Star Wars: Rebels: World At War
Disclaimer: Star Wars Rebels and all Star Wars characters and Lore are not my property, as they are all owned by Lucasfilm and the Walt Disney Company.
A/N: Welcome back everyone! This finale took longer than expected to write and turned out longer than any chapter I've written in awhile. In fact, it was originally too long in comparison to the others, so I decided to split some of it into a separate epilogue, which for all intents and purposes will be a short Chapter 11. And now, the final battle for Ryloth resumes!
Warning: This chapter contains scenes depicting intense violence as well as character death, and one that alludes to sexual assault. So, with that in mind, reader discretion is advised.
Chapter 10: Sacrifices
It was significantly quieter than usual back at the Imperial outpost in the Tann Province. When Colonel Kosh had personally set out for Zylema Pinnacle, he took roughly four out of five of the personnel with him. While the colonel retained only a single squad as his personal guard to lure the Twi'leks and their allies into a false sense of security inside the primordial rock formation, a full battalion remained on standby out of sight in the foothills a safe distance away, just in case reinforcements were required for a contingency plan in the event Commander Volker Nostromo and the Wingguard lost the element of surprise. Captain Oraneyius Slavin had been left in command of the skeleton crew that remained to hold down the fort.
Just as bitter as when his reassignment had first been announced, the pompous Imperial officer was none too pleased with being relegated to yet another third rate assignment while Kosh and Volker were off leading the Empire to victory over his most hated, more accomplished nemesis, Cham Syndulla. The latter had frustrated and humiliated him at every turn, and now at the moment of truth, Slavin wouldn't even be able to bear witness to Syndulla's undoing and ultimate demise. The colonel had told him he was to be left deep behind friendly lines where he was 'significantly less likely to mess things up yet again' in those exact words, which incensed the captain further. He stewed in his loathing and self-pity as he briskly walked down the hall towards the interrogation chamber.
Time and time again the Twi'leks had left him looking like a fool in front of his Imperial peers and superiors. As far as Slavin was concerned, it was past time he collect some recompense. He allowed himself to form a malignant grin as the door to the chamber slid open.
"Numa, right? Yes, you'll do just fine."
Meanwhile, elsewhere inside the outpost, the favored mercenary of Imperial officials had finished counting his pay and packing up the equipment he'd brought in from his ship outside. Having already made two trips to and from Slave I, Boba Fett was about ready to head out. The infamous Mandalorian bounty hunter already had his next several job offers lined up, and it would be rude to keep prospective employers waiting.
As he passed through the corridor that led to the interrogation chamber, he stopped. Perhaps it was his warrior's intuition, or maybe it was his heightened level of awareness, both obtained from years of training with his father, but Boba turned his head to glance at the door that led to the chamber. Something wasn't right. That much he could tell, even if he couldn't see it. Using the access code Volker had shared with him, the Mandalorian opened the door, and what awaited him inside was almost enough to make him recoil in disgust.
Without the soundproofed barriers to conceal them, Numa's cries and screams reverberated through the chamber and out the doorway and into the corridor. With his back to the door, Slavin had climbed over her from where she lay restrained on the torture rack. He had forcibly removed most of the meager scraps of clothing she'd been afforded as a prisoner, and was now unbuckling his pants, paying no heed to her panicked protests as tears formed in her eyes. Repeated interrogation sessions with both physical and mental torture as well as mind-crippling chemical injections had taken their toll. Still, the Mandalorian took note that her tears remained unshed. Even now, she refused to break completely. Such strength was admirable.
Still, with his own mind focused on the moment at hand, Boba had seen enough. It was over in a matter of seconds as he pulled out his modified blaster rifle, took aim, and shot the would-be rapist through the back, taking care to delicately angle his line of fire as to not hit the woman on the other side. With wide eyes and a quick, weak, pained gasp, Slavin crumbled off of his would-be victim and fell to the floor, dead. The lone blaster bolt had burned through his heart and right lung.
Numa watched in stunned silence as the son of the previous Mand'alor lowered his still-smoking rifle, silently walked over to redress her and release her restraints, reach down to retrieve the dead Imperial and sling the latter over his shoulder, and walked out without a word. For the first time in weeks, the young woman's fate was in her own hands once again.
