Chapter 33
Thirty-nine hours after the commander promised an EVAC
The death trooper cracks Gary, snapping his head back. Miraculously, he grabs the rifle, leading to a fierce struggle. Serpent quick, she knees him in the gut and the thigh but fails to break free. Suddenly, Gary surges forward, headbutting her and shoving her against the wall.
"Two more!" Dr. Wither shouts, jerking the commander's attention away from their fight. Death troopers expertly slip along the edge of the door. The commander switches to full auto and unleashes a burst. He hits the bulkhead first, then the soldier twice in the chest. The death trooper staggers as his comrade retreats behind the entrance. Even wounded, the death trooper raises his blaster and fires, forcing the commander to dart behind a console. Bolts of plasma pierce it with a splurt of sparks and fire.
Wither blasts the door console, and it slams shut, trapping the two troopers outside. Then aims at the melee, unable to fire without risking Gary. The original death trooper recovers, stamps Gary's foot, then sweeps his legs. He falls but stubbornly holds on, anchoring her. She knees him in the face, but even stunned; he tears the rifle from her grasp.
The commander swings out from cover and fires.
The death trooper launches into a roll beneath his blasts, advancing on the doctor. She explodes into a kick, knocking the pistol from Wither's hand. The doctor blocks a punch but not the next one, then throws her own punch connecting with the death trooper's helmet. The death trooper spins with it, kicking her and tossing Dr. Wither to the ground.
Suddenly in the open, the commander blasts once, twice, then a third time. Unbelievably, she dodges the first, rolls under the second and third then draws her pistol. Two quick blasts force the commander behind the console again.
Gary clubs her with the carbine he took, knocking the pistol from her grip. Dr. Wither climbs to her feet and rushes to attack as the death trooper ducks under another swing from Gary.
The death trooper front-kicks him and immediately swings into a rear kick, blasting the air from the doctor's lungs. Wither stumbles as the death trooper punches Gary and knocks the carbine from his hands. Wither draws her scalpel and lunges, her blade piercing the death trooper's back. Instead of severing her spine, the scalpel hits something metallic and turns. Although she grievously injures the soldier, it does little to stop her. Instantly, she elbows Wither in the face and slugs Gary, again.
Unwilling to wait for another chance, the commander lowers his rifle and charges, drawing his ax. The death trooper shoves Gary back before facing him. She steps inside his swing, catches his wrist, and throws the commander over her shoulder. He lands hard but clutches her arm and yanks her off balance. She jerks but only succeeds in dragging him, so she kicks him in the head, then stamps on it. Stars dance in his vision as fire explodes from his neck.
Wither stabs her again, causing her to cry out.
The death trooper ducks another wild punch from Gary. With a plan in mind, she lunges towards her carbine, seizing and rising again. Gary leaps away, and Dr. Wither flees for cover.
The ax flies into her chest and slams her into the bulkhead. She stares at it, astonished, before releasing an off-toned groan. Trembling, she raises her rifle, but Dr. Wither blasts her. The first bolt catches her left arm, the second her shoulder. Metallic shards and sparks fly as her arm shatters into pieces. She slips down the wall to the floor, twitching, sparking, and spasming.
"Is she dead?" Dr. Wither demands. The death trooper twitches one last time as electricity arcs from her injuries. All three aim at her again. "That…that was just one."
The commander groans, then tells her, "I think it was their squad leader,"
"You can't decorate pauldrons unless you're an officer," Gary points out. Even hunched over in pain, he laughs. "I'm going to tell everyone you got your ass kicked by a little girl."
"Shut up, Gary," the commander laughs weakly. Sitting hurts, and standing is awful.
"That's not funny!" Wither complains. She inches closer to the death trooper, examining her. "Was she a robot, some kind of assassin droid?"
"Borg is my guess," the commander replies as he takes hold of his ax, yanking it out of her chest. Instead of spewing blood, it spits sparks and reveals wires and circuits. "Remember what Diggs said. They're elite before their upgrades. She's more machine now than man."
A bright light pierces the door. Wither warns, "They're cutting through!"
"Can I take her helmet?" Gary asks irrelevantly.
"You haven't earned it," the commander reminds him. "Is there another way out?"
"Can I take her carbine?"
The commander grunts, "Yeah, sure. Start looking for another exit already."
"There's an air circulation access in the back," Gary says while examing his new sleek carbine. "It's standard imperial design; we'll have to crawl. It'll be tight for you, commander."
"They're almost through!" Wither shouts. Gary yanks twice; then, he and the doctor grasp the grating and together pull it free. They scramble inside, and the commander follows as the front door whooshes open. The commander crouches, pain spiking until he freezes. After a breath, wincing, he inches inside and pulls the grate back into place.
General Syndula considers him, offering, "We could use your help, Captain Kensington."
Her command center stares before turning its attention to her. The pathfinder nods and Hera notices the change in him…a coolness, composure he lacked hours ago. The fury seems drained away. Noticing her staff's distraction, Hera orders, "Focus. Back to your duties, techs."
They swiftly turn back to their screens. Then follow the interaction with fleeting glances and peeks from the corner of their eyes. That leaves Lord Dyer, her towering bodyguard, and the Mon Cal tech. Both Dyer and the tech watch her while her guard scrutinizes Kensington.
The pathfinder asks, "Is this the compound or Major Shin's unit?"
"We sent reinforcements to Research Station 9, but black troopers annihilated them."
"Was it a complete loss?" he asks in shock. "Black-armored or black-skinned?"
"Black-armored," she replies after a pause, realizing her mistake. "The sole survivor was their escort, and Gold-2 only caught a glimpse. We believe they slew the imperial garrison too."
