Chapter 9
Salvation
Authors Note 1: Thank you again everyone for your reviews. I agree with S058, don't worry I will not make the Imperium seem useless, just wait a few chapters to see the proof, and thanks too Amir-015 on tactics for the Alliance to use against the Imperium, exactly what I was going to think off, just needed a second opinion.
Authors Note 2: As for the small debate on Warhammer Starighters and bombers; thank you all on your opinions, and I would agree with the fact that most Warhammer starfighters would be these bulky ships needing three or more people to pilot. But what I don't get is how some people see that as superior to single piloted Starfighters with an astromech. In my opinion it would be like the Battle of Britain, where bulky German bombers would fight off against agile Spitfires and Hurricanes, anyone who thinks the bigger the better for dogfights it just plain daft, the bigger they are the bigger the target. I will be having single seated Starfighters for this, but how effective they will be is still up for debate.
Author's Note 3: Star Wars and Warhammer are the property of Lucas Arts and Games Workshop respectively. I make no profit from posting this story.
He pulled the trigger, only for the laspistol to explode. The Guardsman cried out in pain, clutching onto the blackened stump which was once his hand, slackening his grip on his hostage. The girl took her chance and threw her head back, impacting against her captor's nose with an audible crack. Gabriel's eyes returned to their usual brandy brown.
"Duck," he shouted, watching as the girl did so, revealing her stumbling attacker to him. Gabriel reached out with his hand, sending the Traitor flying across the hold and through the steel door, whose hinges gave way, into the cockpit with a bone crushing crack.
Gabriel took a deep breath before relaxing his stance, and waving his hand gave the four Troopers permission to enter the Gunship. The four men flew past him and the cowering girl, making sure that the enemy soldier was truly dead.
The girl was curled up against the hull of the ancient vessel, shivering and whimpering. The Jedi looked at her for a brief moment before walking over, his shadow in the dim light causing her to dig her head further against her knees in fright. The poor thing was scared. He noticed her flinch and move further against the hull as he crouched down and offered her a hand.
He smiled reassuringly, "its okay, you're alright. He's not here to hurt you anymore."
She looked up at him, face streaked with shed tears, cutting through the grime on her face. Her piercing green eyes wide in fright seemed to look into his soul. That fear slowly turned to a glimmer of hope, hope that whatever horrors she was forced to endure were over. Timidly she reached out, taking his hand. She was shaking he realised as he carefully pulled her to her feet.
As she straightened he noticed just how dirty and ragged her form was, clothes barely clinging to her slender frame, dirt days old covered her exposed flesh like a second skin. Subtly he made her look up at him and smiled reassuringly. "See, what did I tell you? It's all going to be okay."
She looked at him, hope slowly lighting her once dull eyes, lips trembled, and tears flowed anew. She threw herself into him, embracing him and crying into his tunic. Gabriel, initially surprised, placed his arms around her and held her close, gently whispering assurances into her ear. It was then that he was assaulted by a wave of memories.
He saw exactly what she had been subjected too. She had been raped repeatedly by the Guards, and she had not been the only one. There were the bodies of another two women in the hold, naked with the burn of a lasround in their foreheads, faces etched with all the fear and pain they had felt in death. The Jedi Knights eyes hardened at the scene, before he went back to soothing the child.
He gently forced her to release him, and taking off his cloak threw it around her slender, beaten frame. The girl flinched as the heavy fabric of his robes settled on her shoulders, before looking up to see Gabriel's kind smile. "Come on, let's get you looked at."
Gently he led her out of the gunship and looked around to see a fresh unit of Gunships hit the deck, disgorging another Company of Alliance Troopers into the hanger. Alana looked around, seeing a squad of soldiers jog past, and gripped her saviour's tunic even tighter. Gabriel looked down, seeing the fear in her eyes.
He gave her a reassuring smile before leading her through the throng of arriving Alliance personnel, looking for a medic. He found one, a female Zeltron, fully garbed in a medical uniform, aide kit over a shoulder. He signalled her over, and watched as the girl eyed the approaching woman with wide eyed fear.
"Jedi Sabbath," the young woman greeted, noticing the girl. "What can I do for you?"
He felt her grip tighten again, and looking down he gave her yet another reassuring smile. "It's alright. She's not going to hurt you. She's going to look you over to make sure you're alright." He then looked back at the medic. "I found her in one of the Gunships. Her names Alana and I need you to check her out."
The woman nodded, before smiling softly at the girl. "Hello sweetie, my names Holly, what's yours?"