An explosion rattled the peak of Zylema Pinnacle. The blast took out a thin section of the carved out interior of the pinnacle, and through the smoke and dust two figures locked in a fierce melee duel emerged. General Cham Syndulla and Commander Volker Nostromo appeared evenly matched, a contest been strength, skill, willpower, and a vibroblade and a force pike. Their vicious, hardened gazes met more than once between each hack, slash, thrust, dodge, and parry, the mutual focus unshakable and ferocity unwavering. Now on one of the outer ledges on the top levels of the primordial rock formation, Cham carefully angled their footing to place himself between Volker and the breach he'd just created with his last thermal detonator. It didn't take long for the Imperial to catch on as, while dodging blasterfire through the smoke, Hera and the remaining Rebel soldiers and Twi'lek freedom fighters ran out onto the ledge as well.
"Father!" Cham heard his daughter's voice from over his shoulder, and he didn't take his eyes off of his foe as he gave further instructions.
"I've got this handled, Hera! Get the others to safety, now!"
"Right away!" she nodded with furrowed brows, and with that she and the others were on their way further down the ledge, towards a readily-visible ramp that led to the next level down. The Imperial officer couldn't help but express his approval at the elder Syndulla's quick thinking.
"Of course, very noble, and yet a wasted effort. Our target was always you, but surely you know that at this point."
"As long as but one survives, no cause is lost," Cham retorted, unmovable in his conviction.
"Even the most venomous of serpents loses their bite once their head is cut off," Volker countered, very much the same. He continued, "However, I spared another defector I faced a few months ago on the Fourth Moon of Yavin. Like you, he was also determined to fight to the death. I am willing to extend the same courtesy to you, as I would prefer not to have to kill you. Surrender, and face the Emperor's justice. I'm sure terms for your people can be negotiated."
"I've seen more than enough of the 'Emperor's justice.' This can only end one way!" Cham fired back, disgusted at the mere suggestion of abandoning his cause. Volker nodded in silence, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment. With nothing more to be said, the duel resumed. Off in the distance in the light of the setting sun, three Imperial gunships under TIE fighter escort approached.
Two levels below, back inside the interior of the towering rock formation, another duel continued unabated. Kanan and Antiochus fought blade-to-blade with their single hilt lightsabers, Ataru form versus Makashi form, respectively. As the four Adherents who'd been hurled against the rock walls gathered their wits and returned to their feet, they reignited their lightsaber polearms and quickly moved to join their master in his fight, but upon sensing their approach from behind him, he dismissed them with his free hand.
"I've got this handled. Fan out, seek and destroy his compatriots, and any other unbeliever who dares to cross your paths." With the Supreme Overseer's command spoken, the Adherents all nodded in unison and moved to carry out their orders without a word. No words were necessary for those who'd taken the solemn oath, just their devotion to the cause.
"No!" Kanan shouted, knowing the disadvantage his wife and the others would be in within close quarters, but a saber lock from Antiochus kept him in place.
"I'm your opponent, Jedi. A single misstep can and will get you killed," the leader of the Society warned, darkly.
"It's not my life that most concerns me," Kanan replied through grit teeth.
"I know, and that means nothing." The saber lock was broken, and with that the duel between two experts in the Force resumed as well. Belief versus belief, life versus life, silver blade versus blue blade.
Volker let out a startled yelp as he hit the floor, having left himself open long enough for quick maneuver from Cham. His force pike clanged as it landed and rolled slightly away beside him. The elder Syndulla had used both blade and foot, cutting across his foe's chestplate and knocking the Imperial's feet out from under him. If it weren't for his armor, Volker would likely be bleeding profusely right now. Displaying his honed reflexes, he gathered his bearings and rolled out of the way of the sword Cham thrust into the rock where he had been laying a split second later.
Retrieving his weapon and returning to his feet in time to block another swing of Cham's vibroblade, the Imperial BlackOps Commander was at last able to counter his enemy's attacks once more. He already knew the leader of the Twi'lek resistance was striking with the intent to kill, and another mistake would likely cost him his life. Creating an opening, Volker carefully angled his footing and thrust his pike forward once more, forcing Cham to dodge it as intended. The moment the latter regained his own footing, he had to block the pike once more in a split second.
