Chapter Thirty-two
Soontir stood with his arms clasped behind his back on the bridge of his Star Destroyer overlooking his staff. To his left were the communication officers; to his right were other technicians operating the other monitors. Everyone was on alert. Any second they would make the final jump to Chandrilla. Soontir had not been to Chandrilla in over twenty years. He had few memories of the planet. He'd spent a brief twenty-four hour leave there before taking off for another mission. The only items he could recall were green rolling hills and low houses.
"General, a light stock freighter is approaching. They're requesting to speak to you. Should I patch it through?" one of the officers called out.
Soontir motioned for him to transfer the transmission to his comm station. Soontir flipped on the channel, "Fel."
"Got a place for us to land?" Han Solo's gruff voice called over the speaker.
"There should be some room in the garbage compactor," Soontir responded good-naturedly.
"Watch it, Fel," Han responded with a slight growl. Soontir heard Leia laughing as she told Han to quiet down.
"Docking Bay 445," he said and switched off the comm. He removed his personal comm from his pocket and dialed Jag's frequency.
"Fel," his son's voice answered immediately.
"The Solos just arrived."
"I wasn't aware they were coming," Jag stated with slight surprise. "What bay?"
"445."
"I'll tell Jaina. Thank you."
Soontir switched off his comm and slipped it back in his pocket. He told the deck commander where he would be and left the deck. He was curious as to why the Solos were there, too. However, he wasn't surprised that Han and Leia had appeared in the middle of a confrontation.
When Soontir spotted the Millennium Falcon, he was once again amazed that it could still fly. Carbon scoring marred the surface of the ship. Faded grey, red and black paint created an almost camouflage pattern on the vessel. The boarding ramp creaked as it lowered. Soontir turned slightly when he heard footsteps behind him. Jaina was rushing to the ship, Jag in tow.
"What are you doing here?" Jaina asked as Leia exited the ramp.
"We had a delivery to make," Leia commented, glancing back towards the ship. Jaina's eyes narrowed as she walked past her mother. She reached the base of the ramp and shouted, "Kyp Durron, what the hell are you doing here?"
"Hello to you, too," Kyp remarked as he came down the ramp.
"You are supposed to be in the med ward," Jaina snapped, hands on her hips.
"I got out early. I wasn't about to let you have all the fun," he said with a cocky look. Jaina shook her head in annoyance, but Soontir could see a slight grin on her face.
"Are you staying?" Jaina asked her mother.
Leia shook her head, "No, we're going to help Lando at Velusia."
Soontir turned away from the conversation when Han appeared. He shook Han's hand, "Need anything before you head out?"
"Nah," Han commented. Soontir bid Han and Leia good luck, and then turned to leave the hanger. He made it halfway to the elevator when his comm pinged. He removed it from his pocket and answered it, "Fel."
"Sir, it's time."
Cirrus had quickly become Nichos's favorite world. Its rolling beaches and golden oceans were inviting and soothing. It was hot, as any world with two suns would be. Several urban centers dotted the landscape. If the planet wasn't crawling with Vong, it would be a great place to live. They had destroyed the larger cities, but some of the small, more remote areas were still intact.
Nichos was standing in what used to be a high-scale eating establishment. All the mechanical equipment had been smashed. He and a few others managed to cobble together a workable stove and refrigerator unit. They were able to store any fish they caught in the ocean.
Nichos and his group had taken a different approach than the other teams. The camps on Cirrus were less organized than on other planets. The slave settlements were located just outside of the cities. The slaves who weren't cultivating amphistaffs dismantled the once thriving urban centers. The parts were thrown into the pit to be eaten by the maw luur next to the sacrificial pit in the main city. After spying on the camps, Nichos' team had decided traditional methods wouldn't work.
Pax, one of the team members, entered the room. He tossed a crude longblaster on one of the tables. He sat down in one of the chairs, propped his feet on the table and locked his hands behind his head. "You aren't going to believe what Mae found."
"What?" Nichos asked.