The girl, scared, looked her in the eyes and timidly replied. "Alana."
Holly reached out and took her hand, leading her from her protector. "She's in good hands Master Sabbath."
"Of that I have no doubt," Gabriel replied, giving her a brave smile before turning around and making his way towards one of the openings. Trusting in the force to guide him to where he would be needed first.
The firepower of an Executor-class Star Dreadnought was nothing to laugh at, with two thousand light Turbolaser cannons, two thousand heavy Turbolaser cannons, all set in groupings of eight, two hundred and fifty heavy Ion cannons, five hundred point defence laser cannons and two hundred and fifty missile tubes it was a behemoth of destruction. That offensive power was showing as its portside weapon batteries continued to pour weapons fire against the withering form of the enemy Cruiser.
The Slaughter-class Cruiser was the pinnacle of frontline warships in its day, but the eight kilometre capital-ship was being systematically taken apart by its nineteen kilometre long opponent. Most of its main lance batteries and point defence cannons were nothing more than twisted wrecks, void shielding had fallen, acrid black smoke escaped from several gaping wounds in its already charred armoured hull.
What's more the Star Dreadnoughts launched squadrons of X-wings, E-wings, TIE Interceptors, K-wing bombers and Skipray Gunboats had annihilated the Cruisers compliment of Switdeaths, and captured Fury Interceptors. The bigger and slower Chaos craft were no match for the smaller, faster and more manoeuvrable Alliance Starfighters.
"Gold, Viper and Krayt squadrons report that they have successfully crippled the first Frigate and are harrying the last one."
Gabriel looked on from his holotable, watching as the three K-wing squadrons continued to attack the seven hundred meter long Frigate, who was retreating from the skirmish. Point defence lasers firing streams of energy, creating a killing field around the large mobile fortress. Long range fire from the Guardians starboard side Turbolaser batteries, continuing to tax the much smaller vessels void shields to the limit.
"Casualties?"
"Five fighters downed, three pilots' dead, two in evac." Halos listened to the report from his chief communications officer. "Red, Green, Blue, Rapid and Vanguard squadrons report annihilating Cruiser fighter squadrons. Nine fighters destroyed, five pilots' successfully evacuated and awaiting rescue."
"Is it safe to scramble rescue operations?"
"I believe so sir,"
"Then scramble them,"
"Yes Admiral,"
A series of bright flashes signalled the loss of the Frigate's void shields, followed by a half dozen torpedoes piercing the armoured hull, destroying layers of armour and weapon batteries with each wave. Acrid smoke and quickly cut off flames rose up from several gaping holes in the escorts superstructure.
"That's two down," Halos muttered, before giving his full attention to the half destroyed Cruiser, still valiantly returning fire with what few weapon batteries still operable. "A few more minutes and we can make it a clean sweep. What news from the boarding force?"
"Our forces have taken the main landing bay with minimal casualties, and are now preparing to clear out the rest of the ship. Three Companies have successfully landed, as well as an additional Company of SpecForce, Master Sabbath and Knight Blue. Enemy response is light to moderate."
Even though they were under heavy attack by a small unit of well equipped, well trained pirates the men and women of the Hand of Salvation had one advantage over their adversaries. The ships blast doors were all hotwired to the vessels bridge, and when a failsafe was activated the ships internal blast doors were activated. Line after line of thick armoured doors closed, cutting off the Traitor Guardsmen and Chaos Space Marines from each other.
This was the third series of blast doors they had moved through, finding and purging disorganised, broken squads of enemy soldiers. Slowly they continued to clear out the Pirates, thankfully suffering minimal casualties from their own side. The only problem was that their opponents didn't know what the term 'surrender' meant. As far as she knew they had lost eighteen men and women in the skirmishes, killing three times as many enemy troopers as they had lost.
Dani jumped over the makeshift defences, azure blade of her lightsabre humming in her hands, and deflected a hail of lasfire as she advanced. The squad of Blood Pact continued to fire streams of lasfire at her, trying to overwhelm her with overwhelming firepower.
Help came in the form of the Troopers advancing with her as they opened fire with crimson lances of blaster fire, downing two Traitor Guardsmen before the young Knight reached them. She sidestepped a thrust from a bayonet and cut him down with a simple stroke, followed by cutting another in two from left waist to right shoulder blade. The last Guard, snarling, fired his lasgun at close range, only for her to deflect it back into his chest at the last moment.