With Cham's attention focused on the tip of the spear, Volker seized the chance he created, and angled the shaft of the pike around, bashing the elder Syndulla over the head with the weighted pommel on the opposite end of the shaft. Cham let out a startled, pained shout as his spit was knocked out of him, but he choked back a pained gasp a second later as the pike was thrust straight through him, puncturing his own outdated chestplate and impaling him just below the heart. It was a serious and debilitating blow, and one that brought the duel to an end as quickly as it had begun. Volker wasted no time, kicking the vibroblade out of Cham's grip and sending him to the floor, though keeping the pike stuck through him for the moment. The Imperial officer also retrieved his enemy's sidearm blaster pistol, just in case.
Gritting his teeth through the pain, Cham turned his head to look at his victorious foe as the latter pulled a medical kit from his utility belt. He groaned and cleared his throat, weakly.
"W-why are you doing this? This… this was supposed to be… to the death."
"When I pull my weapon out, there will be nothing to stop the bleeding," Volker warned, ignoring his enemy's protest. "Just to make sure you don't interfere while I bandage you up, these will be necessary," he retrieved a pair of binders from his belt as he elaborated.
"Why are you doing this?!" Cham roared in confusion and anger, finally drawing the Imperial's attention. Looking the elder Syndulla straight in the eyes, the Imperial field commander gave his answer.
"A terrible, unprovoked atrocity was committed against your people earlier today, and though I didn't want it to happen, I am complicit in it. The empire I call home owes your people restitution, the likes of which we can probably never truly repay. Still, I'm going to try, and not killing their hero seems to be a good enough place to start."
Suffice to say, Cham Syndulla was stunned into silence, and remained that way as Volker continued his work.
Elsewhere, several levels down in another dugout corridor inside the Pinnacle, two of the four Adherents had successfully cut off Hera and the surviving Rebel soldiers and Twi'lek resistance fighters. More troopers from the Wingguard came up behind them, and a three-way fight had ensured. Literally caught between blasterfire and lightsaber blades, the Rebels and their allies were cut down one by one. Hera used her own grenade to collapse the tunnel behind them, cutting off the Imperials, but still leaving them with the two Adherents.
One of the two elite, cloaked enforcers used a Force-push to knock Hera to the floor and then proceeded to telekinetically tear her blaster pistol from her grip. The other bisected her last remaining subordinate, and then both moved in to finish her off.
The sound of a whirling blade of a lightsaber thrown at high speed through the Force drew the attention of the two veteran cultists, but too late for the one on the left as it took off his head in a nanosecond. The Adherent on the right was able to block it as it went for him next, but Kanan used his free hand to seize the former through the Force instead and slam him into the wall, stunning and disarming him long enough for Hera to retrieve her blaster and shoot him dead. As his corpse fell to the floor and Hera returned to her feet, Kanan's pursuer arrived.
From behind his dragon skull mask, Antiochus' brow twitched and his eyes narrowed. The sight of two accomplished subordinates dead at his feet caused his mounting frustration to morph into prideful rage. He raised his own blade at the Jedi Knight and Rebel General, his tone dripping with barely-restrained fury as he condemned them.
"Such foolishness, such arrogance, must be punished!"
"I take this guy is the one in charge of those robed freaks?" Hera drolly inquired to her husband.
"What was your first clue?" Kanan replied to his wife in a like manner.
"Enough!"
At that moment, Antiochus flung out his left arm and hand, blasting a large hole in the rock wall to the outside. He deactivated his lightsaber as he abruptly leapt out and used both hands to pull his opponents out with him, catching them off-guard. Kanan tugged Hera to him through the Force and held her close bridal style. He telekinetically cushioned their fall and came to a stop on a ledge on the lower levels of the Pinnacle. Antiochus did the same, but landed on the ground a considerable distance away, yet still in earshot. He reactivated his lightsaber as Kanan set Hera back on her feet, but they didn't miss his movements as he plunged it deep into the ground with both hands.
"I honed my power on the barren surface of Nanthema itself. I think a demonstration is in order!" the lifelong devotee of the Great Dragon cackled.
An unseen shockwave of Force energy surged out in all directions, causing the Jedi and Rebel officer to stumble back slightly on the ledge. Thankfully, not quite enough to send them over the edge. However, that wasn't the intention.
