So you guys know what's funnier than 24? 25. I'm two for two! Enjoy guys!

Chapter 25: Skeujam-Ailida

"Form a perimeter around the village!" Jaren barked into his comlink as he tore through the sand. "Double up around the cave entrance. Keep them out of that cave, no matter what the cost!"

They got to the outskirts. Tazeo and a large group of other young Rattataki men ran to meet them. Xoreg hastily gave orders, his voice booming over the steadily rising noise. As quickly as their feet would let them, they all sprinted back to the village. Jaren threw himself down behind a crate next to a few of his men.

"You want us to open fire now?" Skid yelled as Jaren fumbled with his blaster rifle.

"Hold!" Jaren barked. "I can't see them!"

Chaos.

Drums rumbled in the distance. The mountains shook with oncoming footsteps. Rattataki and Pathfinders alike scrambled for anything even remotely resembling a weapon and sprinted to defensive positions. Children screamed.

But in the middle of the mess, Yiema held her ground. Blazing white-grey eyes fixed to the base on the mountains, she clenched her fists at her side and waited. A bitter frown warped her face. Xoreg mirrored her.

They were perfectly serene. Accepting.

And it was one of the most terrifying things Jaren had ever seen.

Rocks slid down the mountainside. An enemy hunting party swarmed over the cliffs like hundreds of black ants. Xoreg drew his scimitar, raising it into the air and bellowing a chant that his own soldiers immediately answered. Blades rang as they were unsheathed. Chills ran down Jaren's spine as he watched them.

Xoreg's blade lowered in his hand, and the entire fighting force charged. Metal clanked on metal; Rattataki screamed as they took their last breaths.

Skid shifted uneasily. "Now, sir?"

"Hold!"

Xoreg's line broke, and his men poured back into the village. The enemy – whose faces were covered in solid black paint – ran in after them.

That was what Jaren had been waiting for. He took aim.

"Let them have it!"

They opened fire, their blaster bolts daring the enemy Rattataki to come any closer. Blue Rattataki blood soaked the ground, its stench wafting up Jaren's nose with the smoke of plasma that rose in front of him. Screams pierced the air.

Then, seemingly from nowhere, it went silent. When the smoke cleared, Jaren saw why.

The entire party had been caught in the crossfire. Xoreg's men cheered. Next to him, Skid rushed to pull out his electrobinoculars, raising them to his dark eyes and peering into the distance.

"You see anything?" Jaren asked.

Skid shook his head. "Just a bunch of bodies. I think we got them all."

Jaren grinned. "Some ambush," he scoffed, yanking himself to his feet and walking out into the open. He turned back to Yiema. "See? What'd we tell you?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes bugged.

Jaren's brow furrowed. "What?"

Before she could answer him, he was thrown to the side, colliding hard with the solid side of a red-rock hut. Soon it crumbled to the ground, its ruins barreling through the air towards the village. Instantly the Rattataki behind him panicked.

Blood trickled down his temple. He tried to stand, but his feet were knocked out from under him. Snatching up his blaster rifle, Jaren rolled over to face his attacker, who he expected to be right on top of him.

But the closest enemy to him was over fifty feet away. And she was only one of ten. A small group – one that could easily be overrun or shot down – but no one moved. Everyone seemed caught in the same confused, terrified stupor.

But it was only ten people. Ten unarmed Rattataki women, who were all much smaller than their counterparts were. Why hadn't Xoreg charged?

The leader waved her hand through the air, and half of Jaren's scattered men were thrown through the air. The other Pathfinders opened fire, but the bolts evaporated in the air. It was then he understood.

Wikkjaz.

And, behind them, the second wave. But it was no hunting party.

It was an army. An army of thousands.

"Kriff."

The wikkjaz crossed the border into the village, and all hell broke lose. Airborne pieces of buildings and tents crushed anyone unlucky enough to be in their path. The second wave slammed into Xoreg's men so quickly that Jaren soon lost sight of them. He aimed into the throng, trying to pick off the large warrior that had effectively pinned Tazeo down, but they were so close together….

He could hit a friend. It was too risky.

He lowered the weapon. This wasn't a fight that could be won at long range. Drawing his tactical knife, he jumped onto the enemy tribesman's back and thrust his weight backwards, bringing the Rattataki down on top of him. A flailing elbow rammed into his eye. Dazed and struggling to hold on, he wrapped his legs around the Rattataki's waist, freed his knife hand, and slit his throat.

Tazeo quickly stood, throwing the dead body to the side and pulling Jaren back on his feet. Back to back, the two struggled to hold the oncoming tribesmen off. Soon blaster fire erupted at the mouth of the cave behind them. Jaren's heart leapt into his mouth.