Dani jumped back, breathing heavily from her exertions, beginning to wish she had swallowed her pride and taken the custom armour the techies made for her. Under her Jedi robes was nothing more than a simple crimson corset with skin tight royal blue pants and knee high black boots. No armour to speak off.
Alliance Troopers rushed past her, securing the corridor she had just cleared. Taking a final deep breath she began to advance, slipping out of her heavy robes, revealing bare shoulders which made a few men take a second glance before they came to the next set of blast doors. She took her comlink out and clicked it on, giving a direct link to the Hand of Salvations bridge and its commander.
"Captain, we've reached the next set of blast doors," she spoke in her warm, accented and extremely tempting voice. "Please open up the next set."
The com crackled before the accented voice of Captain Koslov filtered through the static, "Understood, Commander Blue, opening blast doors now."
Her troops had created another makeshift line of defences, a three man crew set up an E-web repeating blaster cannon, preparing for whatever was beyond those blast doors. The doors opened with a mechanical whine, revealing a full squad of Blood Pact, hidden behind makeshift barriers of crates, half hidden within curves and side halls.
Standing in the middle of the corridor was what could only be described as a monster in ceramic armour. A giant among men, garbed in nightmarish black armour, customised with razor sharp spikes along the white trim, ram like horns sticking out of the hem and crimson eye visors which reminded Dani of a demon from novels. In his gauntleted hands was a huge weapon, a Storm Bolter, if she remembered.
The marine pulled the trigger before the men on the E-web could fire, releasing a mass of exploding rounds which ripped the three men and the blaster cannon apart. The men, full of gaping holes hit the ground with a series of meaty slaps, blood pouring from their gaping wounds. Lasfire joined the bolter fire, killing an additional two men in one fell sweep.
Dani pressed herself into a side corridor, ears numbed as the Chaos Space Marine continued to pour bolter fire into the corridor. She watched as a Trooper attempted to run, only to be cut down by a hail of lasfire. She couldn't hear the sounds of combat anymore, only a continuous ringing. Within moments half of her platoon had been cut down. Return blaster fire ricocheting harmlessly off its ceramic armour as it advanced through the blast doors and into their corridor.
"Captain," she yelled into the comlink, barely able to hear her own voice over the haze of combat. "Close the blast doors, now!"
She heard the sliding motions of a heavily armoured blast door closing, cutting off the rampaging Chaos Marine from his support. Sadly he didn't seem to notice as he continued to pour bolter fire into the corridor, augmented voice laughing in delight. She heard the cut off cries of Troopers as they were torn to pieces under the highly explosive shells.
The Marine stepped past her side corridor, firing for another few seconds before his heavy Storm Bolter clicked empty. Casually the Marine dropped the smoking weapon, reaching for a bolter strapped to his back. Dani used her chance, igniting her azure lightsabre and exploding from her hiding place. She jumped with a force propelled leap and stabbed her lightsabre through the back of the Chaos Marines neck, piercing through ceramic armour, flesh and bone.
The traitor roared, more in fury than pain, before falling to his knees. Dani cart wheeled over his head, just missing the bolter as the Marine reached back and fired a few rounds over his shoulder. She landed in front of him and with a quick swipe of her lightsabre decapitated her opponent. The helmet, head still within, hit the bulkhead on the other side of the corridor, falling to the ground as the body fell forward.
Panting for breath, Dani tried to ignore the furious smell of ozone and cooked meat, before turning to the last surviviors of her Platoon. Out of a force of twenty men and women they had been whittled down to twelve, a further five were screaming in agony, limbs torn off by the superior weapons fire. The Chaos Marine had done that much damage. She had heard of their deadly power, but seeing it was another thing entirely.
"Contact central, we need reinforcements to corridor thirty nine immediately," she ordered, watching as the Platoon Leader, Sergeant McTavish, relayed the order via his helmets built in comlink.
Looking down at the headless body Dani hoped that there were no more of these warriors to fight. She doubted she'd be lucky a second time.
Falkirk jumped through the opened blast door, rolling into a side corridor, ignoring the black marks of lasfire in his wake. He pressed his body against the bulkhead, checked his power pack, and leaning around the corner squeezed the trigger of his Clone Wars era DC-15 blaster rifle, downing a Traitor Guard with a well timed shot to the head.
Additional fire flowed from the entrance, his Platoon of elite SpecForce firing at will with their customised weaponry. Precise fire from the elites downed another four enemy Troopers in quick succession. Falkirk watched as the Pirates began a tactical withdrawal in military procedure, men falling back one at a time under the cover fire of those further down the corridor.