At that moment, the ground below began to tremble and quake as the Supreme Overseer retrieved his blade and leapt back to a safe distance. Pebbles bounced and rocks tumbled around as the Jedi Knight and Rebel General struggled to maintain their footing. As it cracked and splintered, dark purple light emanated from within the breaches, a telltale sign of ancient Sith sorcery.
"You came to this world seeking to create something different than what the Empire has in store, something new. However, creation cannot exist without destruction, and so now you will face destruction made manifest in physical form! Look now and reap what you have sown, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla! Oblivion awaits!" Antiochus finished with a proud cackle, just as two humongous, wrinkled, dark-grey, four-fingered fists smashed up and out of the barren, dry ground between them.
It was an ancient horror that slowly pulled itself out from the crevice. It distinctly resembled a rancor in shape, but its size was far greater and its facial structure more… malformed. Its two eyes and mouth emanated the same dark purple light pouring out from the crevice, and giant fangs surrounded by multiple rows of large razor-sharp teeth were clearly visible through the light in the latter as well. The creature's long, massive forelimbs were its most striking feature, as they led to the aforementioned fists which slowly unfolded and opened to reveal four gigantic fingers which ended in twisted, gnarled black claws.
"Kanan…" Hera reflexively took a step back as she started to alert her husband, dismay, even fear evident in her voice. There was no need, however, none to her surprise.
"I sense it… whatever that thing is, the Dark Side created it, or remade it…," he trailed off for a moment in thought, sensing they weren't in immediate danger, at least not just yet, "Cultmaster, how did you obtain knowledge of ancient Sith alchemy?!" Kanan called out to Antiochus, who merely chuckled darkly, mockingly.
"The Great Dragon Society has always been privy to knowledge Jedi like yourself consider forbidden. But words are no longer necessary, seeing as how both of you are about to die," outstretching his right hand and arm as he finished, the Supreme Overseer issued a silent command to the ancient horror in front of him, and it obeyed instantly.
Balling up both of its fists, the creature let out an earsplitting roar as he lunged forward and slammed its right hook into the base of Zylema Pinnacle, followed by its left hook. As it continued its motions, Hera called out in a panic to their foe who remained where he stood, observing the spectacle.
"Stop! This is a sacred place! You'll erase history!"
"Foolish unbeliever! There is no history but the one my one true master creates! Now just shut up and die! Hahahahahaha!" Antiochus' cackling gave way to a full blown laugh. The two remaining Adherents leaped off their own perches they'd arrived at near the upper level of the rock formation, and rejoined their superior. "Come, proven and faithful servitors, let us observe from a more preferable vantage point."
By now, the ancient horror was digging and tearing through the base of Zylema Pinnacle, compromising its structural integrity. Chunks of rock fell loose and gave way, tumbling off and down the side of the rock formation, crashing through the ledges and spiral walkways on the outside. Kanan knew it was only a matter of time before Hera and himself were hit on the ledge where they stood as well.
"We can't let this be how the battle ends!" Hera pleaded desperately, at a loss. She yelped as her husband wisped her up to carry her bridal style once again.
"Defeat may not be inevitable just yet, but we're definitely going down," Kanan informed her, his sightless gaze cast downward and off to the side, away from the creature. Hera just smiled knowingly at her husband.
As Kanan and Hera hurriedly yet carefully continued their descent, on the upper levels of the rock formation, Colonel Kosh and the surviving troopers from his personal guard boarded the lead gunship that had come to extract them. The supreme commander of Imperial forces on Ryloth made his escape, leaving Volker and the Wingguard to find their own way out.
"All units, evacuate! Clear the area immediately!" Volker hurriedly ordered to his company of BlackOps Jet Troopers over his personal comm unit. Sure enough, one by one, each of the elite Imperial soldiers emerged from inside the increasingly unstable rock formation and rocketed away using their winged jetpacks. Their commanding officer took comfort at the sight as he counted his subordinates while they each made their escape, until none were missing. Now he had only his life and that of the cuffed and bandaged Twi'lek resistance leader he was supporting on his arm. With the walkway beginning to give way under their feet and rocks falling all around them, the Imperial field commander knew it was now or never. "All right, Syndulla, I'm going to need you to hold on tight. We have no choice left but to lift off out of here ourselves."
"Whatever you say, Imperial…" Cham winced in pain, but accepted the offer of further assistance warily. Volker moved to help support his defeated opponent with both arms in preparation for their escape.
