The Journeyman Transport explodes its way out of the hangar, the power of its engines evaporating the water of the waterfall flowing around the hangar doors. With a blink of the eye, the ship carrying the last 30 survivors of the Sith invasion rockets across the surface of their home world staying low to the ground. Once lush, green mountains and valleys are now barren and set ablaze by the melting rock caused by the glassing of the moon by the Imperial Fleet. For days now, the Sith bombardment has been relentless, their turbolasers firing millions of rounds in an endless stream of green plasma raining from the heavens.
Vitus Mereel can only look on from the cockpit of his people's salvation as the once majestic landscape is now scorched with the colors of death. Miles upon countless miles of land stretching out beyond the horizon now burn with the same intensity as the hatred the man has for the Sith and their beloved Empire. Temptation calls for him to fight to the death, to crash the transport straight into the bridge of the Imperial Capital ship high above sacrificing him and the others just to kill a measly 9,000 Sith…but that would mean breaking the promise.
"Promise me…promise you will protect our son." His wife's words echo in his mind. He did promise. He will do everything in his power to ensure the survival of their son.
"Vitus! Hey, Vitus!" Gnaeus shakes his mentor's shoulder snapping the man out of his brief trance. "You alright?"
Vitus simply nods.
"You sure? You haven't been yourself lately?"
Aelia cuts in. "Gnaeus…none of us have been."
"Aelia," Vitus begins before Aelia stops him mid-sentence.
"No, don't say anything," she snaps. "We've all been through a lot. We're nearly out of this so let's focus on that."
It is true. They all had been through hell, but, even so, Vitus knew that his injuries have affected him greatly. He knows whatever medical procedures Aelia had performed were not up to any hospital standard. As Journeyman Protectors, they learned basic field treatments for setting broken arms and legs, bandaging and stitching open wounds - anything that would keep them alive if they got caught between a rock and a hard place. However, broken and protruding ribs, a pierced lung, and internal bleeding were beyond any of their medical training. Aelia's healing did little more than plug a leak in an inevitably crumbling dam.
"Oh, shit!" Gnaeus exclaims as his console station begins blinking red lights as an alarm kicks on.
"What do we have?" Vitus asks as he focuses on navigating the ship through the narrow mountain valleys.
"Fly faster – they're on to us!"
"What!? How!?" Vitus instantly slams the accelerator maxing out the ship's engines' speed.
"I don't know – I don't know! We're cloaked! How the f-" Gnaeus' words are cut short as their transport is hit from above by an Imperial starfighter.
"Darth Abadon! A patrol has stumbled upon another ship and is currently engaging them." The Imperial Bridge Officer relays the information to the now furiously pacing Sith Lord in the Imperial Cruiser.
Darth Abadon, almost in a panic for the last twenty minutes, shouts his orders to the entire bridge. "Do not destroy that ship! Tell that patrol to force that ship to the ground! If there are any other survivors, the crew of that one will know!"
"Yes, m'lord. It will be done," responds the officer.
Doubts return to Abadon's mind as well as the fear of his master as he begins to think his own men are probably going to sabotage this mission. "Yes, Kressh probably paid them off to set up my failure. If you want it done right, you must do it yourself."
"Wait!" Abadon calls to the Bridge Officer. "Tell those fighters to hold their fire. Get my ship ready as well as a contingency of troopers, I am going to do this myself."
Vitus steers the ship dodging the laser blasts of the enemy starfighters. Many of the shots miss, and those that connect are deflected or absorbed by the transport's shields.
"How many are you reading?" Vitus says to Gnaeus.
"I'm counting six, but I'm sure more are on the way – hmpf!" The transport rocks violently as a blast finds its way through the shields impacting the port side hull. "Shields are beginning to fail!"
"Gnaeus! Head up to the rear gun and see if you can't take a few of them out!"
"On it!" Gnaeus hurries to the turret located at the rear of the transport accessed by the engine room.
"You think he's going to be able to hold them off?" Aelia asks sarcastically.
Vitus does not need to answer. All three of them know the answer to that question. With their ship spotted, hiding was no longer an option. They are outnumbered millions to one making fighting an impossible option unless suicide is their goal. No, they have to outrun the Sith and hope that the Imperials miss enough of their shots that the last survivors can find an opening and make the jump to hyperspace.
From the cockpit, Vitus and Aelia can hear Gnaeus unleashing the rear battery into the pursuing star fighters. Every plasma round fired from the manned turret sends a heavy vibration through the entirety of the ship jarring loose the already loosened interior panels and short-circuiting several passageway lights. Everyone hangs on hoping and praying that death does not find them soon.
Vitus flips on the comms channel switch in front of him. "How's it looking back there?"
A quick three shot burst resonates throughout the ship. "More of the bastards keep showing up!...and Vitus."
"What?"
"They're aiming at the thrusters."
Vitus and Aelia pause taking in Gnaeus' words. The two of them look to each other before Aelia speaks, a hint of despair in her voice. "The Sith are trying to bring us to the ground!?"
The ship rocks again from another direct hit. Alarms begin to sound off from every console in a symphony of chaos.
"They want information before they kill us...Vitus, you know they're going to torture every single person on this vessel."
Another blast from the star fighters rocks the transport, but Vitus does not respond to Aelia. Instead, he grips the control wheel with steel hands determined to get his son to safety. He reaches for the accelerator once more but the energy from a huge direct hit nearly throws him and Aelia from their seats. Vitus quickly regains himself and his eyes go straight to the shield read-outs. To his dismay, the readings on the shield, like a heart rate monitor, have flatlined.
"Gnaeus, keep holding them! We've lost the shields!" Vitus shouts into the comms, but no response is received. "Gnaeus!? Gnaeus-"
"He's gone." Aelia says almost emotionless. More and more fire from the Sith pepper the Journeyman Transport. The woman then stands up and makes her way for the cockpit door.
"What are you doing?" Vitus asks as he eyes his good friend, her light saber clenched in her hand.
"Making sure no one will suffer."
Vitus' eyes grow wide as visions of the promise he made swarm his mind, and without hesitation jumps up from his seat and charges Aelia. He slams his body into hers driving the woman into the edge of the doorway breaking her nose in the process. Meanwhile, the unattended flight controls point the nose of the ship down. Vitus rips the light saber away from the struggling Aelia as the transport violently bounces off the ground sending pieces of its hull flying. He ignites the light saber, revealing its black blade outlined in white. Vitus locks eyes with his friend for the last time as he drives the blade of the dark saber through Aelia's heart. The Journeyman Transport, fire and smoke trailing behind it, slides to a screeching halt as the Sith star fighters circle overhead.