He managed to shoot one of the retreating raiders in the back, before grabbing a thermal detonator from his utility belt, thumbing it to a fuse of five seconds and throwing it down the corridor with a yell of 'incoming' to the men and women behind him. The blast destroyed the majority of the corridor, killing an additional three enemy Troopers, who were atomised within its blast radius.
There were only a few more enemy soldiers to kill, then they would have the bridge within their sights, reports from other squads reported light to medium resistance, with a few heavy's in some places from large armoured warriors with huge guns. He hoped they wouldn't run into any of them, wherever there was a so-called 'Chaos Space Marine' casualties went from minimum to extremely heavy. Blaster bolts bounced off their armour, which could only be pierced by heavy weapons fire or a lightsabre to a joint.
The last Guardsmen were picked off by a few well timed shots from his snipers, and thumbing on his comlink he clicked it to the bridges frequency. "Captain Koslov, this is Major Falkirk of Alliance Specforce. Enemy forces eliminated in bridge corridor Bravo, safe to open doors over?"
There was a moment of silence before the reply came through, "Roger that Major, opening blast doors now!"
The blast door opened with a mechanical hiss, and the Major watched as four of his elite SpecForce rushed through the opening with their specialised blaster drawn, checking the immediate area for any trace of an ambush. It was a few seconds later when his second, Lieutenant Elisa Farland, issued the all-clear through the units comlink channel.
He walked through, flanked by two men, to be met with a large expanse; a balcony like observation deck, looking over three additional, larger decks, each sporting a large number of officers, operators and consoles. Standing in the centre of the observation deck was a man outfitted in a navy uniform with crimson trim, and a man in a crimson uniform with a large cap and golden trim.
He walked forward, stopped and saluted in respect to the ships commander. "Sir, I am Major Falkirk, Alliance SpecForce. We are here to escort you and your crew to the evacuation point."
The Captain looked more than happy to reply, but the man in the red dress uniform beat him too it, "What do you mean by Evacuate, Major?"
Falkirk looked the man in the eye, "Exactly what I said sir, you're engines have been neutralised, and your ships ability to defend itself has been eliminated. The only action left to us is to evacuate all personnel to our vessels, where you will be transported to the nearest Imperial world."
"Then I must disagree, Major,"
"I don't believe you have the authority to disagree… what in the name of the Force is your rank?"
"Commissar Fredric Nicolai," the man replied curtly.
"I see," the Major replied with a raised brow. "And I should care because?"
The Commissars frown turned into a growl, "Watch your tongue boy, we of the Commissariat are the enforce discipline and devotion to the Imperial Guard and Navy in the name of the holly Emperor of Mankind."
"I… see," Falkirk frowned at him for a moment. "And for what reason do you disagree with my decision regarding our course of action?"
"This is a vessel of the halloed Imperium of Mankind, under attack by the vile heretics and traitors of Chaos. It needs to be defended no matter the costs." The Commissar snarled, looking unflinchingly into the SpecForce Majors orbs as he spoke. He realised the man didn't even blink.
"So, you are basically saying that the several hundred thousand innocent people here are not nearly as important as this old piece of scrap metal?" The Major replied with nearly as much vehemence, he had starred down the deadliest the Empire and Yuuzhan Vong had too offer, so matching this man's glare was no challenge. "That may be how you see it Commissar, but it is not how I see it. This ship is nothing but a hunk of metal floating in space, what matters to me is the men, women and children aboard. I and my people are going to begin evacuating these persons, and if you want to fight these raiders for this ship then go ahead, be my guest. I wish you luck, but you are not going to sacrifice my people in order to do it."
"Insolent swine," the Commissar roared, drawing his bolt pistol in a smooth motion, only to be on the receiving end of a squads worth of blaster rifles.
"One of you, ten of us," Falkirk replied, holding his ancient Clone Wars era blaster carbine at waist level. "You decide."
The Commissar snarled again, before lowering his gun in defeat. The Major nodded his head before turning back to the startled crew. "All right people, I need the positions of the main civilian strongholds and an advanced warning sent to let them know that our people are coming to their merry rescue, any takers!"
Marie Saunders held her daughter close, not willing to loosen her gripe on the four year old for a moment as they watched the last blast door between them and the traitors spark from cutting tools. They had been forced to bear the mental torture of listening to the hijacked channels of their old colonial ship as the damned continued to force their way through to them. Soon their last defence would be cast aside, and the true hell would begin.