All who couldn't fight – the sick, the wounded, children – were trapped inside.

If the wikkjaz got into that cave, it would be over.

The closer he got, the clearer the grim scene became. Bellowing angrily, Xoreg slammed a warrior nearly three times Jaren's size over his shoulder and into the ground, the splintering of his bones against the rock cracking in the horrified Pathfinder's ear. The laudan powered through the crowd, snapping the necks and slitting the throats of anyone he could get his hands on.

But that didn't keep the wikkjaz from coming.

"Hold them back!" he thundered, flying through the sand towards them. He gunned a few more of the enemy Rattataki down as he ran. "Hold them back!"

The Pathfinders rained another volley down on the enemy, but they just kept coming. If one was killed, another leapt from the darkness to take his place. Blaster bolts evaporated midair. Walking through the chaos as if she were walking through a morning market, the head wikkjaz stopped just before the mouth of the cave. Calling on her power – which Jaren was now absolutely certain was the Force – to surround her, she picked up a dead Rattataki's scimitar, slathered the blade with poison, and bolted towards the entrance.

Only to be tackled to the ground by Xoreg.

Screaming in rage as she rushed back to her feet, the wikkjaz wheeled to face him, blocking every one of his blows as if she knew where they would land before Xoreg even thought to make them. The laudan grabbed for her neck, but she ducked out of the way just before he could grab her. She kicked him in the chest. He stumbled.

He was getting tired.

Hurdling him to the ground with the Force, the wikkjaz pounced on top of him. Flailing desperately under her weight and that of the power she harnessed, Xoreg fought with everything in him to free himself, but there was no use.

A sadistic grin stretched across her face, the wikkjaz lifted the poisoned scimitar above her head and plunged it into Xoreg's stomach.

The laudan howled, and all of his people that surrounded him panicked. Before the wikkjaz could stand, Tazeo ripped her off of his laudan's mortally wounded body, trapping her head between his massive hands and snapping her neck.

The other nine pushed towards the cave.

Yiema bolted to her husband's side, standing over him and shooting everyone who got close down with a homeless blaster she had found. Tears streamed down her face, and the scream that tore from her lungs would haunt Jaren for the rest of his life. Absent-mindedly he fired at the oncoming witches, but to no avail.

They were overrun.

Gritting his teeth, be ran from his cover and dropped to the ground next to the wounded laudan. When he caught Yiema's eye, his heart sank to his toes.

"Surrender, Colonel," she cried. "We will have to if we want to live."

Jaren's chest tightened. He wouldn't surrender. Not yet.

He fumbled for his comm. He kicked himself for not having done it sooner.

"Squadron up!" he desperately shouted. "We need air support!"

"Colonel!" Yiema despaired. "Look around you! It is over. If you bring any more of your people here, you will lead them to their deaths!"

Jaren locked eyes with her.

"We'll see about that."

Engines shrieked as Rapier and Echo lifted from the permacrete and charged towards the village. A shaking hand wrapped around the stick, Calo squinted at the tangle of flames and stray blaster bolts that loomed in the distance. He swallowed hard.

"We sure about this?" he quaked.

"As long as you guys stay with us and follow your orders," Poe replied, his voice remarkably steady, "you will be perfectly fine. They're on the ground; you're in the air. If anybody's in trouble, it sure as hell isn't you. This is just glorified target practice."

Calo nodded. He's right, he told himself. He's right. Stop panicking. He's right.

"Rapier Two, Rapier Three, tight on me."

Karé and Iolo answered in unison: "Yes sir."

"All teams accelerate to attack speed."

Calo keyed a few controls, and his A-wing surged forward, the sheer speed he was traveling at pinning him farther back into his seat. He took a deep breath.

Poe's right. You're gonna be fine.

The others dipped towards the ground. Calo followed suit. His heart jumped into his mouth. The village rushed towards him; his finger wrapped around the trigger.

His first real attack run had begun.

You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine….

"Seventeen men do not win a battle alone, Colonel!" Yiema retorted. "Can you not hear me? Look at this. Look at him!" She gestured to her feet where Xoreg still lay, his hand tightly wrapped around her ankle as he fought to stay alive. "You will get us all killed—"

A long, low shriek drowned out all the noise on the battlefield. All the Rattataki – even the wikkjaz – froze in their tracks, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.

Jaren, however, knew exactly what it was.

Three Rapiers shot into view, hailing ion cannon fire on the enemy as they lead the rest of the fighters past. Six of the wikkjaz now lay dead. The enemy, now genuinely afraid for their lives, scattered.

And the X-wings were coming back around.

Cries of despair morphed into excited cheers. Even Yiema was smiling.