"A backup team. She's bringing them in now. Four more people, plus weapons. They told her that the military is sending some help. Empire, I think," he explained.
"Any Jedi?"
"No idea," Pax responded.
"How much fire power do they have?"
"Enough detonators to blow up four city blocks," Pax said with a grin.
"Perfect," he said. He, Pax and Mae had been poisoning the amphistaff fields for a week now. The living weapons weren't dead, but had weakened.
"I was thinking we'd strike at the next mass sacrifice," Nichos suggested. "All the Vong will be present."
Pax nodded, "Good idea. We'll bounce the idea off Mae and the new people."
Nichos sat down across from Pax. He glanced around the room. If he made it out of this alive, after he took care of Stav's request, he would come back here and try to get involved in remodeling this place. He hadn't been there long, but he could see a future in the old, broken restaurant.
It was something to hope for.
Jag's teeth rattled as he looped around the three coralskippers harassing his wingmates. The skips separated, two following Jag. He flipped his Clawcraft to the right to avoid the barrage of plasma trying to kill him. One of his wingmates destroyed one of the skips. He managed to move behind the second skip and take it out.
A large corvette was guarding the planet, loaded to capacity with coralskippers. A yammosk was controlling the pilots, taking away the advantage many had become used to. The Dozen had been assigned to finding and destroying the war coordinator. With four Jedi using shadow bombs, it was hoped they could take it out easier than a regular squadron. Jag and his squadron were trying to clear a path for the rescue vehicles and strike teams to land on the planet.
"Dozen One, what's the status on that yammosk?" control asked. Jag couldn't identify who was speaking.
"We're working on it," Jaina's voice snapped over the comm. Jag glanced down at his screen to find her marker. She was quite a ways away, surrounded by coralskippers. He wanted more than anything to help her, but he couldn't.
"Spike Lead," a voice called over a private channel. It was Lieutenant Colonel Arnjak, leader of the Imperial Grey Squadron.
"Yes, Colonel?"
"The frigate is showing signs of weakening on the port side. A couple well-placed torps would take it out," she said.
Half the Grey Squadron had been destroyed. The remaining members were still hammering at the frigate. Jag responded, "Coming around in two minutes."
Jag led half of his squadron to help the frigate. As he flew around, cheers erupted across the comm channel.
"Yehaw!"
"Yommask is gone!"
"Great job, all. Now let's go clear a path for those shuttles," Jaina's voice said cutting over the chatter.
Jag flipped to her channel, "Jaina, do you have any shadow bombs left?"
"Yes," she responded tiredly.
"They need help with the frigate."
"I've got two left," she confirmed. "You leading in?"
"What happened to Kole and Damansa?" he asked, referring to the rest of her flight group. Kyp was leading Flight Two, Lowie Flight Three and Zekk Flight Four.
"Dead," she said solemnly. "I'm honing in on your signal."
Jag fell silent. He, like Jaina, couldn't focus on who had died until after the fight. Mourning the dead in the midst of a battle would only get them killed. He followed the coordinates to the weakened side of the frigate. Jaina's X-Wing appeared beside him. A large scorch mark coved the fuselage. Jag swallowed nervously at the sight.
"I've got two flights working on distracting the dovin basals," Jag stated.
"Got it. Ready?"
"Launch it," he responded. He and Jaina had done this countless times with the shadow bombs. They no longer needed to go through instructions. Jag began to fly toward the frigate, the shadow bomb trailing his Clawcraft. He knew his wingmates were providing cover. Jag got as close to the frigate as possible and then turned sharply as Jaina guided the bomb in.
The back end of the frigate crumbled as the bomb exploded. As it split into two pieces, the remainders of the TIE squadron decimated the remains.
"We'll cover your run to the planet," Jaina stated. "Be careful, Jag."
Before he could respond, she switched to the main channel and started giving out orders. Jag instructed the Spikes to follow her lead as he and the remaining TIE fighters moved to escort the transports and strike teams. Only four TIE pilots remained of the original twelve.