Marie had been nothing more than a farmer's wife once, married to a good man who had blessed her with a daughter to love, a homestead to live and a moderate few hectares of farmland to call home. Then the Tyranid swarms had invaded their little agricultural world, and they had fled to the capital. Her husband had bartered everything he owned to get them, and only them aboard the ship, while he stayed behind to be consumed by the monsters. His joyful smile that they would survive would be forever etched into her memory, last memory of Alan Saunders, which broke her heart.
Now they would die by a worse way. At least against the Tyranids their death, while brutal, would have only lasted for a few moments. Traitors were rumoured to make their victims suffer before their final demise. Rape, beatings, crucified as standards with their own intestinal tract, these were just a few of the horrified tales told about the traitors of the Imperium.
Marie knew she was a good looking woman, born to the life of farmer's her body was toned and fit, with long chocolate hair, full lips and dark eyes. At only thirty years of age she would be the target to any traitor, and that meant her daughter would be in danger. She looked down at the crying child, and considered for a moment to just kill her now, to spare her the suffering of being these demons plaything, but she knew that she never could.
Instead she kissed the crying child softly on the top of her chocolate haired head, and held her close, closing her eyes tightly and waiting for the inevitable. "There there my sweet Sonya, it's going to be okay. Mommy won't let anything happen to you, I promise."
Her baby girl sobbed as she spoke, "I'm scared, momma."
She shushed her softly, "I know love, but it'll be okay."
She watched with fear as the sparking low snarl of the cutting tools reached a full circle around the door and stopped. Silence dominated the small safe house for a moment before the door fell inward, slamming against the floor with a near deafening thump. A single man walked through, dressed in old Imperial Guard uniform of maroon with black fatigues, only the halloed Aquila of the Imperium of Man was scratched out, replaced by an eight pointed star which sent an involuntary shiver up her spine.
The man himself was dirty and gruff, caked in dirt and blood, with stubble which hadn't been shaved in weeks, a scar ran along his left cheek and his eyes glowed a predatory red in the low light of the stronghold. She knew he was seeing at least three hundred cowering women, children and old men. His gaze settled upon her, and a twisted smile spread across his face which made her shudder in revulsion.
"Yes," he whispered in a sickening tone. "This'll do quite nicely."
Suddenly the silence outside was replaced by shouting and lasfire, followed by explosions and screams. The Guardsmen spun around, drawing his laspistol just as a few more of his fellow traitors rushed into the room, also dressed in the same maroon flak armour with black fatigues. They slammed the door shut, and checked their lasguns.
"We're under attack," one yelled.
"Who," the first asked.
"Don't know, but they tore half of us apart with the first salvo, we need too-" the seconds words were cut short as the door suddenly flew forward through the hole with unnatural force, taking the Guardsman with it. It slammed against the other side of the corridor, and the traitor groggily stood up, only to be cut down again as an emerald blade of light separated his head from his shoulders.
The figure, dressed in a long flowing cloak of dirt brown, hood up to cover his or her features began walking towards the exit, and the two remaining Traitors wasted no time. "Fire, kill the bastard!"
They both raised their lasguns and fired, only for the beams of crimson to be intercepted by the new figures green blade, one flew back, and hitting the third Guard in the chest, making him stumble before a quick stroke cut him from left shoulder to right thigh. The first continued to fire at will with his laspistol, but the new individual jumped high, avoiding his salvo and fell upon him with his energy blade raised high, vivisecting him neatly in half from the crown of his head to his pelvis.
Marie watched, as stunned as the other three hundred in the room as the figure, energy sword casting a dull light, looked upon them and spoke. "You want to live? Then follow us!"
"The last of the refugees have been successfully evacuated Admiral, updated reports number them as roughly nine hundred thousand, give or take a few hundred."
Halos nodded his head, watching as the last flight of LAAT gunships, escorting a handful of longer hundred and fifteen meter long Consular-class Space Cruisers left the gapping hanger bay of the ancient colonial vessel. Dozens of X-wings and E-wings in turn surrounded them, acting as a protective guard against what few pirate fighter craft were left in the immediate vicinity.
The ancient Cruiser was a dead hulk in space, gutted from several direct heavy Turbolaser hits, smoke billowed from its many wounds and the Admiral knew that she would never be able to challenge his Star Dreadnought again. The last threat, the second Frigate, was observed making a retreat from the battle, billowing smoke, bodies and unbolted equipment from several gaping holes in its hull armour.
"The moment those last few transports make dock take us into hyperspace, plot a course for the Scorpios Star System."
