tell me something. With the Dark Side crooning sweet nothings in the back of my head, I wasn't sure I wanted to really figure it out. There was no way my first official mission for Baras could go so wrong so fast without Force related shenanigans, right?

For a change, there was a small silver of good news – I ran right into Quinn's CO, who filled me in. While the news were naturally less than ideal, at least now I had a vague idea where Baras' agent went missing. I briefly wondered how many loops would I need to jump before I even began to have a vague idea where to find the next missing person I had to locate. Then I suppressed that though hoping that the Force didn't pay attention – I didn't want to give her ideas.

To my utter lack of surprise, there were more bad news. Because otherwise it would be too easy.

"What do you mean you can't send anyone to find Quinn?" I snapped at the Major.

"All assets we have are either grounded or already tapped." He said after leading me to the operations room. The Major pointed at a large holographic map of the continent. Multiple sites were either out of contact or under attack. A handful of them had either a frigate or corvette providing very close fire support.

Thinking about it, I saw just a handful of light ships in orbit and those were primary light cruisers. I seriously doubted that the navy would bring down another ship just on my say so. While as Baras' Apprentice I did have a large latitude to requisition support, that power had firm limits. One day I may be trusted to call in the fleet but it wasn't today.

"Get a platoon geared up and have them report to private hangar C-31, bay A-4 ASAP. My ship can fly through that mess outside. We're going to see if anyone's still alive in that village."

For some arcane reason I wasn't looking forward for a potential fight in the middle of the storm while taking an acid shower. That was something new I've been fortunate not to experience until now. Because misery loves company, I was going to pick up Vette from the hospital where I left her to babysit our Imperial Agent. The last thing I needed right now was for that girl to go missing too. On second thought, perhaps it might be better to leave my minion in place unless taking acid baths was one of her fetishes.

If that was the case I was going to do my best to accidentally misplace her before leaving and heading back to Hutta.


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Part 4

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Resistance arsenal

Derlliin Village

Balmorra

"Makel, comms?" Lieutenant Malavai Quinn roared over deafening crescendo of blaster fire, torrential acid rain and lighting blasts that had more in common with an artillery barrage than anything nature should unleash upon a life-bearing world.

"Light jamming over the storm's interference! We're getting nothing through!"

Quinn swore and took a moment to take a stock of what was left of his platoon. Half his people were dead or too wounded to move, one fire team was cut off in a nearby building where they drove their walker into to avoid AT fire and what was left was holed up in and under a former vehicle repair yard. The only silver lining of their situation was that they would run out of bodies long before ammunition, because there was a vast bloody arsenal under their current location with enough weapons and ammo to outfit a whole damned regiment.

He still couldn't figure out if they got very lucky or really unlucky, because when they arrived, the place had only a skeleton crew with everyone out preparing to cause mischief during the expected storm. Locating the place was a sheer stroke of luck – the whole area was shielded well enough that even ship-grade sensors wouldn't have sniffed a thing, which in turn was the sole reason why such a place still existed mere hundred kilometres away from Sobrik.

If it wasn't for that shifty local who got Corporal Finis attention, this would have been just another routine sweep to remind the locals who was supposedly in charge around here.

That didn't work too well. As soon as his people found an entrance to the arsenal, the edge of the storm hit and a jamming field went up. The locals used that as a sign and came out in force and the rest as they say is history.

Thunder clapped and the whole building shook. For a moment it seemed that the rain abated and the building echoed with someone's howls of pain.

"Poor bastard got their armour breached outside." Kreis, the platoon's designated medic shuddered but only after he moved his blood-drenched hands from the wounded trooper he worked on.

"We're running out of medicine." Quinn growled. With all his remaining men deployed holding the perimeter he allowed himself a few minutes to help patch up the wounded to the best of his ability. He knew he was one of the best and more experienced combat medics on Balmorra, however none of that made much difference. Malavai wasn't an actual miracle worker and there wasn't much he could do without more equipment, like the one that got blown up, burned and then drenched in acid along with his command walker.

"LT, bastards preparing another push. We can use a hand here." Sergeant Zilva, the Platoon's senior and only still alive NCO shouted from the front of the building.

"I'm on my way." Malavai shouted back. He looked back at the man he was treating. If he had any more proper medicine left, Private Irina would live. As it was... He cursed up a storm in his mind. She was a good kid. Loyal, eager and able to learn. Had a bright future in front of her, family who supported the Empire and now was going to die in this forsaken hell because command couldn't send enough men and equipment to Balmorra. "Sorry, kid." Quinn muttered and gave her the last painkillers he had left. At lest he could make her last hour or so relatively comfortable.

If they lasted that long.

The Lieutenant brushed his hands off blood on a nearby rag, picked up a rifle he took earlier from a shot soldier and ran to the front.

"How much trouble are we in, Zilva?"

