Part 42
Prelude to Madness
By BobCat
Disclaimer: If I had a nickel for every copyright I've broken, I'd have an awfully large number of nickels. I just hope that those who monitor such things give me the nickel and then ignore me.
Rei Connery was not a happy girl.
The first problem was that her grandfather had been replaced by Sean Connery. For another, she had been stuck Dagobah, a planet that made the dankest southern bayou look absolutely cheerful. Six weeks in such an environment would make anyone cranky. The stressful training that Yoda- Sensei had put them through over those six months made the situation worse.
Then, to find out that her off and on boyfriend, Ralph, had apparently forgotten to pick her up two weeks ago... well, it took all of her Force breathing exercises to control the urge to beat him over the head with the nearest handy blunt object.
Ralph was currently mentally kicking himself. The other Senshi weren't pleased about being forgotten, but he didn't care about their opinions very much. Now, he was attempting to ignore the quintet of angry glares he was receiving as he talked to Yoda.
"So, uh, Master Yoda, how well did it go? Their Jedi training, that is."
Yoda was currently hobbling along, using his cane for support. Ralph was always amazed how well Yoda could move around, considering his size and age. The green alien looked up at Ralph. "Mmmm. Much progress did I make with all of them. Stronger and more disciplined they all are. Not all Jedi will be, but impressive. Too old for the training I thought they were."
"So, who passed?"
Yoda considered. "Ralph, not so simple is it. When is one a full Jedi and when is one not? Difficult question, this is. But, Rei and Ami the most progress have made. Surprising it is, considering how much trouble Ami had to start. But, full Padawans are they both. Their training must you continue." Suddenly, the ancient Jedi Master halted and sat down on a log for support.
Ralph grew concerned as he saw the look of pain upon Master Yoda's face. "Master? What is wrong?" Ralph was worried; had training the Senshi accelerated the exhaustion that had killed Yoda after he was done with Luke?
Yoda grimaced. "A great disturbance in the Force do I feel. Thousands of voices are crying out in pain, and are being silenced. A great evil do I sense. Be wary, Ralph."
Ralph, attempting to undo the sense of fear that he was picking up from the Senshi, said, "I'm not afraid Master."
Yoda's voice took a very dark turn. "You will be. You WILL be."
* * *
In a remote corner of the Galactic Empire, there is a world known as Mon Tessa. The planet's inhabitants, a quiet and unassuming race known as the Klintir, bore a passing resemblance to the widespread species Homo Sapiens. They had the nearly universal pattern of a bipedal legs, arms situated on shoulders placed near the neck, upon which rested a head that contained a majority of their sensory organs.
They departed from the humans in that they were of saurian decent. Their faces possessed an elongated snout filled with small, sharp teeth. The ends of each of their four fingers ended in an inch-long claw, with a similar arrangement on their feet. A small stub of a tail jutted from the hindquarters of each Klintir, a throwback to their roots as pack hunters that relied upon speed and feral strength to bring down prey. The tails weren't a hindrance, so natural selection had seen little need to remove them, although the average length of the appendage less than a meter, making up less than a third of the total length of each Klintir. The males tended to be larger than the females, although the difference in size was almost negligible.
Despite their predatory past, the Klintir were a peaceful race, at least when dealing with other sentient species. Anthropologists had noted that several of their rituals, particularly their L'rnn-Jhuuk (right of passage), were very gruesome and seemed designed to eliminate the weak from the gene pool. Many didn't survive, but those that did were immediately deemed strong enough to be allowed to breed.
Each member of the species had a minor connection with the Force, insufficient to make them candidates for Jedi knighthood, but enough so that they were empathetic. Except for a few sadistic Klintir, few ever opted to raise their fist in anger towards another of their kind because of this empathy. Feeling the death of a creature that they deem to have a soul is an unpleasant experience for them; however, a small percentage of the population enjoyed the sensation, resulting in the occasional murder spree.
Before the coming of the Empire, the Klintir had been on the verge of an industrial revolution. When an Imperial Star Destroyer had exited hyperspace directly above Mon Tessa, many had said that the end of the world was upon them, pointing to ancient prophecies, that stated that the world would end as a great flying ship dispatched metal giants.
They were right, in a sense. The Empire had easily overpowered their greatest hunters with their superior technology. In one instance, four AT- ATs had mowed down three hundred Klintir hunters in seconds. Surrender had been quick and unconditional.
Now, the world was merely a shadow of its former self. Their great forests had been relentlessly logged because the Sector Moff had discovered a market for the native Krun wood, which made excellent tables and chairs. After the price of Krun had plummeted to almost nothing due to an overabundance, Moff Equiano had ordered every last tree on the planet, Krun or otherwise, to be destroyed. It had done little for the Krun furniture market, and at the moment the Moff was at a loss about what to do about his massive stockpiles of Krun wood. It didn't help the Klintir, however; their planet had been robbed of almost all of its natural beauty.
The Klintir as a whole had been enslaved, forced to mine their planet's large reserves of iron ore. Some Klintir advocated a rebellion, although the overwhelmingly pacifistic saurians were reluctant to take any such action. After more than a generation of slave labor and use as gladiatorial fighters, there was a general air of hopelessness on Mon Tessa.
Which is why Schlager had targeted the planet. After all, after his forces had destroyed the Imperial garrison, the Klintir would experience their first inklings of hope in nearly thirty years. And then the slaughter would begin. After all, he lacked the resources to remove an entire planet's population, and leaving any of the species alive would eventually bring some young male seeking vengeance to his doorstep.
Aboard the Inquisitor, Schlager was currently sitting in a large padded seat. It had been modified to support his significant bulk and not quite human proportions. His mechanical eye whirring as it continually focused and refocused, he began barking commands. "Mr. Sulu. Status report."