"Captain Zerga," Jag said into the comm after dialing the frequency of the smuggler piloting the shuttle to the planet.
"Loud and clear kid," the man drawled. "Ready to head down?"
Jag rattled off the approach vector. He followed alongside the shuttle Last Chance. The atmosphere of Chandrilla was relatively calm. Jaina and the others were effectively keeping the coralskippers off their backs. Without the yammosks controlling the crafts, the coralskipper pilots were forced to use their own wits.
"Wow," one of the pilots breathed in awe over the comm. Jag had to agree. Columns of smoke swirled through the air. Chiss attack shuttles sped ahead of them, blasting large structures out of the way. Jag winced as a group of beings raced out of the way. They were like pinpricks on a painting, but he knew what they were. He hoped that innocent lives weren't being shed, even though he knew better
The Last Chance landed at the assigned point. The escort fights settled in a loose circle around the shuttle. Jag quickly switched the craft to standby and exited the cockpit, charric in hand. Tam Zerga strode down the shuttle ramp, blaster ready.
Jag lifted his comlink to his lips as he dialed the correct frequency for one of the contacts, Thea Marr. She responded immediately, "This is Marr. What?"
"What's your position?" Jag asked. As he spoke, two Vong Warriors ran towards the ship. One began throwing thud bugs at the pilots. Jag aimed and fired, the bolt catching the Warrior in the neck. It didn't take him down, but slowed him. Another pilot's shot hit his knee, causing the Warrior to fall to the ground. He continued to throw thud bugs. Zerga's shot finally killed the Warrior. The other fell a second later. All during this, Marr described the area she was. She said she witnessed Jag's landing and would be there soon. She had most of the slaves with her.
"Ah!" one of the pilots yelped as a thud bug hit her arm. Her arm hung limply at her side as she continued to shoot at the approaching Vong. One of the other pilots, still wearing his helmet, ran forward to help her. The Warrior fell quickly, as the others had.
"Stay here," Jag ordered the pilots and Zerga. He gestured to the pilot behind him, "Come with me. What's your name?"
"Lieutenant Misa Terrello," he said as he followed Jag. To their right, a Chiss troop transport lowered next to them. A platoon jumped out and ran forward. The clearing the shuttle had landed in was at the edge of a forest. Jag and Misa walked along the trees. It was safer than running out in the open.
"The slave group and team are over there," Jag said. Misa nodded as they ran. Both men kept glancing towards the trees for any Vong hiding in the forest.
An amphistaff wrapped around Jag's arm from behind, jerking him backwards and knocking his charric from his hand. His entire body stiffened as the Warrior pulled. Jag growled, irritated that he hadn't seen him coming. He glanced over and saw that Misa was engaged with another Warrior. His blaster had been knocked from his grasp. He rolled back and forth trying to avoid the crushing blow from the amphistaff. Meanwhile, Jag swung his fist towards the Vong's head. The Warrior ducked, whipping Jag around. The Warrior pressed a coufee into his side. Jag could feel it cut through the fabric of his flightsuit and into his skin. Blood began to roll down his hip. Jag jerked down and kicked his leg. The Warrior's leg snapped back, knocking Jag to the ground with him. The amphistaff yanked on his arm, pulling his shoulder from its socket. As the Warrior fell to the ground, Jag was able to pry the coufee out of his grip. He elbowed the Warrior in the stomach as he twisted around and slashed his throat. The Vong continued to struggle as blood poured from the gash on his neck. He finally fell dead. The amphistaff loosened its grip, freeing Jag's arm. He scrambled for his blaster and turned to where Terrello was trying to evade the Vong. Jag shot at the Warrior, first catching him in the kidneys, and then behind the knee. Taking advantage of the distraction, Misa found his blaster and shot the Warrior in the neck were his armor gapped.
Jag stumbled over to Misa and helped him stand. The man had a large lump on his forehead, a cut on his cheek and he was limping slightly.
"You're bleeding," Misa said, gesturing to Jag's side.
