Episode 7: The Battle of Ragoon VI
She didn't walk aimlessly beneath the full moon, though it may seem that way, F lets the Force guide her to fulfill the question plaguing her since finding out the terrible truth.
What can she do when she's just one fallen Jedi?
A million things could go wrong tomorrow that risk endangering the lives of thousands, she knows her duty is to prevent these from happening but is this task beyond her own skills? F accepted that it is, but no task was done ever truly alone. She knows and trusts the Ragoonians will do everything in their power to prevent disaster, instead, F seeks the aid of something bigger than either of them.
F opens her eyes and uncovers a small pyramid structure, quickly climbs up its stone steps till she finds a green butterfly at the top. "You again…" she recognizes, "what are you, really?" The being doesn't answer, flying away when three more presences appear.
F feels a special power in the air as the moon now shined directly down on her. She feels it's connected with the Force but is also different, attached to the very core of this world and all its living things. The three beings before her, a Malia, Uruk, and a flying serpent felt connected to this strange power. Both by impulse and out of respect, F bows to the three creatures whose left eyes shined gold while the right eyes shined silver.
She humbly says, "I felt this energy, connected with every living thing on this planet, it was like swimming in an ocean of living energy at times. It's only now that I see that it's not just the Force, but connected with the both of you."
The creatures, the avatars of something greater, were silent.
"But I did not come to ask who you are, but to request that you intervene," she whispers. "I understand now how deeply tied this world is to you, and that you backed it with so many gifts already. I also come with a warning of its fate if nothing is done. Great darkness has unbalanced the Force and now this imbalance threatens this world, as well as many others."
The creatures stay silent before their eyes stop glowing. F looks up to see the creatures revert to their normal selves and wander off. "W-wait! What does this mean?! You don't mean to abandon the Ragoonians?! They need you for their survival!" F watched as the figures disappeared and the moon's light shifted and faded away.
F didn't give up, however, "Don't let this imbalance sway you to the dark!" she pleads, "please we…I can't do this alone…" F nearly falls to her knees as she staggers down the steps. "Did we fail before the battle even began?" she questions until finding at the bottom a Malia pup waiting for her. He barks before giving her a strange whistle, it was of a creature she had never seen or heard before.
Before she could ask the pup runs off, leaving F only the carving. She doesn't know what this means, but carrying it steadied her anxiety. "Fine…when the time is right then, though I fear it'll already be too late," she whispers before heading back to the city. Above she spots the glowing butterfly and chuckles, "heh, fine, I don't mind the company."
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Birds chirp in the air as the fog of war descended into the misty valley at the crack of dawn, the once quiet land was about to erupt.
Two long columns of OteroaCorp mercenaries, each numbering close to a thousand, march through a foggy field of tall grass. Hundreds of old cut tree stumps are the only signifiers that a lush forest once stood here. Their boots sink into the mud and water that was built up from moisture resulting in most soldiers having flashlights attached to their shoulders to guide them through the fog. Beside them was the wide paved road where their armor drove through the fog.
They possessed six TX-130 Saber -class fighter tanks with twelve AT-RT scout walkers beside them. At the front of the vehicle, the column was a terrifying HAVw A6 Juggernaut or Turbo tank carrying three hundred troops and armed with heavy guns. On top of the Turbo tank were twenty-two purge troopers with their leader Commander Frost looking out to the fog. He looks down at the light made by the mercs, "so damn insistent on the lights," he recalls the Presidente's words. He had confidence in their numbers and armament but also knew his former commander would take advantage of unconventional factors such as the light exposing their position and this sudden dense fog.
'Where are you, commander?' Frost thought, his eyes peeking at any potential spot she could be at. 'Are you waiting for us in the woods beyond, ready to collapse the whole forest on top of us? Perhaps planning to pick us off slowly? Are you flying above us now in your ship?'
Looking back down at these mercenaries, Frost could see how they could be easy pickings for F. "Their boots are of poor quality, it'll make it difficult running through this environment and they're carrying too much equipment." A sound from above draws his attention. He hears the roar of their starfighters flying above and is able to get a peek at the twelve V-19 Torrent starfighters or Onyx Squadron. He supposes if they do face an ambush then a simple order from him would lead to a devastating bombardment over these fields. Unless, of course, his commander possesses her spacecraft then his air support will be in dire trouble.
'I nearly had her in that dogfight,' he remembers, 'her craftiness got the better of me. I should've figured that.'
They approach a divide in the road, going left will take them to the river, and up ahead will lead to a dense forest where their objective lies beyond. Frost and the rest of the mercs suspect that's where resistance will certainly be met, but they all shared the same idea that it will be a standard clean-up of pests. None paid much mind to the sound of wildlife around them, wholly unaware that these sounds were artificial.
Suddenly, a sharp ear-piercing whistle is heard through the loud tumbling of their heavy vehicles and equipment. Confusion erupts from among the ranks with some even firing pot shots into the mist to kill any animal responsible for the screeching. Frost was the only one to stand unaffected by the screech, carefully listening before crying out, "Rifles up! It's an ambush!"
His order came a second too late. while using the fog, grass, and stumps as cover.
From both ends of the road sprang up over a hundred Ragoonian soldiers from trap doors, aiming down their long rifles at the array of lights before firing. Screams and cries erupt from the mercenaries, lifeless bodies fall into the mud after green plasma bolts burn through them. For seven seconds the panicked mercs appeared helpless against the surprise attack. Frost looks below with little pity, 'Slaughter as many of these mooks as you want, commander. The mission is all that matters and you've just exposed yourself,' Frost thinks.
"Troopers, get down there and get these mercs into proper formation!" Frost commands when a fire erupts in the distance. He watches as a crude rocket flies and destroys an AT-RT and gets on comms as his men descend down, "Armor leader, have each half of your vehicles provide supporting fire on both our flanks."