The Asian man took a few moments to study his scanners, then replied, "Lord Schlager, I see two craft in orbit above the planet. One appears to be a Carrack class light cruiser, while the other is a Strike Cruiser. Sir, neither craft can even begin to match the Inquisitor's power; even combined, they lack the ability to get through our energy shields. Also, both lack the fighter capacity to match one tenth of our numbers, and all will likely be TIE fighters, which any one of our Fury Class aerospace fighters could engage at six to one odds with little trouble. There will likely be more fighter support from the planet, but there will be a sizeable delay between the start of any battle and the time it will take their fighters to arrive."
A communications officer, seated in one of the deep trenches on either side of Schlager's seat, interrupted. "Excuse me, Lord Schlager, but the Strike Cruiser, the Invincible, is hailing us. Our response?"
Schlager grinned maliciously. Now it was time for the fun to begin. "Put them on." One of the screens set into the wall of the bridge came to life, revealing an image of a slovenly middle-aged man in the green uniform of an Imperial Fleet Officer.
The man was as arrogant an officer as had ever left the Imperial Academy on Carida. Upon seeing that Schlager was a non-human, his features revealed only contempt for the pirate. "I am Commodore Grakel of the Imperial Navy! You have violated Imperial air space! Identify yourself, or be destroyed!"
Schlager rose to his full height. "I am Schlager. This planet is now mine, as is the space around it. Unless you enjoy explosive decompression or being vaporized by laser fire, I would suggest that you leave. Immediately." Schlager made the universal "kill" sign. The officer who had informed him of the transmission relayed the order to his subordinate.
Grakel's face turned red. "Why you alien son of a..." The communications technician cut off the feed.
Schlager sat back down. He was angry. He may have been a regular practitioner of genocide, but he hated racism. At least, when it was directed at him. "Let's give these Imperial bastards a surprise. Fire the Naval Gauss Rifle."
A gunnery officer began pressing buttons on his computer consol. "Lord Schlager, the magnetic capacitors will take at least thirty seconds to charge."
Schlagger glared daggers at the man. "Entering a combat zone with our main gun unready? Your incompetence will not go unpunished." Schlager gestured to one of the Battle Armor marines on either side of him. "Take him away. I want him to learn a new meaning of the word pain before he dies." As the gunnery officer was dragged away screaming for mercy, he pointed to the man's subordinate. "You are in command now. Charge the Naval Gauss Rifle. Now. Soften up the Carrack with our turbo-lasers. But don't target the Invincible. I want to take that bastard down with one shot."
The newly promoted man pressed a few buttons on his display. "Lord Schlager, barrage is beginning... now." With that, bursts of green energy began to fly from the spheroid craft, smashing against the forward shielding of the light cruiser. For a few seconds, the protective umbrella of energy held under the barrage. However, it swiftly began to shrink as the combined barrage of fifty turbolaser batteries hammered it. Eventually, the cruiser's strained shield generators could take no more, and green beams of concentrated light began to melt away tens of tons of durasteel armor plating. As the front end of the craft melted away, the Imperial's first barrage of counter fire began. Between the two craft, thirty ion cannons and an equal number of turbolasers responded to the Inquisitor's attack.
The spherical capital ship almost seemed to absorb the barrage casually. And, as suddenly as the Inquisitor's assault had begun, it stopped.
However, that was little comfort to the Carrack cruiser. The entire front half of the ship had been vaporized, leaving only the engines and rear quarters. Due to the Carrack's special design, most of the crew in that portion of the ship would survive, as the ship was divided into compartments designed to combat the hard vacuum of space.
Schlager noted that the Invincible was beginning to launch TIE fighters as the capital ship began to retreat. It was currently turning about, ready to make a run for a safe hyperspace jump point. Obviously, Commodore Grakel had no qualms about sacrificing two squadrons of TIE fighters and their pilots to ensure his own survival. The horned man queried, "How long until the Naval Gauss is ready?"
The gunner responded, "My Lord, we are ready to fire at your command."
With a predatory grin, Schlager stated almost nonchalantly, "You may fire at will."
"Aye, My Lord."
As the gunner's words left his lips, massive machinery loaded a gigantic slug tons into an even more massive cannon. Once the gigantic bullet had been loaded into the Naval Gauss Rifle's breech, the huge magnets that ran along the weapon's barrel flared to life.
The Gauss Rifle, also known as a rail gun, didn't use an explosion to propel the bullet. Instead, oppositely charged magnets within the barrel of the gun shot the metal slug at several times the speed of sound. The gigantic naval version of the standard weapon disgorged a slug roughly the size of an SUV. Once the massive bullet found its target, only the strongest energy shields or the thickest armor plating could stop it.
The Strike Cruiser had been designed to be mass produced, and due to cheap construction, lacked either. Thus, the gauss slug slammed into one end of the craft, entering through the bridge, smashed through several levels of decks, and then punched out through the back of the capital ship. A fiery explosion gutted the craft, consuming all flammable objects, including the crew, in under a second. Then, the flames stopped as they ran out of oxygen to consume. The shattered remains of the craft were pulled towards the planet by gravity, and they would make a metallic belt around the planet that would stay in place for years to come.
The TIE pilots' response was mixed. Some continued to fly straight towards the Inquisitor, either heedless of their fate or too frightened to think of anything else. Others did an abrupt U-turn, fleeing back to Mon Tessa, as if they were safe from the massive power of the spherical craft once they were on soil once again. One brave or stupid soul flew away from both, obviously hoping that his short-range fighter would carry him to safety before it ran out of fuel or oxygen.
In all, roughly a squadron of TIE fighters now streaked towards the Inquisitor.
Mr. Sulu queried his commander. "My Lord, should I launch the Furies?"