"Good to see you, Rapier One," Jaren chuckled into his comm. "Was beginning to think you guys would never show up."

Poe laughed from the other side. "We thought you'd never ask."

His black X-wing shot across the sand, leveling more enemy Rattataki as it passed. The wikkjaz fought to vaporize his fire, but it came too heavily too quickly.

Finally, the last of the wikkjaz collapsed to the ground. The rest of the enemy recoiled to the hills, watching the sky in terror as Echo Squadron cut off their escape. Yiema's tears of despair turned to tears of joy.

"I should never have underestimated them," she whispered.

Bellowing in his native tongue, Tazeo rallied what remained of his tribe's fighting force and pelted after the enemy. Yiema's grateful smile widened as she watched them go.

Xoreg coughed beneath her, and Yiema sank to her knees, pulling her husband into her arms. Not daring to look at the wound, Yiema focused on his face, brushing the dirt off the back of his head. Jaren knelt next to them, resting his hand on the laudan's shoulder.

Yiema smiled down at him. "Do you see them?" she murmured in her native tongue.

Xoreg weakly pointed towards the sky with a shaking hand, his eyes filled with wonder.

"Skeujam-ailida," he whispered, the grin on his face widening. "Skeujam-ailida…."

Jaren's brow furrowed. "What's he saying?" he asked.

Yiema turned to look at him. He swore he'd never seen someone so sorrowful, so scared, and yet so relieved in his entire life. She smiled radiantly.

"Skeujam-ailida," she echoed. "Skyfire."

Calo's A-wing shot overhead, unleashing a barrage of bright crimson cannon fire onto the last of the retreating enemy.

"Skyfire," Jaren repeated thoughtfully. He softly smiled.

It was certainly fitting.

"Rattatak has certainly shown favor to them," Yiema quietly went on. "And on us, for sending them with you. They've… saved us. Just as you said they would."

Jaren's smile widened to a grin. "They're pretty good at that."

Xoreg coughed again. A thin trickle of blue blood streamed from his nose. Cradling his face in her hands, Yiema pressed her forehead to his, whispering to him in his own language. Hesitantly he nodded. A trembling hand reached up to touch her face.

"He needs to be taken back inside," Yiema's voice shook. "If there's any hope of saving him. I am no wikkjaz, but I have to try."

She stood and called to Tazeo, who sped to her side. Carefully, the two slung Xoreg's massive arms around their shoulders and hauled him to hid feet. Xoreg screamed. Trying to quell his anguish, Yiema reached up and grasped his hand, whispering reassuringly to him as they started off towards the cave. His rifle raised in case of trouble, Jaren trailed behind them. Wounded Rattataki moaned in the sand; a few of Xoreg's men even reached towards him in a silent call for help. Again he reached for his comm.

"Skid?" he asked. "You read?"

"Loud and clear, Colonel."

Jaren sighed in relief. "I need you to call med down here. They're gonna need help with their wounded."

"Already did, sir," Skid replied. "Right around the time Rapier and Echo showed up."

"Good. Send a few of them over here. The laudan's hurt. Bad."

"But sir—"

"That's an order, Skid. They cannot afford to lose him—"

"Sir, they're not trained to treat Rattataki. They hardly know what they're doing with non-human sentients, much less any this rare. They're trying to figure it out, but it's not going well. Their captain's telling me if they had help, they could do it."

Jaren's face darkened.

"But where are we gonna find that kind of help? And can we get it fast enough, sir? The closest elite med unit I know of is on Hosnian Prime. It would take them at least a day to get out here. The Rattataki don't have that long."

"No," Jaren frowned. "They don't."

"Then what do we do?"

"The only thing we can do, Skid. Ask for reinforcements." His eyes drifted back to Xoreg.

"And hope they get here in time."

She was dead sleep when the sirens went off.

Flailing to kick the blankets off as she sat up, Mila dove out of her cot, pulled on her combat boots, snatched up her blaster and sprinted from the room. Her heart raced.

They're here, she thought. This is it. They've found us.

She rounded the corner and barreled into the hangar. Though instead of the rush she expected to find – or the TIE fighter engines she expected to hear howling outside – the hangar was relatively calm. And the only engines she could pick out where those of the troops transports firing up behind her. She spotted Sundar standing next to one of them, his gear completely packed up.

"Colonel!" she called, running towards him. "What's going on? Is it—"

"Everything here is fine," Sundar reassured, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We've just gotten a call from General Antilles, and it's urgent. We're being relocated. And I hope you brought your light weights. You're gonna need them."

Mila's brow furrowed. "What? Why?"

Sundar smiled. "Go pack your bags, Lieutenant," he ordered. "We're going to Rattatak."