"Yes Admiral,"
The Scorpios Star System, roughly twelve light years behind the Eastern Fringe worlds of the Imperium, a small agricultural colony was within the system, population about three hundred thousand, orbital defences light with a small flotilla of warships, ground defences consist of mainly a Division of Planetary Defence Forces and a local Adeptus Arbites presence. Perfect for unloading the nine hundred thousand refugees they had.
"What's the casualty report from the boarders?"
"An estimated twenty five Troopers and three SpecForce officers dead, twelve injured, we got off lucky sir."
Joseph nodded his head, watching as the last Space Cruiser vanished within his flagships main hanger bay, followed by what few scouting squadrons remained. Squadrons of X-wings, E-wings, A-wings, K-wings, TIE Interceptors, Raptors and Defenders trickled into the main hanger bays like a never ending swarm. A few more minutes passed before the small stream of Starfighters and Gunboats ended and his communications officer reported what he had been waiting to hear.
"All squadrons report successful emergency landings, all Transports have landed and are disgorging refugees, sir."
He nodded, "Very well then, take us into hyperspace!"
Halos listened for his navigational officer's affirmative and watched as the hundreds of specks of stars elongated into the seemingly never ending lines of hyperspace. The Guardian vanished with a blur, leaving a heavily damaged a Frigate and empty Colonisation vessel floating in the void.
Gabrielle watched as the landing ramps of the ancient Space Cruisers lowered, disgorging another mass of scared, tired, and hungry people, mostly women and children she realised. They joined the throng of controlled chaos which the main hanger bay had become, nine hundred thousand people being cared for by every medic and doctor on the Star Dreadnought, there were so many that half of the assembled Division of Troopers, original there for security, had to put their own rudimentary first aide skills to the test.
Many of the people looked at the medics with wide eyes, not recognising the uniforms they wore, or even half of the species represented in the Alliance medical corps. At first many were scared, terrified even to see what the Imperium termed as xenos wandering around the mass of hastily placed bedding and medical tents, offering aide to those who needed it.
The young Jedi had a theory that the majority of the Imperium's civilian population didn't know of the wars taking place across the galaxy, nor the mass of enemies that the Imperium was fighting against. Most heard only rumours from retired military officials, and weren't aware of the actual dangers until they were literarily on their doorstep.
She supposed it was the best solution, ninety nine percent of the Imperium of Man living in a state of blissful ignorance, while the higher echelons of society had the advantage, or disadvantage, of knowing the real truth of the matter. There was one small problem with her hypothesis and that was the Imperium's state religion.
There were the priests and cardinals of the Administratum, chanting death to the heretic, the witch and the xeno in that order, brainwashing populations into such a way of thinking; after all how can ten thousand years of toil and death be wrong? All traitors to be shot, all witches put to the torch, all xenos hunted to extinction in the name of the Imperium, the High Lords, the Primarchs, and their Emperor.
But Gabrielle knew that the Imperium wasn't as black and white; supposed rebel traitors who still believed in their Emperor fighting against corrupt tyrants. The supposed evil witches fighting in the ranks of the Imperial armed forces, from the sanctioned Psykers of the Imperial Guard, the Librarians of the Space Marines and the Astronomicon of the Imperial Navy. Then there was the supposed evil of the xeno, even though the armies and navies of this galactic Imperium had fought beside several such races on a number of occasions.
Yes, she guessed the majority of this Empires citizens were blissfully unaware of what was happening on the fringes of their great Empire, other than rumour and supposedly mythical stories. That was why the Admiral had ordered a full Division of Alliance Troopers stationed in this hanger, as well as herself, Rachi and Hossk to make sure no one tried to hurt any of the medics.
Instead the opposite happened, after their initial shock the refugees they had sworn to protect readily accepted the help of the several hundred medics and doctors coming out to greet them. The surprise was still there, the shock was still there but the hatred and bloodlust she was expecting just wasn't there. The people they had saved just seemed to accept it and get on with it.
The majority of surviving Imperial Guard and Naval personnel seemed to accept their terms. The two hundred surviving loyal Guardsmen had handed over their weapons to the Alliance Troopers and allowed the medics, human or otherwise to help those in great need.
She felt a tug on her pants, forcing her from her musings, and looked down to see a child, a toddler on the verge of tears. He was a boy, about two she guessed and with a kind smile she crouched down beside him, ruffling his short brown hair.
"Are you alright little one?"
The child looked into her chocolate eyes, "I-I cawn't find my mawmy."