Frost pulls out his binoculars to get a good look at the enemy, he's half-impressed to find that each of them is firing from foxholes with only their heads poking out. As well as using the cover of fog, grass and even the tree stumps he admits the enemy is dug in. He watches as the mercs form proper defensive battle lines with armor support blasting anywhere they suspect is a Ragoonian rifleman. Another rocket fires and ricochets off a tank in the distance.
"Their firepower is lackluster," Frost observes, "However, they're too much of a distraction to ignore or pick off quickly. Just what are you planning to do, Commander? What's there to protect?" He gets on comms and orders, "Armor leader, press an attack towards the river. The Turbo Tank will guard the rear."
Their armor begins pressing all fire towards one side as the loud engines of the turning Juggernaut shake the earth. Several mercs charge ahead beside them until several explosions erupt from the ground. "They set up anti-personnel mines," Frost observes, watching through his visor as dozens of men are wounded or killed and halting their charge. "Don't stop, any of you! They don't have enough for all of us!" he shouts, confident his fellow clones down there will discipline these men to follow his order.
On top of the Turbo Tank, he observes the vehicles close in on the foxholes, mercs forming into coordinated attack teams with some even firing mortars. The eruption of green and red balls of fire shook the ground. The Juggernaut meanwhile shifts its heavyweight to guard the rear by firing heavy rockets and cannons. A minute later, the Ragoonian's barrage of green plasma fire whittles down, then a loud whistle is heard as figures in the mist fall back.
Frosts watch hundreds of mercs charge past the line of mines and their fallen mercenaries and gets on his communicator, "1st battalion leader, get me visuals of the enemy's location." The turbo tank follows the charge once their rear is secured and Frost receives the coordinates he wants before switching communicators, "Onyx leader, prepare a bombing strafe on these coordinates."
"Right away, Commander."
Through his binoculars, Frost sees the front of the charge going at a steady pace and receiving fewer casualties than in the initial ambush. He passes the first row of foxholes and is surprised to spot only a few losses amongst the Ragoonian ranks. 'Why retreat so quickly?' he wonders while the sounds of ships close in. He gazes up to see Onyx squadron form up and prepare to fire to decimate the Ragoonian forces.
Then a glint of light is seen behind the fighters.
Frost gasps when fire erupts in the sky, two explosions are heard and the Onyx leader shouts into the comms, "Who is firing?! Split formation now!" Frost can only watch as all but two split up with these shot-down starfighters hurtling into two tanks and three walkers, the fire caused by the crash either scorching or scattering their ranks. It was only the discipline of Purge troopers below that kept dozens of men from deserting.
"Commander, what the hell happened?!" Frost's right-hand man questioned.
Frost didn't answer as he watched a familiar Z-95 starfighter appear from the mist and fire two proton torpedoes. Frost ducks for cover, feeling one torpedo hit the juggernaut's rear while hearing the other hit another tank and surrounding mercs. Frosts grunts upon seeing the turbo tank's rear wheels disabled, "get engineers on those wheels!" he barked, "Onyx leader, blast that Jedi out of the sky!"
"Commander," one clone says after climbing out of the tank, "Montar is requesting you."
Frosts activate his electro-staff while staring up at the sky, "ignore him. Get every clone and merc in this tank out onto the battlefield. We're redirecting our attack back to our main objective. They're only luring us away from the woodlands which are less than a click away, they want us to be distracted."
"Yes, sir!" The clone salutes, leaving Frost alone on top of the tank while heavy fire rages on.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/
"Four. Already down to four torpedoes," F whispers to herself as her computer does the work of loading up two proton torpedoes. Peeking through her digital scope to get a closer look below, F sees the enemy attack has stopped. She turns on comms with the commander of the Ragoonian forces. "Atawa," she says, "they've stopped taking the bait and are heading back towards the woodlands."
"That's quicker than I hoped but nonetheless expected," Atawa sighs, noticeably out of breath with the background echoing scattered plasma fire and shouting of orders among warriors. "We have no choice but to pursue and keep harassing their rear guard. Buy enough time for our forces in the woodland to dig in."
"If we're buying time, then another bombing run on that Juggernaut should do it," F suggests.
"No, focus all your firepower on eliminating their air support. Our forces have nothing to combat them, even one starfighter could shatter our defenses."
A distant roar of enemy starfighters alerts F of their presence. "Understood," she says, "stay safe down there." She steers her ship upward until she's out of the thick fog covering the valley and is flying through the clear purple morning sky. With time she could appreciate the wonderful sight if her sensors warned her of starfighters closing in on her position. Steadying her craft and reloading her blaster cannons, F spots ten silhouettes in the distance.
"Ten against one...should've loaded more torpedoes," F tells herself before a hail of plasma comes her way. She spins and climbs her starfighter further up the air, knowing her engines can outpace the lasers as the enemy follows. After a while, F senses five closing in on her tail and spots the other five already swinging around and ready to flank her left in the far distance. "Fast and nimble as always," F groans.
Pressing on a few heavy buttons and flipping a few switches, F activates her modified attitude thruster and her fighter bursts towards the splintered fighters. Jiro's special modifications continue to surprise her foes, the split-off fighters didn't have a chance to maneuver when F fires her guns. Her blasters flash with the ferocity of lightning bolts, ripping through two V-19s that burst apart like fireworks. F sees how their tight formation betrayed them as the debris collides and destroys another V-19 starfighter. The remaining two split off and climbed up the air, F deactivating her thrusters and climbing up, the distance between them and the main fighter squad even greater.
Her ship rumbles and her computer shines red warning of her deflector shield taking damage. "Definitely quick as always," F grunts, performing quick maneuvers and avoiding any further shield damage from the two fighters. She couldn't shake them off, not up in the open sky, F adjusts her flight stick and dives into a snowy mountain range. Passing through a layer of clouds, a wall of rock suddenly appears and she makes a sharp right.