Jag waved his hand dismissively. He reached down and picked up the bloody coufee off the ground. He wiped off some of the blood on his uniform leg as he instructed, "They're right up there. Let's go."
Britna crouched next to a large boulder. Five slaves were surrounding her. Alliance shuttles had landed roughly thirty minutes ago. They were being slaughtered. The damuteks and other structures had fallen successfully, but the Vong weren't giving up. Shapers were fighting with the ferocity of Warriors.
Britna clutched a stolen blaster. She had found it on the ground by a dead Galactic Alliance soldier. His blood still covered the handle. Britna tried not to think about it, or even look at the handle. She pressed her back into the rock.
"What now?" Lyn growled. He was holding a spear he had fashioned earlier that day. His left cheek was split open. One eye was swelling shut from where a Shaper had sprayed something in his eye.
Britna shrugged. She didn't know what to do. She wasn't a military leader. She couldn't make the decision that would dictate if these people lived or died.
"We fight," Katy responded. She tucked her ragged blond hair behind her ear. She was from Bakura. A tattoo of the Balance symbol was on her collarbone. She was armed with a vibroblade and stolen amphistaff. She picked up a medium sized rock from the ground and gripped it tightly. "We are going to die. We may as well make it worth it."
The others nodded their heads slowly. Britna furrowed her brow. She didn't want to die. She wanted to find a new home and maybe get married and have children one day. She was no hero. She had survived the Vong once before. It seemed unfair that she couldn't this time. However, she thought, she couldn't tempt fate again and just walk away. She swallowed nervously. She had always been afraid of death. Once you died, that was it. She was one of billions. No one would remember her. It would be as if she wasn't even there.
No, she thought quickly, Jacen would remember her. It was a small comfort, but not enough to ease her fears.
"Britna?" Katy said. "Are you ready?"
Britna looked at each of the slaves. They looked determined, frightened, tired and angry. Katy seemed to figure out what she was thinking and rested a hand on her shoulder, "Britna, thank you for coming here. Hearing about our home made these last days much easier."
Britna gave her a small, grateful smile. She readjusted her grip on the bloody blaster handle. Lyn gave them all a nod and he lurched forward. He screamed an indeterminable cry as he ran headfirst into the fray. He swung his spear into the closest Vong, a Shaper Adept. He pushed it into her side and twisted. She clawed at his face, the instruments of her Shaper's hand gouging into his flesh. He let out a warbled, pained scream but didn't stop. Britna watched in horrified fascination as the two struggled and then collapsed in a dead heap.
The slaves sat silently for a second, and then they all charged. Britna felt a sense of strength, as if Lyne's sacrifice was fueling her veins. It was as he had passed on his energy, drive and determination. Britna let out a yell and charged forward…
The tactical displays in the Steadfast flashed as fights winked out of existence. Compared with other battles, this one was fairly small. The problem was that three squadrons simply couldn't take out a yammosk, frigate and dozens of coralskippers. Soontir had to admit, much to the annoyance of many of the Chiss Council members, that their success so far would have been impossible without the three Jedi.
Two smuggler ships were transporting the team members and slaves off the planet. The Yuuzhan Vong weren't the only ones lacking wartime materials. How Jag had managed to procure shuttles to transport his teams, Soontir had no idea. He had no spare shuttles aboard the Steadfast.
"We got to get out of here," Atelia Oberal, captain of the Ryll Runner, barked over the comm.
"There's no clear vector," one of the communication officers responded.
"Well, it's either stay down here and have my ship sliced apart like a nerf roast or take my chances getting shot down. I think I'll take my chances in the air," she snapped back.
"Sir, what should we do?" the officer asked.
Soontir toggled the comm switch on his board. He said, "Captain Oberal, go ahead and take off. We'll send you an escort."
"Wasn't waiting for your permission, but thanks," she retorted. Soontir ignored her tone and relayed exit vectors. He then needed to find someone to escort the ship. He instructed the control to relay the orders to Jaina. He had to come up with something quick.