Schlager almost said yes. Then, he remembered an untested branch of his forces. He had acquired them nearly a year before, but hadn't had a good opportunity to use them as of yet. "Negative. Launch the Taurus Mobile Dolls." He considered his order. "Only launch four. Otherwise, those TIE fighters won't stand a chance, and that would be terribly dull."
Schlager felt an slight rumble pass through his ship, and then four points of light exited from one of the Inquisitor's many docking bays. From his lofty position, Schlager could only make out four tiny points of light. However, closer inspection would reveal something unheard of in Star Wars: Mobile Suits.
Each weighed in at approximately twenty five metric tons. They were humanoid in construction, with fully articulated hands. These hands clutched a massive laser. What would be the Taurus' head was surrounded by two massive extensions of the shoulders, giving the impression of horns. The four machines were completely computer automated, which allowed them to maneuver with speed that few unaugmented humans could match. Each was painted a blood red with black highlights. Although they lacked the heavy armor plating of the Gundams they shared their home universe with, their speed and significant firepower gave them the ability to slowly chip away at the heavier Suit's armor while the Gundam vainly returned fire. That tactic didn't always work, but it was usually effective against slow or weakly armored targets. The TIE fighter, much like the Strike Cruiser that had just met its maker, was designed to be mass produced, relying upon numbers instead of armor and firepower. Although reasonably fast, they couldn't match the Mobile Dolls for sheer maneuverability.
One of the fighters noticed the incoming threat. The Dolls noted the flurry of radio signals being exchanged by the fighters. Although they lacked the ability to comprehend the signals, they quickly noticed that the fighters were forming up into two lines, with six fighters in each. They flew roughly a kilometer from each other, the rear line hoping to deal with any threats that made it through the first.
It was a sound strategy, and had Schlager launched X-Wings, it would have worked. However, the Mobile Dolls began to trigger their laser cannons at a range that the fighters couldn't match. Their high rate of fire allowed them to mow down the entire front line of ships with their first barrage. Then, as they came into the remaining TIE fighters' range, they began a series of maneuvers that allowed them to flank the incoming TIE fighters. Before the startled Imperials could respond, the Mobile Dolls were firing upon them from two sides. Only one pilot survived, and that was due to the Immelman maneuver he pulled. Swinging around, he managed to get one of the Mobile Suits under his guns. He pulled both of his triggers, sending a pair of laser beams into the side of the Taurus.
One laser bolt missed, impotently sending a beam of light into the endless depths of space. The second burned into the Taurus' right arm, severing the limb at the elbow. The blast of concentrated light continued onward and gouged a hole in the Doll's torso. The Mobile Doll quickly turned about and retreated back to the Inquisitor. Unlike the versions favored in the Gundam universe, (universe GM-WG8-8957-PP) they possessed a self preservation program. After all, Schlager only had a limited supply of the Mobile Dolls, and as the Taurus' only weapon was disabled, there was little it could do.
Not that its presence was missed, as its three fellows turned their lasers upon the hapless TIE fighter. The starship was vaporized as three golden beams of concentrated light burned through its thin hull.
Schlager grinned. He looked at one of the Battle Armor troops. "Dispatch some shuttles to salvage what remains of the fighters and the capital ships. Send a few squads of marines with them. Check out the Carrack first, since it is the least damaged."
Despite its bulky, insectoid appearance, the trooper within the armor managed to salute smartly. "My Lord, what of any survivors?"
Schlager considered it for a second. "Take them alive if it's convenient. I like the irony of the slaveholders become slaves themselves." As the trooper left to carry out his orders, Schlager addressed Sulu. "Bring us into a geosynchronous orbit above their garrison headquarters. And inform my troops to ready themselves. I want to begin the invasion as soon as possible."
The man nodded. "As you wish, my Lord."
* * *
The attack had come without warning.
Well, that isn't entirely accurate. The Inquisitor had been in system for nearly six hours, and had acquired an orbit nearly three hours previously. Governor Yadat had repeatedly attempted to contact the strange invaders to determine their intentions, but his attempts had proven futile.
When a practical blizzard of shuttlecraft, fighters and the odd walker-like space ships had appeared on the sensor boards, the Governor of Mon Tessa had ordered the fighter wing launched. The seventy two TIE fighters had outnumbered the angular fighters that had maneuvered to intercept nearly four to one. They had been cut down in less than two minutes, and the sensor operator reported that only one enemy fighter had been disabled. Not even destroyed; a lucky TIE pilot had gotten off a shot into his enemy's rear quarter and taken out one of his engines.
The twenty AT-AT and AT-ST walkers and the hundreds of Stormtroopers that had made up Mon Tessa's garrison had lasted slightly longer than the fighters. The lightly armored AT-STs had been the first to fall to the attacking Leo mobile Suits. The thickly armored AT-ATs had proven more effective than their two legged counterparts, but in the end, they had been overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of enemy Mobile Suits. The Stormtroopers, the elite of the Imperial infantry, had been crushed under the feet of the Leos or vaporized by a Battle Armor suit's laser. In under half an hour, the remaining Imperials had either been slain or taken prisoner.
Two Klintir were talking. One appeared to be about six in human terms, while the other was stooped and got about with the aid of a cane. The younger one, his reptilian eyes were bright and filled with hope, while the older Klintir had a hollow, defeated look in his eyes. Yet, their apparent rescue at the hands of Schlager had allowed a slight gleam to come to the old man's eye.
The younger Klintir was prancing about, bursting with the endless energy of the very young. His Basic was accented by a reptilian hiss. "Sssee, Grandssssire? Sssee? I told you that the Rebellion would sssave us! You said I wasss wrong, but I wass right!"
The elder saurian nodded. "I sssuppose you were right, Nat."
The young boy suddenly stopped. "Grandsssire? Where are you going?"