F hugged dangerously close to the mountain, the power of her engines causing small rubble and snow to fall around her. A blast hits the mountainside, reminding F of her pursuers. Even with this treacherous environment, the plasma fire didn't let up. F spots she's quickly approaching a tall mountain wall with a thick mountain arch making a hole large enough for a starfighter to fly through. Quickly thinking of a way to use this to her advantage, her ship rumbles when one of her blaster's cannons is hit, the sight of it smoking showed that it was disabled.
"Blast it," F mumbles, switching to her proton torpedoes and aiming for the arch. She steadily waits before firing the two torpedos, watching the two red dots blow up the arch overhead. Flying through, F drives her fighter downward to avoid the collapsing boulders, dust coating her ship as the sounds of explosions are heard from behind. She sighs in brief relief, "five down, five to go."
Flying back to the main battlefield to locate the remaining fighters F spots smoke rising from the colony town. "It's coming from the prison," she whispers, "Sinta, you better be safe down there."
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Sinta kept up with two Ragoonian scouts as they approached the settlement's high walls. Swimming under the guard's detection, Sinta is pulled out upon finding a way into the prison holding their people. It was a rustic drainage pipe with an iron grate pouring out a mixture of rock and water, likely from the underground levels. Sinta makes sure a nearby watchtower doesn't notice as the two scouts slowly but surely break off the grate. Sinta looked in, confirming the pipe was indeed only large enough for a kid his age, he also knew the smell was quite rancid and the prison was yards away.
"Take this," one of the scouts tells Sinta, handing him a small round device with a pieced end. "Stab that into your sister's cell and it'll release enough static to short circuit the lock, opening it. Let them take care of the rest."
He shakes off his worry over this hurdle, takes a deep breath, and begins his long crawl into the prison carrying with him a candle and club. The rocky sludge reached up to his chin, his arms grew tired as the substance became more difficult to crawl through. For a moment, he worries if he's still not small enough and he'll end up stuck here, but he ignores these worries and thinks about what F would do. She wouldn't let some smell, sludge, or crawling get in the way. Following her example, Sinta pushes forward faster than before, thinking only about his family.
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Commander Frost fires his rifle blaster beside the Juggernaut tank's main blaster cannon. The tank guarded the rear of the force, something that can be done more efficiently if the vehicle's wheels weren't damaged. Frost aims and fires, even with this thick fog he's confident he stuck his target. Even with their heavy fire, the Ragoonian soldiers persistently fought back even when stretched thin. Hundreds of blast marks riddled the tank, even Frost himself was shot twice with his armor protecting him both times. He was willing to admit when the enemy was a good shot.
Though his tank was slow, it was close enough to the main force that he saw the enemy's harassment was taking its toll. If Frost has to guess, with every warrior they confirmed to have struck, the Ragoonians took out two to three mercenaries with them. Frost expected a battle of attrition and ensured to play their game.
"Fire!" He orders the Tank's rear heavy laser to aim and fires a large blast into the Ragoonian lines. Blue illuminates their obscured lines, the cannons of the remaining tanks and walkers growing hot with rapid-fire. Amidst this barrage, three glowing green projectiles burst out of the Ragoonian lines and exploded onto their lines. Frost saw as one bounced off a tank while the other two destroyed a walker and struck a group of mercs.
"Sir, we got more company!" a voice blared through Frost's mic. He pulls out binoculars and looks at their front lines, above them were small three manned flying machines. They flew as high as a tree, their pilots circling around their forces and avoiding blaster fire while two gunners fired heavy repeating rifles onto their forces.
Frost quickly asks his engineers, "we need this tank moving now!"
Within moments, he felt a loud rumble inside the tank. "Sir, the juggernaut is now fully operational. Your orders?"
"Get us on the frontlines and shoot these pests down!" he shouts, the wheels of the massive tank rolling smoothly and quickly. With a closer look, he first saw they were approaching the dense woodlands, now was the time to make a breakthrough, "Ram their lines, full throttle!" he commands as roars from his soldiers behind the tank are heard. He switched places with the tank's gunner and began firing at the Ragoonian low air support. One is struck and crashes besides the tank as it hurtles through the first trees.
Rows of mercs run beside the turbo tank, stomping and breaking through the lush forest foliage at terrifying speed. The remaining flying machines come out of the treetops, firing at Frost's forces as they blow their horns. Frost aims the mounted gun when he saw what the signal meant before his eyes popped out over a hundred warriors from the branches and leaves throwing dozens of hand bombs on top of them.
Two managed to land into his gunner seat, forcing Frost to jump out as the blast destroys the turret. He saw the bombs blow up dozens of soldiers amongst thier ranks and wounding those around them. Their brisk pace slowed further when plasma fire erupted, coming from above and from a long trench line ahead. Around them were boulders almost the size of the Turbo tank's already massive wheels. Frost saw that any way around this line would only cost time and men, so he gave his command, "blow these trees to shreds with the cannons and get our remaining forces to attack their lines. I want enough demolitions on those rocks to blow it sky high! Don't stop moving forward or I'll shoot you myself!"
With the command, their remaining vehicles open fire to the treeline with their troops focused on trying to break through the Ragoonian lines. The turbo tank's smaller turrets open fire, portholes open on the sides with soldiers' blasters poking out and fire into the trees. The thick stems of several trees are shot through, resulting in many crashing into the ground.
"Let them have it!" one of Frost's purge troopers shout, leading a company of mercs along with some demo men. Frost reloads his blaster when he spots a flying machine swooping by, he's too late when its blaster rips through the company's lines and an explosion erupts from one of the demo men. Out of the smoke, Frost sees the clone leading them lying dead, the force of the explosion likely snapping his neck.