At that moment, the now hollowed-out base of Zylema Pinnacle buckled and gave way, and the entire towering, primordial rock formation began tumbling down. The resulting rockslide on the upper levels crashed directly into the two men almost instantly, breaking their hold on the other.
"Syndulla!"
Now caught in the pluming dust, as well as the falling rocks and debris, Volker quickly lost sight of the enemy he had made every effort to save. After being knocked around numerous times in the chaos, wincing at the feeling of some ribs cracking in the process, the Imperial officer finally activated his jetpack and made his own escape, but he never took his eyes away until the last chunk of rock was lost in the expanding dust cloud coming up from the ground. His eyes reflected nothing but helplessness, sorrow, and regret.
"Father! NO!" Hera screamed at the sight before her. Kanan had carried her to a safe distance and set her back on her feet before the Pinnacle came crashing down, enshrouding the lumbering aberration responsible in the dust cloud. Now she could only look on at what meant certain death for her father and anyone else still trapped inside. "Father… I'm sorry…" her voice cracked as she fell to her knees in despair. She let out a sob through unshed tears when Kanan knelt down beside her and pulled her into a tight embrace. The Jedi Knight was at a loss for words at first, but he finally collected his thoughts and tried his best to lessen his beloved's pain.
"I'm sorry, Hera. I- I can't sense anyone in there but the creature. I know he wouldn't blame you, though. You were following his orders, and if you'd gone back in there, you'd have suffered the same fate. He wouldn't have wanted that, he loved you very much. I know it."
He felt her nod meekly, her face buried in his chest. Interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of a pair of sublight engines, Kanan looked over to his left and focused intently through the Force. He could sense friendlies approaching and he was correct. The Crusader-class corvette that had brought the Clan Wren warriors to Ryloth was approaching, now filled to capacity with the Mandalorians alongside the other surviving Rebel soldiers, Twi'lek resistance fighters, and Nimbus Commandos. The warship was followed closely by the Ghost, with Chopper at the controls.
It was less than a minute later when, through the billowing smoke that plumed high into the sky from the fires raging down below, the Crusader-class corvette blasted off with the Ghost flying alongside it.
"Angle forward deflector shields! The Imperials will be waiting for us in orbit!" Hera relayed to Tristan and Cirro over the comm. The fire in her voice had returned, though it was weaker than before.
"Copy that, general!" Tristan's reply came over from the corvette.
"Done and done, general!" Cirro added.
"He's right behind us, Hera. We-," Kanan didn't get to finish before he and his wife were both nearly flown from their seats into the controls or viewport in front of them.
Both the Ghost and the Mandalorian vessel alongside them had come to a halt, the gnarled black claws of the Monolith sinking into the aft ends of both ships. The creature was using both hands, its immense strength holding them in place and threatening to tear the engines from both starships. Kanan could sense its intent to kill.
"Reroute power to the sublight drives! Full throttle!" the Twi'lek general instructed their allies as she did the same. Just a few seconds of effort proved it was futile.
"It's not working! Kriff it, our rear cannons are still offline!" the son of Clan Wren was beginning to sound panicked in spite of himself. At the same time, Chopper attempted to fire the topside turret at the giant fingers holding the Ghost in a death grip, to no avail. Slowly but surely, the Monolith began pulling both starships back towards the ground, letting out a vicious, reverberating roar as it did so. It would tear the ships apart and devour everyone inside at first opportunity.
"Hera?" Kanan asked after a long, foreboding moment of thought.
"Not now, love!" Hera retorted sharply, "Maybe a hyper thrust would work! It would drain most of our remaining fuel and probably trap us here, but it may be our only option!"
"HERA!"
"WHAT?!" with clenched teeth and seething, fearful eyes, Hera glanced up at her husband, who had stood up from his seat beside her. He leaned in close, removing his mask so she could see the severity and love in his sightless orbs. Suddenly he closed the distance between them with a hurried, passionate kiss, completely stunning her. When he pulled back with a side smile, she watched him in a daze with lips still pursed, completely caught off-guard by his expression and actions.
"Take care of Dawn. I love you both so much. I'm sorry."
"Kanan... KANAN! WAIT!"