"Well, Nat, we mussst thank our sssaviors. It would be dishonorable not to."
The two made their way, one bouncing, the other hobbling, to a pair of infantry grunts. The elder man spoke. "Sssirsss, I would like to thank you for ressscuing us. The Rebel Allianssse hasss brought the first hope that our people have felt in far too long."
The shorter man, an ugly brute with a sloping forehead and a smile missing several teeth, chuckled. "No, they haven't." Then both Klintir died as a burst of laser fire sliced through their heads. The scene was repeated across the planet, putting massive ripples through the Force.
* * *
Phil shuddered involuntarily. He glanced for a few moments, looking for the source of his discomfort. "What the... there's that sensation of a thousand voices crying out and being silenced again." It was similar to what he had felt during the time before the battle with Cell, but to a lesser degree. Seeing nothing, he went back to his training regimen. In seconds, he was blurring about the Masaki's back yard. When he was visible, he was launching a complicated series of kicks and punches.
Phil halted as he felt a shiver run down his spine. He felt strange. Not the discomfort from a moment ago. This wasn't the sensation of a thousand voices crying out at once. He felt like he was being watched. He dropped into a crouching position, powered up and began scanning the area for any threat.
That was when a green-haired blur passed over his head, missing by inches. Unfortunately for her, her line of flight was intercepted by a sticker bush.
Phil blinked. "Lotion? What the hell are YOU doing here? I thought that I'd gotten rid of you."
Indeed, it was the young Chinese Amazon. Normally, she possessed a grace and beauty that was the envy of women and left a distinct impression on men. At the moment, cut and bleeding from dozens of tiny cuts and thrashing around in an unkempt bush, she lost a bit of her mystique.
She cried out, "Less talk, more help!"
Arthur seized control of their mouth. "Do not worry, fair maiden. I shall assist thee!"
This assistance wasn't as easily given as it was promised. Neither Phil nor Arthur knew what kind of plant it was, but natural selection had evidently decided to give it a series of thorns and prickles that would have made a porcupine jealous. After circling the struggling Amazon and the plant a few times, Phil found the easiest way of extracting her from her leafy prison. "Don't move." Phil summoned a very low powered Chi bolt, and slowly burned his way through the shrubbery. There was a yelp of pain as Lotion developed a second degree burn on her right leg. "Stop squirming already, or else you can get out on your own."
There was a stream of curses as the young Amazon extricated herself from the sticker bush. She was bleeding freely from several spots, and there were small burns across her limbs. Phil sighed as he pulled a senzu bean from one of the symbiote's pockets. "Here, eat this before you get an infection." He tossed her the magic legume, and folded his arms across his chest. "Now, what are you doing here?"
Lotion grimaced as the magic of the bean rebuilt destroyed skin cells and replaced lost blood. It wasn't painful, so much as unpleasant. Lotion's discomfort came more from the Senzu bean's bitter taste. "Naughty husband! Leaving wife behind to find you! Lo Shun here take you to tribe."
Phil balled his hands into fists. "Look, for the last time, we aren't married!"
Arthur took a stern tone in the back of Phil's mind. "What? Thou hast taken a wife and left her behind? Such unchivalrous behavior, Squire!"
"Look, Arthur, it wasn't a Christian marriage or anything that you would acknowledge. It's an obscure law of their tribe; you beat a member of their tribe, and they either have to kill you or marry you. She attacked me, I beat her, made it clear that I didn't acknowledge their laws, and left. End of story." Phil glared at Lotion. "Or so I'd thought."
"Who is husband talking to?"
Phil had an idea. "Well, I'm Schizophrenic. Yup, crazy as a loon. You sure don't want me in the tribe. Now go back home!"
"What is loon?"
Phil smacked his face. "Damn cultural barriers. Look, I have voices in my head that aren't my own. I'm too crazy to be an Amazon."
Lotion shook her head. "You is not knowing some Amazons."
Phil cocked an eyebrow. "What happened to your grammar? I mean, you spoke normally before."
"Lo Shun in Japan, so Lo Shun trying Japanese. Is not going good."
Phil groaned. "Look, just speak Mandarin? I can understand it."*
"Oh. OK. Look, you really need to come back with me or else I won't be allowed to return. Or at least, if I do, I'm going to be punished. So please, come back. It won't be so bad." She sidled up next to Phil, pressing herself up against him. "A pretty wife, all the battle you could want and you get to have as many children as you like. You have to perform a few chores, and we don't have much technology, but overall it's a good life. What do you say?"
Arthur heard this, and was intrigued. It sounded much like the life he preferred. "Squire, remind me why thou art reluctant to pursue this marriage?"
Phil, not caring Lotion overheard, said, "Even if this was a marriage recognized by any government anywhere, WHICH IT ISN'T, what she fails to mention is that men are treated as little more than slaves, we would be expected to keep our mouths shut unless a woman spoke directly to us and we can't be the King of England if we're cleaning some hut in rural China."
Arthur considered this. "Thou hast a good point, Squire."
Phil growled. "I'm not going with you, wench! So get out of here! Shoo! Scat!"
Lotion was confused. "But Mr. Masaki said I could use one of his guest rooms."
Phil's eye twitched. "OH HE DID, DID HE?!" A bright yellow aura flared to life around Phil, and he strained to hold back the Super Saiyan transformation. "GO AWAY NOW!"
Lotion complied. Very quickly. "Hmmm. Husband is angry. I'll try again later."
Then Phil saw something. Something terrifying. Something unexpected. Something implausible. Something...
...that won't be revealed until next chapter. SO THERE!
End Part 42
*Phil doesn't speak Chinese. Remember, all of the Physics Police have universal translators in their ears, as well as throat implants so that their speech is modified to match the local language requirements.