The commander stands frozen for a second when a sharp pain inside his head snaps him out of it. He fires his blaster, his mind driven to only win this battle and kill the Jedi.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Steam hissed out of cracks around Sinta as he crawled through, though the hot air and rumbling outside made this endeavor more arduous; it was also a sign he was directly under the prison. Sinta's arms arched from the bruises on his shoulders and elbows, his brow sweated from the humidity that was unlike anything he felt. In a stretched-out grunt, he stretched his candle out for any sign of an exit. He squinted his eyes and saw a red glow at the end of the tunnel, the sight of the exit caused him to drop his candle and quickly crawl forward in the dark.
Suddenly, a surge of water and rock spews out, Sinta is able to hold his breath and takes the brunt of the surge. Even with no air pocket and slowed by the rushing water, Sinta pushed forward with all his strength even as his lungs burned. His arms felt weak as he stretched out his hand and grabbed onto the end of the pipe, with a great pull Sinta's hands were free and he pulled himself out of the pipe and into some vat of this rock water. With a kick of his feet, Sinta gasped for air and saw he was in some disposal chamber. After a moment's rest, Sinta spots a walkway beside these steel vats and grabs onto their small ladders.
He quietly roams the cold, steel walls illuminated by oppressively bright red lights, climbing up flights of stairs to find the cell block his sister's group is held in. Roaming a long empty hall, he spies through the tinted windows to see a vast room where his people work through large machines to refine many of the ore taken from the colony's massive factory. His blood boils seeing hundreds of his people in chains and threatened at gunpoint by a mere dozen or so guards. He hurries to an elevator, pressing on the highest floor in hopes it's at least one of the cell blocks.
Once there, he steps out to another windowed hallway and finds a vast room of ray-shielded prison cells. He squints to see if any of the numbers on them were the ones of his sister when he hears chatter echo. Sinta panics and bumps into a two-legged droid that was a walking trash can, he quickly checks if he can fit before hopping inside. Thankfully the droid doesn't care and keeps walking, Sinta holds his breath as he hears the guard's chatter grow closer.
It then becomes quiet, Sinta peeks his head out to see they're long gone. He pats the droid as a sign of thanks before locating a directory map on one of the walls. Seeing no clear sign down or his sister's cell number, his frustration grows. 'I don't have time to run around!' he thinks, banging his head on the posted map. He sighs and rugs his forehead when he spots a particularly close room. Though his basics were still rusty, thanks to his time with F he's able to read the room in question as: "Master Control Room."
His head ponders this, 'Master? So it's the most important of its kind. Control room…would it be connected with electronic stuff? So…if this is the most important connector to the prison's electronic systems…then disabling it will not only free my sis but everyone else!' Ingraining the way there into his head, he heads to the elevator and goes up.
Reaching the top floor of the prison, he faces only a lone hallway with a door at the end. With his keen hearing, he hears footsteps closing in on the other end of the door. Readying his club, Sinta starts limping forward before gaining momentum and running as fast as he could. The door opens to a guard, shocked at seeing Sinta and pulling out a blaster. Sinta raises his club and throws it to his face, the impressive speed of the throw enough to knock the guard out upon impact.
He hops over the fallen guard and sees three workers jump in surprise. Sinta saw one reach for a blaster so he threw some of his volcanic daggers, striking his knee and neck. The other two try rushing at Sinta with wild punches but he quickly dodges them by leaping onto the long panel and throwing his daggers, finishing them. He finds himself staring at the bodies for a moment and easies this woozy feeling in his stomach. Inspecting the gray control panel, Sinta wonders if he can disable it when something from the monitors above catches his attention. He gasps upon seeing it's his sister and a few colleagues being dragged along to their cell with bruises across their arms and faces.
'Curse them! This ends now!' he thinks, pulling out the small EMP before jamming it onto the machine. The electrical discharge it caused grew until the whole panel was rippling with electricity, so bright and hectic that bolts struck Sinta, including his good leg. He screams from the wave of electricity, his knee badly burnt. Finally, the electricity fizzles out and a loud alarm blares across the prison. The shock left Sinta lying on the floor, his hearing fuzzy but working enough to hear noise from the Monitors. Sinta squints one eye open to see entire cell blocks opening, not a moment passes until his people cry out, "No More!" across the terrible complex.
In one monitor, a mob of Ragoonians rush and incapacitate some confused guards. In another, Ragoonians have already stolen weapons and began shooting at guards in the refinery below, slowly freeing each prisoner down there. In another, his sister and colleagues use the shock of the riot to kill the guards before heading to the cell block to rally up every prisoner in there. Sinta lets out a weak chuckle in relief at what's happening on the monitors. Feeling the floor rumble made it seem like the whole prison was shaking, falling apart from those trapped inside breaking out to reclaim their freedom.
Sinta wished to join them, to see her family again, but both his whole body refused him the opportunity to do so. An explosion erupts, likely from below, it's not too long before the support beams of the command center bend and crack. Even taking the elevator won't save him now, but Sinta lets the gods decide his fate, he feels nothing but ease knowing his people will win this day and many after that. As the center collapses, crashing through the roof, he only wished to have shared this victory with F, his people, and his family.
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A boom echoes in the sky, and fire and smoke erupt as three starfighters speed through the air. F's fighter evades the last two V-19s even as sparks burst from wounds on her ship. With a sharp turn, F is able to get her sights onto a V-19, steadily aiming her last torpedo until the targeting computer had him locked. She fires and destroys the V-19, though her ability to keep fighting was less than proficient. She senses and maneuvers her ship to the last V-19 when she spots plasma fire and smoke from the forest below.