Before he could stop himself to give it a second thought, Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight, ascended to the top of the Ghost through the upper access hatch, and with a small nod over his shoulder to a befuddled Chopper in the turret, drew and activated his lightsaber. He lifted the shimmering blue blade up over his head with both hands, and let out a defiant shout as he leapt off the stern of the ship. The soulless black eyes of the Monolith caught sight of him for only an instant, and the last padawan heaved his blade down in a tremendous, Force-empowered cleave that carved right through the left eye and down the face of the ancient horror. It howled in pain and rage, reflexively releasing its grip on the two starships. They blasted away at high speed, their engines still at full wasn't long before they had several squadrons of TIE fighters pursuing on his feet with his back to the Monolith, Kanan turned to face the towering behemoth. He could sense its hatred and rage as it stared down at him with its remaining eye. His own unmasked, unseeing eyes held no expression, but the corner of his mouth twisted upwards in a rebellious, confident smirk.
"Hello there."
The Monolith took a step forward, its massive shadow cast over the Jedi, and it roared in unrelenting fury, raising its right hand and readying its claws. The Force-imbued shockwave from the roar kicked up the dirt and pebbles on the desert floor around Kanan, and he almost stumbled back. However, he maintained his footing and the tight grip in his lightsaber with both hands, then proceeded to take a step forward as well, showing the creature he wouldn't back down. With fangs bared, the Monolith closed in, and the final student of the old Jedi Order surged forth, ready for one last fight.
As the last fight of the battle began down on the surface of Ryloth, the upper atmosphere of the planet was now seeing its own share of the action. The Ghost and the Crusader corvette were continuing through their exit corridor, albeit with gunners firing on the couple dozen TIE fighters hot on their tails. The Imperial pilots maneuvered their best to avoid incoming laser bolts as they kept up their own attack volleys. Still, with shields holding strong on both enemy craft and the handful of Victory frigates spread around in orbit out of range, it looked as though the Rebels and Mandalorians had a clear escape route in their tactical retreat. However, falling back was now the last thing on Hera's mind.
"Tristan, Cirro, take your troops and the other survivors and get out of here! I'm going back for Kanan!"
"With respect, general," the Jabiimi rebel leader's protest began after a moment, "I don't think we'll be able to create an opening in time."
"Besides, our scanners detect multiple Imperial frigates inbound just up ahead," the older brother of Sabine gave his own input, "They'll block your escape if you turn back now!"
"You let me worry about that!" the Twi'lek General wasn't going to be swayed. "Now stay on course and jump to hyperspace at first opportunity! That's an order!"
Though the situation had already gone from bad to worse, things became grim in almost in instant as Imperial reinforcements dropped out of hyperspace. Several Imperial II Star Destroyers, over a dozen Victory frigates, and over two dozen Tartan and the newer Raider patrol ships. The unique paint design on the command ship in the formation revealed just who was leading this detachment from the 7th Fleet.
"It's the Chimaera!" Cirro recognized the flagship instantly. This was his first time seeing her in-person, but like a dutiful lieutenant to his own superior, he'd researched known Imperial command vessels as information archived by Separatist holdouts allowed. At this point, the TIE fighters that had been giving chase broke off their attack, their assistance no longer needed.
"Thrawn…" Hera muttered with disgust. "Damn bastard must've been waiting just out of sensor range!" she realized with a growl, but her anger faded to panicked realization as hundreds of more TIE fighters and TIE Interceptors poured out of the Star Destroyers. There definitely was no mistaking it: the exit corridor for the Rebels and their allies was now cut off.
"Take evasive action, now!" Tristan ordered immediately, knowing they would be swarmed in a matter of seconds.
And indeed, it probably was with less than five seconds to spare when a second fleet dropped out of hyperspace. The familiar designs and insignia left no doubt as to the identity of the new arrivals. For his part, Cirro recognized his own instantly. In a rare display of relief and enthusiasm, he excitedly heralded their arrival.
"Admiral Zalveniad! Haha, I knew my superior officer wouldn't leave us behind!"