Prelude to Madness
By BobCat
Disclaimer: If I had a nickel for every copyright I've broken, I'd have an awfully large number of nickels. I just hope that those who monitor such things give me the nickel and then ignore me.
Rei Connery was not a happy girl.
The first problem was that her grandfather had been replaced by Sean Connery. For another, she had been stuck Dagobah, a planet that made the dankest southern bayou look absolutely cheerful. Six weeks in such an environment would make anyone cranky. The stressful training that Yoda- Sensei had put them through over those six months made the situation worse.
Then, to find out that her off and on boyfriend, Ralph, had apparently forgotten to pick her up two weeks ago... well, it took all of her Force breathing exercises to control the urge to beat him over the head with the nearest handy blunt object.
Ralph was currently mentally kicking himself. The other Senshi weren't pleased about being forgotten, but he didn't care about their opinions very much. Now, he was attempting to ignore the quintet of angry glares he was receiving as he talked to Yoda.
"So, uh, Master Yoda, how well did it go? Their Jedi training, that is."
Yoda was currently hobbling along, using his cane for support. Ralph was always amazed how well Yoda could move around, considering his size and age. The green alien looked up at Ralph. "Mmmm. Much progress did I make with all of them. Stronger and more disciplined they all are. Not all Jedi will be, but impressive. Too old for the training I thought they were."
"So, who passed?"
Yoda considered. "Ralph, not so simple is it. When is one a full Jedi and when is one not? Difficult question, this is. But, Rei and Ami the most progress have made. Surprising it is, considering how much trouble Ami had to start. But, full Padawans are they both. Their training must you continue." Suddenly, the ancient Jedi Master halted and sat down on a log for support.
Ralph grew concerned as he saw the look of pain upon Master Yoda's face. "Master? What is wrong?" Ralph was worried; had training the Senshi accelerated the exhaustion that had killed Yoda after he was done with Luke?
Yoda grimaced. "A great disturbance in the Force do I feel. Thousands of voices are crying out in pain, and are being silenced. A great evil do I sense. Be wary, Ralph."
Ralph, attempting to undo the sense of fear that he was picking up from the Senshi, said, "I'm not afraid Master."
Yoda's voice took a very dark turn. "You will be. You WILL be."
* * *
In a remote corner of the Galactic Empire, there is a world known as Mon Tessa. The planet's inhabitants, a quiet and unassuming race known as the Klintir, bore a passing resemblance to the widespread species Homo Sapiens. They had the nearly universal pattern of a bipedal legs, arms situated on shoulders placed near the neck, upon which rested a head that contained a majority of their sensory organs.
They departed from the humans in that they were of saurian decent. Their faces possessed an elongated snout filled with small, sharp teeth. The ends of each of their four fingers ended in an inch-long claw, with a similar arrangement on their feet. A small stub of a tail jutted from the hindquarters of each Klintir, a throwback to their roots as pack hunters that relied upon speed and feral strength to bring down prey. The tails weren't a hindrance, so natural selection had seen little need to remove them, although the average length of the appendage less than a meter, making up less than a third of the total length of each Klintir. The males tended to be larger than the females, although the difference in size was almost negligible.
Despite their predatory past, the Klintir were a peaceful race, at least when dealing with other sentient species. Anthropologists had noted that several of their rituals, particularly their L'rnn-Jhuuk (right of passage), were very gruesome and seemed designed to eliminate the weak from the gene pool. Many didn't survive, but those that did were immediately deemed strong enough to be allowed to breed.
Each member of the species had a minor connection with the Force, insufficient to make them candidates for Jedi knighthood, but enough so that they were empathetic. Except for a few sadistic Klintir, few ever opted to raise their fist in anger towards another of their kind because of this empathy. Feeling the death of a creature that they deem to have a soul is an unpleasant experience for them; however, a small percentage of the population enjoyed the sensation, resulting in the occasional murder spree.
Before the coming of the Empire, the Klintir had been on the verge of an industrial revolution. When an Imperial Star Destroyer had exited hyperspace directly above Mon Tessa, many had said that the end of the world was upon them, pointing to ancient prophecies, that stated that the world would end as a great flying ship dispatched metal giants.
They were right, in a sense. The Empire had easily overpowered their greatest hunters with their superior technology. In one instance, four AT- ATs had mowed down three hundred Klintir hunters in seconds. Surrender had been quick and unconditional.
Now, the world was merely a shadow of its former self. Their great forests had been relentlessly logged because the Sector Moff had discovered a market for the native Krun wood, which made excellent tables and chairs. After the price of Krun had plummeted to almost nothing due to an overabundance, Moff Equiano had ordered every last tree on the planet, Krun or otherwise, to be destroyed. It had done little for the Krun furniture market, and at the moment the Moff was at a loss about what to do about his massive stockpiles of Krun wood. It didn't help the Klintir, however; their planet had been robbed of almost all of its natural beauty.
The Klintir as a whole had been enslaved, forced to mine their planet's large reserves of iron ore. Some Klintir advocated a rebellion, although the overwhelmingly pacifistic saurians were reluctant to take any such action. After more than a generation of slave labor and use as gladiatorial fighters, there was a general air of hopelessness on Mon Tessa.
Which is why Schlager had targeted the planet. After all, after his forces had destroyed the Imperial garrison, the Klintir would experience their first inklings of hope in nearly thirty years. And then the slaughter would begin. After all, he lacked the resources to remove an entire planet's population, and leaving any of the species alive would eventually bring some young male seeking vengeance to his doorstep.
Aboard the Inquisitor, Schlager was currently sitting in a large padded seat. It had been modified to support his significant bulk and not quite human proportions. His mechanical eye whirring as it continually focused and refocused, he began barking commands. "Mr. Sulu. Status report."