She giggled at his broken speech, before picking him up in her arms and holding him close. "We'll let's try and find her then, when was the last time you saw her?"
He seemed to think for a moment, and she found him absolutely adorable, she wanted to pinch his little chubby cheek. He made a big gesture with his hands as he spoke. "Um… betwore I got onto dis rwelly big ship."
"What's your name, little one?"
He looked at her again, reaching up with a chubby hand to wipe his teary eyes, "Jake."
She grinned, and it seemed to relax the boy in her arms. "Well Jake, I'm Gabrielle, but you can call me Gab. Let's go find your mom."
"Gabrielle," the young Jedi turned around to see one of her two superiors walk calmly towards her. Rachi was dressed in a basic medical uniform with all of the satchels and medbag under her arm, but no insignia. Her lightsabre hilt clipped to her utility belt as she came along beside her. "Good thing I found you, there's a problem in sector seven, someone who calls himself a Commissar or some dribble like that."
Her speech was halted as she looked down to the lost child in her arms, who in turn was looking up at her with eyes as wide as dinner plates, "Who is this?"
Gabrielle smiled serenely, "Just a child who lost his mom, I'm trying to help him."
Rachi tilted her head to the side, letting her right lekku fall from her neck, the appendage caught the child's attention and he began to fidget in Gabrielle's arms. Gabrielle, not beyond a bit of fun held him out to the elder Jedi Master. "I think he's taken a liking to you master, why don't you help him and I'll take care of this Commissar."
Rachi, oblivious to her right lekku, shrugged as she took him, "Sure, but I don't see why-"
She was stopped when little Jake reached up and began to place his palms on her cheeks, completely taking in his new babysitters face. Rachi tilted her head again as Gabrielle slipped away, a soft smile gracing her lips as she began to carefully rock the toddler in her arms, that is until he got close enough to her exposed lekku, and grabbing a hold gave it a sharp tug. "Ouch!"
Gabrielle giggled as she strode away, listening as the Twi'lek Jedi Master softly scold the boy before her voice became lost in the crowd. Out of all of them it was Rachi who was the most gifted when it came to soothing children, especially younger children. It was a gift Grand Master Skywalker picked up upon after her post-dramatic stress treatment, that she was a natural with younglings. Gabrielle considered she would make a great mother someday, if she ever found someone that is.
With a deep breath she schooled her features as she moved through the crowd, ignoring the few curious glances she got as she made her way to the place Rachi had placed in her mind. Once she got there she resisted the urge to reach for her lightsabre. The Commissar had obviously ignored the suggestion to hand all weapons over to security and was pointing a bulky looking pistol at the head of a terrified Calamari field medic.
Sighing Gabrielle reached out with her hand, relieving the Commissar of his pistol, which flew over to her grasp. She looked at the thing for a moment, knowing that it would have blown the poor medics head off his shoulders before settling a glare upon the snarling man who wielding it. "That's enough of that, wouldn't you agree?"
The man's snarl went more feral as he looked upon the young Knight, "You insolent swine, the Emperor would scorn you for protecting these foul xeno scums!"
Gabrielle's glare intensified, and with a wave of her hand sent the Commissar sprawling to the floor with a weak force push. The man, completely disorientated, wasn't aware of her presence until she ignited her lightsabre and held the violet blade an inch from his throat, leaving the slightest blackened burns against his neck. "I would watch my mouth if I were you Commissar, you are here by our good graces and killing us would mean a one way trip out of an airlock, do you understand!"
Three Alliance Troopers arrived; levelling blaster rifles at the man's head should he be stubborn enough not to comply. Most of the refugees surrounding the incident seemed to ignore him, two of whom helped the Calamari medic to his feet and guided him to another victim. The man glared into Gabrielle's unyielding orbs, before nodding his head in defeat.
"Good, now kindly sit there and shut up while another medic has a look at you, should you threaten his or her life I will not be so charitable," she closed down her lightsabre and walked away, leaving the Commissar to get back up on his own.
"Any problems," Halos asked from his place in the centre of the main pavilion, watching as his main crew worked at their assorted tasks. The main communications officer looked at him before shaking her head.
"None sir, there were a few incidents but Jedi Knights Sitra, Korr, Sabbath and Trey'lis took care of it before it got out of control."
"Excellent," Joseph nodded, before regaining his attention with the streaming lights of passing by stars. This seemed to stay that way for a while, a moment of peaceful seclusion before Captain Sor'ai Flore strode over to him and saluted. "What is it, Sor'aoi?"