"So much death," F gasps, her breath shuddering from sensing the violence and ferocity of the battle. "Atawa, do you copy?!" She calls from her communicator but hears nothing but static and blasters. Clearing through the forest was the Turbo Tank, rolling over any tree in its way. There was nothing her fighter could do to stop that mechanical monstrosity. She senses despair growing among some of the Ragoonians. Their growing desperation to hold the line as the overwhelming death of those around them wavers their spirits. Everyone is trying to survive while watching their comrades, friends, brothers, and sisters fall one by one.
Her heart couldn't take such cruelty, not again. She must get down there.
In a move that surprises the last V-19, F flies over the forest before going straight up into the air. Climbing altitude quickly, she turned back and saw the V-19 taking the bait and began tailing her. Her heart raced as she unbuckled herself and activated the ship's autopilot system to get it out of the battlefield. Plasma fire narrowly missed her fighter as she pushed open the cockpit and stepped out, gripping tightly onto the ship as roaring winds pushed against her. Her robes and hair flapping wildly in such dangerously high altitudes, her knuckles white as she steadily aims herself.
Eyeballing the distance between them, their speed, and the force of the wind currents, F ignites her lightsaber before leaping off her ship and diving into the V-19. For a few seconds, she was in total free fall with only the wind and her diving technique stirring her. She deflects a few shots before using her blade to stab onto the top of the V-19, right in front of the shocked pilot and his two engines. Before he could shake her off, she lifts her weapon and slashes one of his engines.
The V-19 immediately began to falter. F glared at the terrified pilot as she raised her saber, and before she could strike down the pilot panicked and ejects out of the fighter. "No time to lose," she tells herself as she hops in and grips the flight stick. Veering the fighter around and diving towards the enemy lines, specifically at the Turbo Tank. Her arm shook while steadying the ship, bracing against the speed and the fact she's really doing this. F tries only to focus on the distance and speed, gauging her next actions as soldiers below realize what's hurtling towards them.
'Hold…hold…now!' she yells at herself, backing and flipping off the ship a few dozen meters above the treeline. She grabbed onto a tree branch with a clear view of the V-19 colliding with the metal beast who bursts into a ball of fire and smoke. For a few moments, the shocking spectacle catches nearly everyone's attention, gasping at the massive vehicle now but a burning husk split in two.
F catches her breath and leaps from tree to tree, signaling to the remaining Ragoonian snipers to reload and hold their fire. She leaps down and past the half-blown-up boulders into the main Ragoonian line. The sight of their trenches was a grim reminder of the clone war, lines of wounded still firing with blankets covering a few piles of the dead. F runs through the lines to find Atawa, his leg badly wounded from a blaster bolt.
He glances at her and gives a pained smirk, "seems your little stunt forced them to hunker down and strategize." He turns to the field, close enough to see figures in the distance, "don't know how long this little ceasefire will last, perhaps three minutes if we're lucky."
"Then let's hope we're lucky," F sighs in worry, using this brief moment to think of their next plan of acting when Atawa speaks.
"Jedi never cease to surprise me."
F softly chuckles while sitting down, "trust me, I'm surprised by my own recklessness sometimes…but I also couldn't stay up there while your people were suffering." Atawa turns quiet, a solemn look in his eyes as he looks at warriors with wounds that'll scar them forever.
"If we're being honest…I'm at a loss of what to do now," Atawa shares with deep sadness.
F knew where his pain was coming from, how it could so easily consume one to despair. For a moment she falters on what to do when she feels something on her hand. The glowing butterfly was on her hand which hovered over her duffle bag. F nods while pulling out the whistle, knowing the time is now and blows it. Rather than a great, booming noise, she heard practically nothing, like it was a dog whistle.
F looks confused before a strong wind brush through the trees, sensing a powerful presence in the air. "I see now…" she whispers when a sniper warns of the enemy getting ready for a counterattack. She turns to Atawa and asks, "how far are we from the city?"
"Too close."
"Get as many wounded backs to the city and send runners with them to retrieve any spare ammo, medicinal potions, and explosives. Have everyone else wait for my signal to charge."
"Charge?!" Atawa gasps at the borderline suicidal plan of attack, "Young one, I count only a sixth of us in fighting shape and we have no word yet if the riot at the colony has even succeeded. Yet still, you think a full frontal assault is the best call?" Atawa hisses from the sharp pain from his wound, but he stops F from helping and sighs, "As much as it pains me to say, we must remain cautious and fall back. Without most of their heavy equipment, it will make besieging our city a nightmare for them."
"And for your people, for the many families of your warriors," F reminds him, her warnings receiving looks of concern from those nearby. F's eyes lower to the burnt wound and she pulls out a vial of medicine given by Sinta. She carefully applies the glowing substance before bandaging the wound, telling him, "the people of this world, its warriors, and you will survive. I trust many are now free and crippling the industry of their oppressors. I can sense the enemy's morale is falling while your warrior's spirit remains strong even after such a terrible battle. I believe all this, for this world's sake and all who live in it. Will you?"
Atawa looked out to his warrior brethren and sisters, their faces tired and distant, for even after a hundred battles war never ceases to crack even the strongest spirits. Yet in each and every one of their eyes still glowed that fire, the will to stand up for your livelihood and the future of your family. If they stop here, then they'll meet the same fate as others before them. Atawa grips his rifle and stands up with F, both watch as dozens around do the same.
"For my people, of course," Atawa nods before turning to his warriors, "You heard her, send back the wounded and I want my fastest runners on a supply run, now!"
F gives the faintest of smiles, watching as the wounded vanish into the bush and into the city to safety. 'All this pain over earth and metal,' F contemplates, 'we should've seen this before it worsened…we should've seen that the Republic will fall.' A shot is fired in the distance, followed by sporadic fire from their lines. 'That's not the main attack. They're still being rallied, it's now or never,' she tells herself before sprinting out to the field.
"What are you going to do?" Atawa asks.
"Negotiate," F responds, reaching in view of the enemy's centerline before leaping on top of a boulder.