The Asian man took a few moments to study his scanners, then replied, "Lord Schlager, I see two craft in orbit above the planet. One appears to be a Carrack class light cruiser, while the other is a Strike Cruiser. Sir, neither craft can even begin to match the Inquisitor's power; even combined, they lack the ability to get through our energy shields. Also, both lack the fighter capacity to match one tenth of our numbers, and all will likely be TIE fighters, which any one of our Fury Class aerospace fighters could engage at six to one odds with little trouble. There will likely be more fighter support from the planet, but there will be a sizeable delay between the start of any battle and the time it will take their fighters to arrive."
A communications officer, seated in one of the deep trenches on either side of Schlager's seat, interrupted. "Excuse me, Lord Schlager, but the Strike Cruiser, the Invincible, is hailing us. Our response?"
Schlager grinned maliciously. Now it was time for the fun to begin. "Put them on." One of the screens set into the wall of the bridge came to life, revealing an image of a slovenly middle-aged man in the green uniform of an Imperial Fleet Officer.
The man was as arrogant an officer as had ever left the Imperial Academy on Carida. Upon seeing that Schlager was a non-human, his features revealed only contempt for the pirate. "I am Commodore Grakel of the Imperial Navy! You have violated Imperial air space! Identify yourself, or be destroyed!"
Schlager rose to his full height. "I am Schlager. This planet is now mine, as is the space around it. Unless you enjoy explosive decompression or being vaporized by laser fire, I would suggest that you leave. Immediately." Schlager made the universal "kill" sign. The officer who had informed him of the transmission relayed the order to his subordinate.
Grakel's face turned red. "Why you alien son of a..." The communications technician cut off the feed.
Schlager sat back down. He was angry. He may have been a regular practitioner of genocide, but he hated racism. At least, when it was directed at him. "Let's give these Imperial bastards a surprise. Fire the Naval Gauss Rifle."
A gunnery officer began pressing buttons on his computer consol. "Lord Schlager, the magnetic capacitors will take at least thirty seconds to charge."
Schlagger glared daggers at the man. "Entering a combat zone with our main gun unready? Your incompetence will not go unpunished." Schlager gestured to one of the Battle Armor marines on either side of him. "Take him away. I want him to learn a new meaning of the word pain before he dies." As the gunnery officer was dragged away screaming for mercy, he pointed to the man's subordinate. "You are in command now. Charge the Naval Gauss Rifle. Now. Soften up the Carrack with our turbo-lasers. But don't target the Invincible. I want to take that bastard down with one shot."
The newly promoted man pressed a few buttons on his display. "Lord Schlager, barrage is beginning... now." With that, bursts of green energy began to fly from the spheroid craft, smashing against the forward shielding of the light cruiser. For a few seconds, the protective umbrella of energy held under the barrage. However, it swiftly began to shrink as the combined barrage of fifty turbolaser batteries hammered it. Eventually, the cruiser's strained shield generators could take no more, and green beams of concentrated light began to melt away tens of tons of durasteel armor plating. As the front end of the craft melted away, the Imperial's first barrage of counter fire began. Between the two craft, thirty ion cannons and an equal number of turbolasers responded to the Inquisitor's attack.
The spherical capital ship almost seemed to absorb the barrage casually. And, as suddenly as the Inquisitor's assault had begun, it stopped.
However, that was little comfort to the Carrack cruiser. The entire front half of the ship had been vaporized, leaving only the engines and rear quarters. Due to the Carrack's special design, most of the crew in that portion of the ship would survive, as the ship was divided into compartments designed to combat the hard vacuum of space.
Schlager noted that the Invincible was beginning to launch TIE fighters as the capital ship began to retreat. It was currently turning about, ready to make a run for a safe hyperspace jump point. Obviously, Commodore Grakel had no qualms about sacrificing two squadrons of TIE fighters and their pilots to ensure his own survival. The horned man queried, "How long until the Naval Gauss is ready?"
The gunner responded, "My Lord, we are ready to fire at your command."
With a predatory grin, Schlager stated almost nonchalantly, "You may fire at will."
"Aye, My Lord."
As the gunner's words left his lips, massive machinery loaded a gigantic slug tons into an even more massive cannon. Once the gigantic bullet had been loaded into the Naval Gauss Rifle's breech, the huge magnets that ran along the weapon's barrel flared to life.
The Gauss Rifle, also known as a rail gun, didn't use an explosion to propel the bullet. Instead, oppositely charged magnets within the barrel of the gun shot the metal slug at several times the speed of sound. The gigantic naval version of the standard weapon disgorged a slug roughly the size of an SUV. Once the massive bullet found its target, only the strongest energy shields or the thickest armor plating could stop it.
The Strike Cruiser had been designed to be mass produced, and due to cheap construction, lacked either. Thus, the gauss slug slammed into one end of the craft, entering through the bridge, smashed through several levels of decks, and then punched out through the back of the capital ship. A fiery explosion gutted the craft, consuming all flammable objects, including the crew, in under a second. Then, the flames stopped as they ran out of oxygen to consume. The shattered remains of the craft were pulled towards the planet by gravity, and they would make a metallic belt around the planet that would stay in place for years to come.
The TIE pilots' response was mixed. Some continued to fly straight towards the Inquisitor, either heedless of their fate or too frightened to think of anything else. Others did an abrupt U-turn, fleeing back to Mon Tessa, as if they were safe from the massive power of the spherical craft once they were on soil once again. One brave or stupid soul flew away from both, obviously hoping that his short-range fighter would carry him to safety before it ran out of fuel or oxygen.
In all, roughly a squadron of TIE fighters now streaked towards the Inquisitor.
Mr. Sulu queried his commander. "My Lord, should I launch the Furies?"