She hesitated for a moment before she spoke, "A group of people from the refugees wish to speak to you, something important they said."
He eyed her for a moment, before nodding his head, "Allow them up, keep a squad of Troopers on them just in case."
She nodded before turning on her heel and walking down the corridor, a few moments passed before the small group of people were allowed into the main walkway of the command deck. Two men and a single woman, all of them were human, not surprising, and all of them were in their elder years, between fifty and sixty he guessed by their weathered features and greying hair. Sor'ai stepped forward, and they looked at her with a mixture of interest and fear as she spoke for them.
"Admiral Joseph Halos, I introduce to you Governor Fern Khrushchev, along with aides Harry Winchester and husband Lenard Khrushchev." She introduced with professionalism and tact.
Joseph nodded, "Thank you Sor'ai, now back to your tasks with you."
She nodded before turning on her heel and walking back towards the main pavilion, Joseph remained, fixing his guests with a disarming smile. "Do not let her frighten you my friends, as far as Commanders go Sor'ai Flore is considerably more open minded than most, now what can I do for you!"
Fern Khrushchev came forward a few steps, stopped, and bowed before him. "Sir, I was once the Governor of Dasios III, and I would like to speak to you on behalf of every civilian aboard the Hand of Salvation. You came to our need in the direst circumstances and we would like to ask you to take us in. We are mainly farmers, but we are also a hardy folk, and smart enough to learn whatever you need us to learn to become useful."
Joseph was taken slightly aback by the spectacle, not that he let it show. "I appreciate the offer, my lady, but surely the life of an outlaw is not for the likes of innocent people, particularly women, children and old men."
"Then you obviously do not know us sir," she replied. "The Imperium had all but abandoned us and in our time of need you have come to aide us. We would rather throw our lot in with you and your crew, xeno or otherwise, instead of an Imperium who conveniently forgot we existed in our moment of greatest need."
Halos looked at the three weathered individuals for a moment, before sighing. "We have recently found a planet, outside of Imperial control for our needs. The only problem is our foodstuffs and water supplies. The majority of our people are skilled pilots and soldiers, but very few farmers. Will you be able to assist us in this?"
Fern nodded her white haired head, "Of course Admiral."
"In return you will have claim to whatever land you settle, within a reasonable choice of land of course, and so long as you continue to supply my fleet with the food and water it needs you will have our protection and sufficient food for yourselves; Just one thing."
"What is that?"
"Don't call my people xenos, their races all have names and they have individual names of their own. I am not asking you to remember every name within the fleet, just give them the respect they deserve as fellow Sentient Beings, is that fine?"
She bowed low and deep, "That is fine Admiral, we are at your service."
He was sitting at his desk, reading the latest Intel reports from across the sector before his Interrogator entered the room with yet another intelligence report. The Inquisitor raised his head ever so slightly, showing his piercing blue eyes from under his dark hood. "Leave it there!"
Grand smiled as he continued to stride up to his boss, ignoring the small place he had set aside for such reports. Instead the Interrogator stood before his mahogany desk and promptly dropped the file. The Inquisitor looked up with a murderous glare, which his apprentice deftly shrugged off.
"This one will get your attention sir, I guarantee it." Grand said as way of description, before taking a long step away from the desk and allowing his master to pick up the file. Tearing off the paper seal before opening it to read, his eyes widened after a few moments of sorting through the usual drabble. His apprentice decided to fill in the details.
"This sighting was barely a week ago, in the heavily contested Kronus Star System," Earnest Grant reported in a military tone. "According to reports a single warship has been found which matches the description of the ships we are searching for, found and commandeered by the Tau, right in the middle of their fleet."
It had been nearly six months since the first reports on these new ships began flooding in, and the Inquisitor had heard many since then. Between the incidents on Anglo Prime until now he had heard hundreds of reports, and of those only a few were truly trustworthy. They spoke of ships on the Eastern Fringe, randomly appearing and protecting refugee fleets along the border from the incursions of Tyranid Splinter Fleets, Dark Eldar Raiders and Chaos Pirate Flotillas. These people were gaining a hero worship from the peoples of the edge as protectors, saviours and friends.
It had to be stopped, before the damage became too much to repair.
"Assemble the full fleet," he ordered simply, continuing to read the file. Silvermaine would be arriving within a few weeks, and he needed some sort of advantage over the Ordo Xenos Lord Inquisitor before then. This was right what he needed, "Looks like we're going to Kronus."