When the last of the sparks and munitions burst from the once terrifying beast, the battlefield's silence falters when Commander Frost raises his rifle in the air. His armor scuffed from narrowly dodging the collision, the only lucky one as opposed to those inside and around the tank.
He cries out, "you're gonna stand for this brutality?! Are you all not a part of the strongest private army of the core worlds?!"
"This proud army could save its reputation by honorably surrendering, here and now!" F says, catching the attention of hundreds of combatants. "Don't mercenaries know when a venture is no longer profitable?! Following these clones will only lead to further death!"
F doesn't flinch when Frost takes a shot at her and deflects it.
Frost furiously steps forward, "You think these men fear death?! What makes you think one Jedi will change their mind?"
"To plead that there's a second chance."
"Plead?" Frost chuckles, "you all should be pleading for our mercy."
"This land, this world will fight back with terrible ferocity," F warns, "If you don't take my offer, then there's nothing I can do to stop what happens next…" She turns to Frost, stretches out her hand, and softly speaks, "My old lieutenant, surely you can still see reason, even after what the Empire did to you and your brothers."
Frost stares dead in her eyes and mutters in cold hatred, "don't waste your breath, Jedi. Unless you surrender all the riches within the Ragoonian city then these mercs will fight to their last breath. You're appealing to the wrong people, F. Why don't you do what you do best and abandon your soldiers as you did with us?"
F, dishearteningly, lowers her hand watching as many combatants begin pointing their rifles at her. F looks at the purge troopers in front of them, each a face she once knew. F shuts her eyes unto a green glowing butterfly lands on her shoulder, the winds suddenly grow stronger as if by some invisible force.
"Very well," she says, "but you won't be taking another step."
"Kill her," Frost orders, a string of bolts whiz out as F leaps above, vanishing into the treeline.
As the signal is given to charge, hundreds stomp their way to victory, the increasingly strong winds suddenly turn silent. This causes a moment of pause for Frost, then a stormtrooper with binoculars runs up to him.
"Sir, we're detecting multiple signals closing in," he warns.
"So the enemy is charging?"
"I don't think so, sir. Many are ahead of us but also on our flanks and even behind us!"
"Give me that!" Frost swipes the binoculars out of his hands and scans their surroundings. At first, he sees no heat signatures but the moment a familiar howling is heard he understands why.
"Sir, that howling…" a trooper alerts.
Frost drops his blaster, knowing his electro-staff will attack faster. "That's impossible…she couldn't have…" he mutters. Hundreds of mercs around him show little concern for the howling, even when it grows from one to a dozen until eventually over a hundred howls could be heard. Frost dashes past me and scans at their other companies along their lines. He sees their signatures until they're seemingly dragged and pulled away by their legs.
Across their lines, more soldiers saw creatures spring out of the bushes beside and maul anyone unfortunate within their sights. Frost turns to his men to bark an order until a pack of Malia reveals themselves and begins attacking his company of soldiers. Dozens scatter and Frost is attacked by a large Malia hound, saved only by his impenetrable armor. He bashes the hound away with his staff before a new kind of roar is heard before him.
Emerging out of the bushes were two standing Urku beasts, their massive jaws smeared with fresh blood. Landing between the hulking animals was F, staring down Frost, his conviction tested. Frost raises his staff and presses a button on his gauntlet before running away, but before F could give chase, several stormtroopers surround and fire at F. Their efforts were but a mere distraction as the Uruk's tough fur skin endured the blasters as they protected F, their large claws slashing their armor like it was paper.
F sighs, and pats one of the Uruk who was licking a burnt wound, "thank you, my friend. Let's rally Atawa's warriors and end this as quickly as possible."
As F follows the Urku into the chaotic battlefield, it's not long until they run into Malia fending off some mercenaries. F takes the lead and hurls many rocks at once at the enemy group, incapacitating them. She stops and sees some of the Malia pack licking wounds before whimpering over two of their dead. F sensed these creatures' feelings, a feeling of mourning yet acceptance of these losses. Instinctively, they felt as if they don't protect their territory now, it'll mean the loss of extinction of their kind.
F watched as they dashed off, to fight so their pack members' deaths aren't for nothing. F follows their examples, hardening her will to fight for both Ragoon VI and the Jedi.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Old senses have long been nonexistent, vanished in exchange for new feelings, one beyond sight or touch or sound. For a few brief moments he felt connected with something larger, he can't tell if it was the gods, faceless energy, or both. One thing is for sure, the first thing he 'saw' after floating in cosmic energy were two vague figures he grew up worshiping.
"-nta!"
The familiar slowly returns, and the faceless duo fades away as the voice grows louder.
"Sin-!"
He recognizes that voice, a voice that had confidence in him, that annoyed him, that promised to him. He fills the pullback to his world and pushes forward with all his spirit.
"Sinta!"
He coughs, sitting up as his vision returns. He's first blinded by the sun until his mind registers that they're outside rather than inside that dreadful prison. He gasps in shock to see he's surrounded by dozens of his people with great relief spread across their faces. He turns to his right and for the first time in what feels like forever, he faces his father, mother, and sister. The panic and grief in their eyes upon finding him near death turns to joyous rapture.
"Sinta!" the three cheer, hugging him and never wanting to let go again. Sinta is still in shock, staring at his headstrong father crying tears for the first time, his kind-hearted mother showering him with love, and his sister looking down at him with pride. He's taken out of his shock when they ask how he got here.
He replies with a small smile, "a Jedi."
The three widen their eyes in surprise and confusion before an explosion erupts in the distance. They gaze up as the colossal factory is slowly crippled from the inside by their people. This land has finally returned to its first people.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Fighting was fierce and scattered across the wide woodlands. The mercenaries were disorganized, every man fighting to save their skin. The rearmed Ragoonians however, alongside Malias and Oruk's, fight together with fierce valiance. F sprints through the midst of the battle, disarming any combatant she runs into with her blade or with the Force. Any mercenary that hasn't tried running away surrendered to the Ragoonians. With Malia and Uruk's aid, it will only be a matter of time before this terrible battle ends.