Schlager almost said yes. Then, he remembered an untested branch of his forces. He had acquired them nearly a year before, but hadn't had a good opportunity to use them as of yet. "Negative. Launch the Taurus Mobile Dolls." He considered his order. "Only launch four. Otherwise, those TIE fighters won't stand a chance, and that would be terribly dull."
Schlager felt an slight rumble pass through his ship, and then four points of light exited from one of the Inquisitor's many docking bays. From his lofty position, Schlager could only make out four tiny points of light. However, closer inspection would reveal something unheard of in Star Wars: Mobile Suits.
Each weighed in at approximately twenty five metric tons. They were humanoid in construction, with fully articulated hands. These hands clutched a massive laser. What would be the Taurus' head was surrounded by two massive extensions of the shoulders, giving the impression of horns. The four machines were completely computer automated, which allowed them to maneuver with speed that few unaugmented humans could match. Each was painted a blood red with black highlights. Although they lacked the heavy armor plating of the Gundams they shared their home universe with, their speed and significant firepower gave them the ability to slowly chip away at the heavier Suit's armor while the Gundam vainly returned fire. That tactic didn't always work, but it was usually effective against slow or weakly armored targets. The TIE fighter, much like the Strike Cruiser that had just met its maker, was designed to be mass produced, relying upon numbers instead of armor and firepower. Although reasonably fast, they couldn't match the Mobile Dolls for sheer maneuverability.
One of the fighters noticed the incoming threat. The Dolls noted the flurry of radio signals being exchanged by the fighters. Although they lacked the ability to comprehend the signals, they quickly noticed that the fighters were forming up into two lines, with six fighters in each. They flew roughly a kilometer from each other, the rear line hoping to deal with any threats that made it through the first.
It was a sound strategy, and had Schlager launched X-Wings, it would have worked. However, the Mobile Dolls began to trigger their laser cannons at a range that the fighters couldn't match. Their high rate of fire allowed them to mow down the entire front line of ships with their first barrage. Then, as they came into the remaining TIE fighters' range, they began a series of maneuvers that allowed them to flank the incoming TIE fighters. Before the startled Imperials could respond, the Mobile Dolls were firing upon them from two sides. Only one pilot survived, and that was due to the Immelman maneuver he pulled. Swinging around, he managed to get one of the Mobile Suits under his guns. He pulled both of his triggers, sending a pair of laser beams into the side of the Taurus.
One laser bolt missed, impotently sending a beam of light into the endless depths of space. The second burned into the Taurus' right arm, severing the limb at the elbow. The blast of concentrated light continued onward and gouged a hole in the Doll's torso. The Mobile Doll quickly turned about and retreated back to the Inquisitor. Unlike the versions favored in the Gundam universe, (universe GM-WG8-8957-PP) they possessed a self preservation program. After all, Schlager only had a limited supply of the Mobile Dolls, and as the Taurus' only weapon was disabled, there was little it could do.
Not that its presence was missed, as its three fellows turned their lasers upon the hapless TIE fighter. The starship was vaporized as three golden beams of concentrated light burned through its thin hull.
Schlager grinned. He looked at one of the Battle Armor troops. "Dispatch some shuttles to salvage what remains of the fighters and the capital ships. Send a few squads of marines with them. Check out the Carrack first, since it is the least damaged."
Despite its bulky, insectoid appearance, the trooper within the armor managed to salute smartly. "My Lord, what of any survivors?"
Schlager considered it for a second. "Take them alive if it's convenient. I like the irony of the slaveholders become slaves themselves." As the trooper left to carry out his orders, Schlager addressed Sulu. "Bring us into a geosynchronous orbit above their garrison headquarters. And inform my troops to ready themselves. I want to begin the invasion as soon as possible."
The man nodded. "As you wish, my Lord."
* * *
The attack had come without warning.
Well, that isn't entirely accurate. The Inquisitor had been in system for nearly six hours, and had acquired an orbit nearly three hours previously. Governor Yadat had repeatedly attempted to contact the strange invaders to determine their intentions, but his attempts had proven futile.
When a practical blizzard of shuttlecraft, fighters and the odd walker-like space ships had appeared on the sensor boards, the Governor of Mon Tessa had ordered the fighter wing launched. The seventy two TIE fighters had outnumbered the angular fighters that had maneuvered to intercept nearly four to one. They had been cut down in less than two minutes, and the sensor operator reported that only one enemy fighter had been disabled. Not even destroyed; a lucky TIE pilot had gotten off a shot into his enemy's rear quarter and taken out one of his engines.
The twenty AT-AT and AT-ST walkers and the hundreds of Stormtroopers that had made up Mon Tessa's garrison had lasted slightly longer than the fighters. The lightly armored AT-STs had been the first to fall to the attacking Leo mobile Suits. The thickly armored AT-ATs had proven more effective than their two legged counterparts, but in the end, they had been overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of enemy Mobile Suits. The Stormtroopers, the elite of the Imperial infantry, had been crushed under the feet of the Leos or vaporized by a Battle Armor suit's laser. In under half an hour, the remaining Imperials had either been slain or taken prisoner.
Two Klintir were talking. One appeared to be about six in human terms, while the other was stooped and got about with the aid of a cane. The younger one, his reptilian eyes were bright and filled with hope, while the older Klintir had a hollow, defeated look in his eyes. Yet, their apparent rescue at the hands of Schlager had allowed a slight gleam to come to the old man's eye.
The younger Klintir was prancing about, bursting with the endless energy of the very young. His Basic was accented by a reptilian hiss. "Sssee, Grandssssire? Sssee? I told you that the Rebellion would sssave us! You said I wasss wrong, but I wass right!"
The elder saurian nodded. "I sssuppose you were right, Nat."
The young boy suddenly stopped. "Grandsssire? Where are you going?"