By now, the TIE squadrons of the 7th Fleet were upon the Rebel and Mandalorian vessels, but the sudden arrival of the largest Separatist holdout fleet to be assembled in the post-Clone Wars era warranted immediate attention from the Imperials. With Vulture droid fighters, Tri-droid fighter-bombers, and droid gunships being deployed from the Providence carrier/cruisers, the Intrepid superdreadnought rotating into firing position with her ion pulse cannon, and the Munificent frigates and Recusant destroyers moving to cover their larger counterparts, another full-scale naval battle was imminent. It wasn't long before the Chimaera and the rest of the Star Destroyers and Victory frigates began moving to meet their attack. Roughly three quarters of the TIE squadrons broke off their attack pattern to meet their new foes as well. All the while, the gunners on the Rebel and Mandalorian ships kept up the necessary return-fire against the TIE's that weren't recalled.
"General Syndulla, I trust you're not dead?" came the mirthful voice of the middle-aged Arkanian admiral over the comm frequency on the Ghost. Said Twi'lek pilot couldn't help but roll her eyes at the remark, but she quickly gave her reply.
"Admiral Zalveniad, how pleasant of you to join us. You've definitely got the attention of their larger ships, but the Imps are still blocking our exit route with their anti-fighter vessels, and our shields won't hold against them with sustained fire from these damned TIE's!"
"Way ahead of you, general. I recommend you and our mutual associates proceed to these coordinates I'm transmitting to both of your navicomputers as we speak in approximately thirty seconds. Otherwise, neither of you will be going anywhere anytime soon," as the Separatist naval officer finished, it only took a moment for Hera's eyes to widen in realization.
Indeed, the ion pulse cannon on the Intrepid was almost turned completely dead-center in front of her ship and the one of her allies on her right. It was surging and crackling with energy, indicating it was already charged at maximum. By now, the Imperial and Separatist capital ships were exchanging volleys, and the dogfights between their fighter craft had begun as well. The sublight drives on the Imperial warships in the immediate area flared to life, but it was obvious none of them would get clear in time.
"Tristan, Cirro, I take it you both got all that? Ten seconds and counting!"
"Affirmative, general!" the son of Clan Wren acknowledged.
"Five and counting!" Cirro added and updated.
As forewarned, the cannon fired not a second too soon. The ion pulse began rapidly expanding into an arc just as before, engulfing and shutting down the critical systems of every Imperial warship caught in it. The pre-programmed droid brains of the Separatist fighter craft and gunships enabled timely evasion of the arc. For their own part, the Imperial TIE pilots had mixed results. Angling their noses down, the pilots at the controls of the Ghost and the Crusader corvette had less than a second to spare but were also successful in avoiding the ion pulse. None of their TIE pursuers or the Imperial patrol ships which had moved to intercept them were as fortunate. Their way out was clear once more. Still, with the immediate danger contained, Hera again couldn't help but hesitate at the prospect of retreating, herself.
"Get the survivors to safety, admiral, and I understand if you have to pull your ships back, but I'm going back to the surface. It's… for personal reasons."
"With respect, General Syndulla, I'm afraid I must insist you evacuate with the rest of us," Admiral Zalveniad calmly and readily protested the notion, "Minister Mothma was very specific: she wants you extracted alongside the rest of our coalition."
"To hell with the Minister!" Hera barked back, her patience wearing thin and telltale desperation settling in, "Kanan is still down there! He's facing some kind of aberration created by the Dark Side of the Force, alone, and I refuse to leave him behind!" Her voice started to crack during the last sentence. The reality of the situation was unmistakable.
"General Syndulla, I understand your concern and sympathize with your plight, but this is no longer about you or your husband," the Arkanian tried reasoning with her, not fazed in the slightest by her outburst, "Your combat expertise and tactical mind are both vital to the war effort against the Empire. Rebel Command knows they can't afford to lose you, and frankly as an ally of your cause I agree. And besides, think of your daughter. It remains to be seen if she'll grow up without a father, but if you turn back now, you risk leaving her as an orphan. Please, general, you know there's only one right decision to make, here."
Several long, tense moments passed in comm silence, but the Ghost wasn't turning around as Hera indicated. Zalveniad didn't move or shift his gaze off the heavily-modified Rebel craft from where he stood on the bridge of his flagship, even as the latter and the frigates guarding her kept up their rate of fire on the Imperial fleet in the distance. Choking back a sob as tears streamed down her face, the Twi'lek pilot finally made her decision, though it obviously was one she never wanted nor ever imagined she would have to make.
"I'm sorry, Kanan," she whispered in her sorrow before clearing her throat and replying in a tone as professional as she could muster, "Very well. Maintain our opening just a bit longer, admiral. The second we're clear, we'll jump to hyperspace. Copy that, Tristan, Cirro?"