"We're kriffed." The middle aged woman spat. "It's hard to tell in that mess but I think they got reinforcement. I'm seeing too much movement for those two companies we shot the hell up."

"That's less than ideal. We set to go?" Quinn grimaced at the idea. They all knew what would happen if the Resistance got anyone alive. Running outside without armour to drench in the acid would be much less painful and faster.

"Oh, yeah. They'll see it from orbit I recon."

"That's fine. At least those maniacs won't be around to kill more of our people."

"Damn right. Incoming!"

Two heavy repeaters opened up and heavy blaster bolts scythed through the rain. Raged rifle fire added to the suppressive barrage and Resistance fire-teams rushed the Imperial position.

"Those know what they're doing." The Sergeant growled between aimed burst of fire. "Suppressive fire, fire and movement by fire-teams. Nothing like the idiots who hit us earlier."

"That's not exactly a good thing, Zilva." Malavai deadpanned. Were these the new reinforcements or did someone outside grow a brain and use the fodder to soften up their position? It didn't really matter.

Quinn nailed an unusually well equipped soldier with a burst in the chest and the cheeky bastard just staggered when his armour ablated under the punishment. If it wasn't for the acid downpour he would have been all right too. However, with its outer layers gone, the toxic sludge pouring from the skies was more than enough to burn through the damaged armour and the man collapsed to the ground howling as his flesh got stripped from his ribcage.

The Resistance lost more people, but they were coming strong and Malavai's soldiers didn't come untouched either. The makeshift barricades they piled up at every entrance gave up under repeated blaster fire or well aimed grenades, more fire-teams rushed in and in the ensuring melee everything went to hell.

"Back!" Malavai shouted when he saw a grenade coming their way. He grabbed the Sergeant's tactical rig and dragged her away, while she continued to pour shot after shot at the street outside.

Sound. Pressure. Stars and pain. Quinn blinked at the ceiling and found it hard to breathe. Something heavy pressed on his chest and he scrambled to push the weight away. He did it too but for his trouble he got an elbow in the ribs. At least Zilva was still alive.

Malavai rolled to the side and got his side-arm up, just in time too. His remaining people were falling back deeper in the building firing as they moved and dragged wounded back with them. More concussion grenades flew inside. He snapped his eyes shut and curled into a ball in time for another blast-wave to wash over him.

When the world began to make sense again, there were multiple Resistance fighters rushing in and exchanging fire with whoever was still left from his platoon. Good. Lure the bastards in and when they were overran, Kreist would set off the charges. It was less than ideal but what else was there?

Quinn looked around for a weapon, he wasn't just rolling on his back and waiting to get shot, when an armoured boot slammed in his ribs and sent him skidding over the floor.

"Imperial scum." A huge armoured man towered above him. He had a repeating blaster in his hands and the SAW looked like a toy in his large hands. "Where's your Empire now, eh? What about your Sith buddies?"

Malavai answered by springing to his feet and pulling out a vibroblade. The Resistance fighter turned out to be very agile for his size and all Quinn accomplished was to get thrown into a massive raft. He felt a rib crack and then various rusty parts rained over him.

The whole building shook when more lighting bolts struck the village and when the thunder passed on, Quinn could hear no more fighting.

"Are you going to be a nice little Imperial and surrender now?" The huge man taunted. "There are no Sith to save you now!"

Malavai glared defiantly and grabbed one of the parts that fell on him. He would be damned if he left himself die on his knees.

"Are you sure about that?" A rough voice sounded from behind the giant. Lighting struck again but it sounded somewhat off.

"What?!" The Resistance fighter tried to turn around but suddenly froze when a red glowing blade erupted from the middle of his chest. He gurgled and left his weapon fall on its strap. His fingers closed around the blade only to fall on the ground severed before it was withdrawn and it flashed in a short arc. The huge man fell to his knees, his armoured head tumbled to the floor and only now Malavai could see his rescuer.

There was a Sith standing right there and behind him he could see Imperial soldiers checking the bodies of Resistance fighters who never knew what hit them.

Then it clicked. Those last lighting strikes were actually weapons fire that had to clean up the enemy outside and their rescuers used the thunder of the explosions to mask their entrance.

"You have my thanks, my Lord." Malavai got to one knee and bowed his head in submission. Yet again his faith in the Empire was rewarded.

"Lieutenant Malavai Quinn?" The Sith asked.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good. After coming all this way to fetch you, it would have been bothersome to find you got yourself killed. Try not to make a habit of needing rescue, am I clear, Quinn?" The Sith sounded tired and on the end of his patience.

"Of course not, my Lord!" This was just the second time in his career!

"Get your men prepared for transport. We're laving ASAP." The Sith ordered. "Don't get yourself killed now, Baras and I have a need for you."

Malavai's eyes sparkled at the mention of his Lord and benefactor. A few days ago he got a message to expect a pick-up by Baras' new apprentice. He frowned at that thought. Needing rescue couldn't have done a good impression and that was never a good thing.