However, F knew of one party that will not surrender, who will stop at nothing until she was dead. F's eyes widened in sensing this presence up ahead, leaping up and hopping from tree to tree until they were in her sight. Leaping down to a group of stormtroopers, she uses the Force to unleash a strong force wave upon landing that flings them against trees and rock. Reinforcements quickly move in to surround her, she deflects back dozens of shots when the stormtroopers are attacked from above by Ragoonian snipers.
F swiftly takes care of the rest and gives a quick thankful wave to the Ragoonians. "Five squads down," F gasps, her breaths heavy from the fighting, "but where are the-?"
A ear-piercing growl alerts F, it was a cry of pain. She readies her blade and follows the sound to its source, coming to a scene of three Purge troopers surrounded by dead Malia, Uruk, and Ragoonians. The brute bashes the skull of an attacking Uruk with his electro-hammer, another trooper electrocutes a wounded malia with his batons, and the last defeats a Ragoonian warrior with his staff.
It was too late for the two creatures, but before the warrior could be slain F shouted out, "Get away from him!"
All three turn to their gaze and enter their battle stances. F glances at the wounded warrior, telling him to run thus leaving the three adversaries to her. F steadies her breath, bringing calm to her heart and clearing her mind of doubt.
"You won't do it, Jedi. You don't have the guts," one of them pesters.
F gives a small nod, "Yeah, I don't…but it's something that must be done. To stop you from hurting civilians, Jedi…but most importantly, yourselves."
In a flash, F blocks two of their sudden attacks and dodges the brute's slash. Her heels flowed in this dance of death as she fought off the three troopers. Her blade was so fast one could see its glowing trail, deflecting and poking at the trooper's armor. In the midst of the fierce duel, F looks inside herself, noticing her swift kick away against a trooper with her skilled acrobatics, her connection with the force to push the brute away, and her swordsmanship to cut the electro-staff.
When she deflects his attacks, F internalizes this change. She remembers her first encounter with these clones, she was terrified and unbalanced. Seeing the face of her old comrades twisted into something unrecognizable, facing such hatred, it nearly led to her demise. However, this battle, this moment was different. Seeing what her men were now capable of and that something akin to an everlasting nightmare exists in the crevices of their minds, forcing them to do this. F knows what such a nightmare is like, and now more than ever is certain of what she must do. She will not let fear or this darkness clouds her, she will not falter when so much more needs to be done in the galaxy, she will end her men's nightmare…however way she can.
With a swift slash, F's lightsaber cuts the purge trooper in half. She parries blows from the baton trooper, quickly finding an opening before disarming and piercing his neck. Her gaze turns to the hammer swung down to her, but with a force-enhanced slash, she cuts the massive weapon in two before cutting off the brute's left leg. Pointing her blade at his neck, F tears off his helmet to see its private doss.
"Doss," she sighs with a quiver, "please stand down."
"N-no…" he grunts, grabbing his head until a blaster bolt strikes him in the neck.
F blinks in shock before sensing who it was. She turns to Frost who tosses his blaster away and utters, "Failure…"
"Frost," F exhales, lowering her head in disappointment.
"Traitor," Frost huffs, pulling out not his staff but a lightsaber. F stares at the weapon as he ignites its purple blade, "this lightsaber came from a Jedi hiding off the moon of Ktil, a Jedi knight to be exact. One of my easier kills."
F knows he's trying to throw her off, suppressing her anger as asks, "how could you boast it like it's some trophy, Frost? Did the sith even influence you, or have you become mad?!"
Something in Frost snaps at her words and F senses it, raising her blade as he shouts, "Madness?! Look around you!" A loud crackle is heard as her saber clashes with his, bright flashes of light with each blow she blocks from his fierce attacks. She takes note of his stance, his attack style, and focus before locking blades once more. He spats at her with a voice filled with ferocity, "this fighting is the true madness! We were bred to end the fight, to end war itself, and bring order! Even if it meant the end of the Jedi, but because of roach-rats like you, we still shed blood!"
F's resolve doesn't falter at his words, she digs her heels in the dirt while resisting his strength, and refutes."You're wrong!" she says, "We both wanted the same thing, but were used by the sith to bring upon something far worse! A fascist war machine whose thirst for death will never be quenched!" His enhanced strength was formidable but her ally, the Force, was a far greater power. She pushes back and goes on the offensive, his blade unable to keep up until F was cutting at his weak points, "the empire's order is a lie, its peace is a lie and its promises are a lie!" She parries the weapon out of his hands as Frost collapses, groaning from the burn marks on his arms and knees. "And you wave an elegant weapon like a child's toy," F sighs, out of breath but victorious.
F for a moment contemplates her giving Frost a swift death, but she also knows he's in no state to fight. It'd go against her training and code to strike down an unarmed foe.
'Why show a Jedi killer such mercy? Did he show it to that Jedi knight?!'
F felt this temptation, this was the first time since the Temple she faced an agent of the empire so proud of the Jedi blood in his hands. She's already slain several purge troopers, what's one more?
"You expect to convince clones like this?" Frost says, breaking her out of her thoughts before continuing, "I sacrificed everything for the republic, everything! Not for credits or for glory, it went beyond the call of duty, it was what I was born to do! I don't care if it wasn't my own, better than to live without any purpose at all." His words remind F of what she saw in the clones when the war began: a familiar search for identity.
"I'm ready to die for that purpose, but the same can't be said about you, right?" Frost questions. "You fight for nothing, not really, you fight for ghosts and rubble. What does that make you then, F?"