"Well, Nat, we mussst thank our sssaviors. It would be dishonorable not to."
The two made their way, one bouncing, the other hobbling, to a pair of infantry grunts. The elder man spoke. "Sssirsss, I would like to thank you for ressscuing us. The Rebel Allianssse hasss brought the first hope that our people have felt in far too long."
The shorter man, an ugly brute with a sloping forehead and a smile missing several teeth, chuckled. "No, they haven't." Then both Klintir died as a burst of laser fire sliced through their heads. The scene was repeated across the planet, putting massive ripples through the Force.
* * *
Phil shuddered involuntarily. He glanced for a few moments, looking for the source of his discomfort. "What the... there's that sensation of a thousand voices crying out and being silenced again." It was similar to what he had felt during the time before the battle with Cell, but to a lesser degree. Seeing nothing, he went back to his training regimen. In seconds, he was blurring about the Masaki's back yard. When he was visible, he was launching a complicated series of kicks and punches.
Phil halted as he felt a shiver run down his spine. He felt strange. Not the discomfort from a moment ago. This wasn't the sensation of a thousand voices crying out at once. He felt like he was being watched. He dropped into a crouching position, powered up and began scanning the area for any threat.
That was when a green-haired blur passed over his head, missing by inches. Unfortunately for her, her line of flight was intercepted by a sticker bush.
Phil blinked. "Lotion? What the hell are YOU doing here? I thought that I'd gotten rid of you."
Indeed, it was the young Chinese Amazon. Normally, she possessed a grace and beauty that was the envy of women and left a distinct impression on men. At the moment, cut and bleeding from dozens of tiny cuts and thrashing around in an unkempt bush, she lost a bit of her mystique.
She cried out, "Less talk, more help!"
Arthur seized control of their mouth. "Do not worry, fair maiden. I shall assist thee!"
This assistance wasn't as easily given as it was promised. Neither Phil nor Arthur knew what kind of plant it was, but natural selection had evidently decided to give it a series of thorns and prickles that would have made a porcupine jealous. After circling the struggling Amazon and the plant a few times, Phil found the easiest way of extracting her from her leafy prison. "Don't move." Phil summoned a very low powered Chi bolt, and slowly burned his way through the shrubbery. There was a yelp of pain as Lotion developed a second degree burn on her right leg. "Stop squirming already, or else you can get out on your own."
There was a stream of curses as the young Amazon extricated herself from the sticker bush. She was bleeding freely from several spots, and there were small burns across her limbs. Phil sighed as he pulled a senzu bean from one of the symbiote's pockets. "Here, eat this before you get an infection." He tossed her the magic legume, and folded his arms across his chest. "Now, what are you doing here?"
Lotion grimaced as the magic of the bean rebuilt destroyed skin cells and replaced lost blood. It wasn't painful, so much as unpleasant. Lotion's discomfort came more from the Senzu bean's bitter taste. "Naughty husband! Leaving wife behind to find you! Lo Shun here take you to tribe."
Phil balled his hands into fists. "Look, for the last time, we aren't married!"
Arthur took a stern tone in the back of Phil's mind. "What? Thou hast taken a wife and left her behind? Such unchivalrous behavior, Squire!"
"Look, Arthur, it wasn't a Christian marriage or anything that you would acknowledge. It's an obscure law of their tribe; you beat a member of their tribe, and they either have to kill you or marry you. She attacked me, I beat her, made it clear that I didn't acknowledge their laws, and left. End of story." Phil glared at Lotion. "Or so I'd thought."
"Who is husband talking to?"
Phil had an idea. "Well, I'm Schizophrenic. Yup, crazy as a loon. You sure don't want me in the tribe. Now go back home!"
"What is loon?"
Phil smacked his face. "Damn cultural barriers. Look, I have voices in my head that aren't my own. I'm too crazy to be an Amazon."
Lotion shook her head. "You is not knowing some Amazons."
Phil cocked an eyebrow. "What happened to your grammar? I mean, you spoke normally before."
"Lo Shun in Japan, so Lo Shun trying Japanese. Is not going good."
Phil groaned. "Look, just speak Mandarin? I can understand it."*
"Oh. OK. Look, you really need to come back with me or else I won't be allowed to return. Or at least, if I do, I'm going to be punished. So please, come back. It won't be so bad." She sidled up next to Phil, pressing herself up against him. "A pretty wife, all the battle you could want and you get to have as many children as you like. You have to perform a few chores, and we don't have much technology, but overall it's a good life. What do you say?"
Arthur heard this, and was intrigued. It sounded much like the life he preferred. "Squire, remind me why thou art reluctant to pursue this marriage?"
Phil, not caring Lotion overheard, said, "Even if this was a marriage recognized by any government anywhere, WHICH IT ISN'T, what she fails to mention is that men are treated as little more than slaves, we would be expected to keep our mouths shut unless a woman spoke directly to us and we can't be the King of England if we're cleaning some hut in rural China."
Arthur considered this. "Thou hast a good point, Squire."
Phil growled. "I'm not going with you, wench! So get out of here! Shoo! Scat!"
Lotion was confused. "But Mr. Masaki said I could use one of his guest rooms."
Phil's eye twitched. "OH HE DID, DID HE?!" A bright yellow aura flared to life around Phil, and he strained to hold back the Super Saiyan transformation. "GO AWAY NOW!"
Lotion complied. Very quickly. "Hmmm. Husband is angry. I'll try again later."
Then Phil saw something. Something terrifying. Something unexpected. Something implausible. Something...
...that won't be revealed until next chapter. SO THERE!
End Part 42
*Phil doesn't speak Chinese. Remember, all of the Physics Police have universal translators in their ears, as well as throat implants so that their speech is modified to match the local language requirements.