"Yes, general!" the son of Clan Wren affirmed instantly.
"Acknowledged, general!" the Jabiimi Separatist commander did the same.
It was less than a minute later when the Rebel and Mandalorian vessels cleared the range of the Imperials, the last of their TIE pursuers either shot down or forced to break off to defend themselves. Their hyperdrives hummed to life and they both jumped a moment later, leaving the CIS remnant armada to make its own escape.
"All forces, fall back! Prepare for immediate jump to hyperspace at the predesignated coordinates!" the Arkanian admiral ordered, and every Separatist warship, fighter, bomber, and gunship obeyed. Once more the sublight engines of the CIS fleet flared up, and one by one the warships began turning away from Ryloth and their Imperial foes. The carrier/cruisers were already prepped to receive the smaller craft.
"Sir, the enemy flagship is hailing us," one of the B-1 droids at their control station on the bridge alerted the admiral, who immediately recognized what it meant.
"Seems the Grand Admiral wishes to have a word with us. Put him through."
"Roger, roger!"
As predicted, a live holoimage of Grand Admiral Thrawn appeared out of the projector on the holotable in the center of the bridge on the Intrepid. The accomplished Chiss naval officer regarded his Arkanian counterpart as the latter approached.
"Ah, at last, Admiral Ralon Zalveniad. How long has it been since we last spoke?"
"You were still a Vice Admiral, as I recall. You've certainly done well for yourself," Zalveniad mused, his tone cautious yet respectful.
"I could say the same for you. I daresay if it weren't for your ion pulse cannon, your fleet would have been at a disadvantage facing my superior firepower," Thrawn stated, his own tone suggesting amusement and confidence.
"Oh I assure you, I have more than one trick up my sleeve, Grand Admiral," the leader of the CIS remnant clarified.
"And I don't doubt it, Admiral. Regardless, this battle is over, and you've won the day. I look forward to our next engagement, which I can't imagine will be too far off given the current state of the war."
"I agree, and likewise."
The two veteran naval officers shared a bow in mutual respect. It was only a few short minutes before the Separatist fleet cleared the range of the Imperials and followed their allies into hyperspace.
As news of the Rebellion's rout on Ryloth and Hoth spread throughout the Galaxy, Rebel Command did their best to censor any information regarding the loss of Kanan. Already on the heels of two major defeats, morale among the rank and file was already at a low not seen since the loss of Alderaan. Of course it was inevitable that word would get out eventually, but the hope was it could be stalled long enough as to not compound the precariousness currently facing the entire war effort against the Empire.
All the while, elsewhere in the Outer Rim on "The Smuggler's Moon" of Nar Shaddaa, the same heavily-modified J-Type Nubian Yacht that had ferried Antiochus and his personal enforcers to Ryloth touched down in a hangar bay built into the high rise over Meridian Hall. The boarding ramp lowered and extended, and the Supreme Overseer of the Great Dragon Society and the two remaining Adherents from the unit he brought with him walked out and down onto the hangar floor. They walked between two rows of more Adherents currently serving their duties as an honor guard. Out of the corner of his eye, Antiochus spotted an unfamiliar transport that was currently being serviced by a crew of engineers and labor droids from the Society. It was a GX-1 Short Hauler, clearly modified for combat and reinforced for long-range, deep space transport. As if on cue, a Disciple ran up in front of him, bowed in respect, and answered his unspoken question for him.
"Supreme Overseer, your exaltedness, welcome back! The Speaker of the Dragon expects you in the conference room inside the base, sir!" The revelation caught Antiochus off-guard, and it took a moment for him to collect his thoughts and reply, his tone even and neutral.
"Very well. Please send word I'll be along immediately."
"Right away, sir!"
A/N: Chapter 11, the epilogue, will be ready later this week. After all, our favorite young Jedi and Mandalorian couple have yet to learn what transpired while they were on a separate mission.
Once again, a most sincere thank you to my tireless beta reader, Wikked Grin, and to each and every one of you for your continued support and willingness to share your thoughts via reviews. I look forward to concluding another installment and beginning yet another in this ongoing series with you all. :)
Edit: I decided to add a bit more substance to the second scene with Numa, as I felt it didn't adequately portray her own point of view as much as it did for Boba.