'What I really fight for…' F ponders. She denies his claims, is fighting for the memory of the Jedi, not a noble pursuit? Her master's very last promise alone has kept her going…but what was beyond that? Is one promise enough? Perhaps her path to redemption for her failure, from straying from the path, is also enough purpose. However, what waits for her beyond that as well? Will she become worthy of carrying the Jedi's legacy? What will she do with her power?
She didn't know, not yet, that is a lesson she's still a long way from learning and it pains her. However, she won't let this pain sway her resolve from this moment, for being one with the Force means focusing on what she can do in these crucial moments. She answers, "Whatever it makes me, it's better than letting others choose for you."
Smoke grenades are thrown at her feet, she steps back and forces pushes the thick cloud to see the other two stormtroopers quickly carrying their commander away. F looks down to see he took the lightsaber as well. "Retreat! Fall back!" a clone's order echoes. F sense them disappear in the distance, but so long as they believe in the Empire they'll return for her soon enough.
For now, an exhausted F falls onto the dirt as silence takes over the forest. The bodies of Ragoonians, clones, mercenaries, Malia, and Uruk are scattered between the trees, shrubs, and rocks. A cold air of death that still makes her shudder in fright. A young Malia, limping with its wounded leg, approaches F and licks a wound on her shoulder. "I'll live," she tells him, using the last of the medicine on her to tend to Malia's wound.
Atawa and a dozen of his men appear from the bush, finding F. "Jedi, you're safe! The last mercenary company surrendered but we can't find these Imperial troops. Should we pursue?"
"No…it's over, there's no need for further spilled blood," F whispers, petting the healed Malia.
"How does she-?"
A Ragoonian scout approaches, out of breath but excited. "Sir, we have reports from the enemy colony! They've completely overrun it and the Presidente is ready to speak terms!"
"We won…" Atawa mutters, almost not believing it until his warriors chant.
"We won!"
Uproar grows, their victory cries echoing through the forest grounds. Atawa smiles at F and proclaims to his warriors, "first this valley, then all of Ragoon!"
As the people of the valley chant and sing of victory, F waves goodbye to the Malia, watching as it disappears into the forest with the Uruk and its pack. Her tired hands gripping her lightsaber while whispering, "even if it's only this region, even if this is just the beginning, the simple joy a little peace brings is worth it." She looks out to the distance and nods, "good work, Sinta."
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
A quiet fills the air of the misty valley as its people and creatures mourn those they lost that day. Two hundred and thirty-seven warriors and freed prisoners gave their lives so that their families and children will never know of such violence or be in chains. For three days this mourning lasts for that is how long it took to mummify, pray and bury the dead who will gloriously join their gods and become the stars in the night sky.
Ships are loaded with mercenary and police POWs, their weapons now to be used by the Ragoonians to help fight off oppressors elsewhere in their world. Their ships will take off to the core worlds, to warn others what fate will befall them if they dare come to harm this world. Of the colonial civilians, some went with the POWs but most humbly requested to start a life with the Ragoonians. Upon seeing their scars, the Ragoonians welcome the civilians and teach them their way of life.
The last shred of blood will be the Presidente and his associates, an act of swift justice that no one opposed.
At long last, the families and neighboring tribes reunite in a massive night festivity that lasts till morning. Atawa shows Sinta's family their new home in the massive city while discussing plans of healing the land and converting the colony into a new and improved city. The joy spread across Sinta's face as he told his tale to kids his age, of meeting a young woman with a glowing sword and her mystical feats. His Sister, rewarded with the position of the chief warrior, looks on with pride before approaching F.
F has observed all this in the distance, focusing on her repairing her ship and burying the dead. She was never one for massive festivities. She loads up her cannons and activates the ship engines when Paria asks, "leaving without so much as a goodbye?"
F sighs, "I fulfilled my vow. Now other important matters require me elsewhere."
Paria squints before asking, "you're not great with goodbyes, are you?"
F stops and answers, "No…it's always hard."
Paria nods, and offers her hand, "well, will a simple handshake do?"
F looks down and takes her hand, "he'll grow up strong, like you."
Paria smiles, "I know. Course, you could tell him yourself."
F blinks in confusion until Sinta appears from the stone staircases before them. She glares at Paria for distracting her before Sinta walks up to her, judging by his nervousness it seems he's not swell as saying goodbye as well. F kneels to his eye level and hands him the notebook containing all their drawings while carefully taking one out. It's one containing F without her mask, smiling at Sinta's family and people celebrating a rapturous victory.
"The gods will smile upon you for decades to come for your bravery against adversity, Sinta," F tells him, handing him the drawing. Sinta nods, holding back tears, before handing F a drawing. It depicts the moment F vowed to reunite Sinta with his family. F smiles beneath her mask, and whispers to him, "Thank you, friend."
She boards her ship, looking at the siblings and the lights of their city before shooting off to space like a comet. By her side, the precious drawing she'll carry for the rest of her days.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Sinta, now older and wiser, enters an ancient chamber. On the walls were drawings centuries-old, depicting their people's oldest friends. He smiles with pride upon reaching the last mural, one he made himself. He gazes up at the massive piece, he fondly reminiscences the mural depicting a young but brave Jedi with a golden blade and fierce masking hiding a great kindness beneath.
Her tale is forever etched in this hall of legends to be told for years to come.
A/N: Pheww! Thus the end of the Ragoon Arc! I'll correct any mistakes soon just wanted to share this since I'm a few days late (sorry about that!). Hope you all enjoyed it, it's my first time writing a massive battle, so please share what you thought about it. As for how far into the future the epilogue is, well that's up to you all. It could be months or decades, whichever sounds better to you.
Also, I'm super hoping the S2 of Visions is true and that we get to see some stories continue. I personally hope that F and Valco are a part of these returning characters and become canon. I'm also excited at seeing some shorts be adapted to Manga, though I hope they do all of them than just four.