Recoiling, he blinks as he considers it, then looks at Dyer. "Do you know anything?"
"I didn't even know the station existed until the attack," Dyer replies calmly. "Innumerable secret bases are placed in restricted regions, planets, or sectors. I've heard rumors of space stations conducting experiments so dangerous they won't risk them on habitable planets. It could be idle speculation, but the rumors were too prolific. There must be truth in it."
"It's the Empire; it's probably even worse," Kensington growls, more like his old self.
Hera's guard asks Lord Dyer, "What about the troopers?"
Lord Dyer hesitates before looking at each in turn, then sighs, "It's difficult to say."
"Why?" Kensington snaps. "What are you hiding?"
Her guard folds his muscular arms, and Hera reminds Dyer, "You're holding back. You need to answer if you want to avoid prison."
"It's not that," Dyer shakes his head, smirking. "The Empire is colossal but not singular. Every group you know of has many divergent subgroups you don't, often overlapping. Imagine an enormous spiderweb; it doesn't have to be perfect or even efficient as long as it works."
"You still haven't answered," Kensington insists.
"It isn't a matter of what or whom," Dyer explains with a hint of annoyance. "It's a matter of accuracy. I don't want to go to prison for holding back or the false impression that I mislead you. Every branch of the Empire had its own armed forces, handpicked from other services or trained from within it. Those forces had specialists for a given task, such as infiltrating a station and eliminating its defenders without raising the alarm."
"We get it," Hera waves irritably. "You're not certain. Now, answer me, who did this?"
"Initially, I'd say storm commandos. They're deadly and quiet but should have melted away instead of confronting your rebels. Commandos would have picked them off quietly." Lord Dyer gives Hera a pointed look. "The counterattack was ruthless, included multiple weapon platforms, and was well coordinated. That, in addition to their armor, indicates death troopers."
"They're real? Seriously?" Kensington asks skeptically.
"I've never seen them," Hera's bodyguard admits. "I only read a report on them."
"Nor, I," Hera adds. "My companions fought some, but I have not."
"They are real," Dyer assures them. "They are elite and only sent on missions considered paramount to the Empire. They arrive without warning, often in service of the ISB but not exclusively. Officers, even sector moffs, grant them full autonomy and assistance as necessary."
"I appreciate the info," Hera says politely. "But how does this help us?"
"Hopefully," Dyer looks at Kensington. "…it terrifies you. There's no trick to making this easy. They will fight to the death; your men should be ready to do the same."
"We'll do whatever is necessary," Kensington promises, and her bodyguard nods.
Hera wants to trust Captain Kensington. She wants to believe in the best of him. Perhaps it's Lord Dyer's presence, but she refuses to let her guard down.
She motions to her bodyguard, "Captain, take my friend and coordinate with the ships in orbit. Organize for an attack; ask for volunteers: specifically marines and EOD troops. This is a frontal assault. Tell the ships to prepare medical teams and infirmaries for injuries."
"Yes, ma'am," Kensington nods, turning to leave before pausing. "If I may ask, what about the commander and the compound?"
"Our scouts report the compound is quiet," Hera tells him. She hesitates to continue, then reveals to him. "The commander led his team into the research station."
Although Kensington tries to keep it from his face, an emotional storm swirls in his eyes.
"Is he with the death troopers?"
"No, we don't believe so," Hera replies.
"Whatever you think of him," Dyer swears. "The Grand Commander is no murderer."
"We think he intended to snatch a transport. Now, he wants to know what is happening and why the troopers butchered the garrison. I sent a message to encourage him."
"You sent them into that? That's cold," Kensington grimaces. Then, seeing her expression, he moderates his tone. "I'm sorry ma'am. We'll get back to you as soon as possible."
As her bodyguard and Kensington withdraw, Hera returns her attention to the console. Then she senses Dyer lurking nearby. Without looking, she asks, "What is it, Lord Dyer?"
"May I have a word with you, general," he glances at her technicians. "Privately."
After securing the room, three death troopers turn towards their downed commander. Their sniper points at her comrade and motions to their commander. The trooper swiftly examines her, then injects her with a hypospray. He uses a laser scalpel to carve off several damaged wires and pieces. The commander twitches as the trooper rewires her chest prosthesis. She takes a deep breath, shakes her head, and studies her comrades. Then, she examines her destroyed robotic arm. Angrily, she rises, pushing herself up with her sole remaining arm.
The sniper waves at her with her ruined robotic hand.
The commander smacks it out of her grasp with a CRACK! Then retrieves her pistol from the ground and storms out of the room.
Crawling is hell for the Grand Commander. His broad shoulders get stuck twice, forcing him to back up and twist awkwardly through the air vent. His blaster rifle keeps banging against the sides, ruining any chance of remaining quiet. His neck and back are on fire; he makes every move with huffing breaths. His gaze blurs as he continues forward until his body gives out. He lays his head down a moment, breathing deeply.
"You going to make it, commander?" Gary says from around the next corner.
"I think she broke something," the commander grumbles. "I'm coming."
"It's a bit further, but we can reach the command center from these ducts." The commander puts his head down again. Gary laughs at him and motions, "Give me your rifle."
The commander struggles to get it off, then hands it to him. Gary slings it, then deftly crawls further along. After a moment to collect his willpower, the commander continues. The crawling reminds him of breaking free of the mass grave, sickening him. He pushes the thought furthest from his mind, placing one hand in front of the other as he crawls, seemingly forever.
Finally, he reaches the end, where Doctor Wither and Gary huddle near a grate. Together they slowly, ever so carefully, push on it. Both turn to him and hold up a finger to their lips. Gary returns his rifle while Wither holds up two fingers, then points beyond the grate. The commander nods his understanding. They finally loosen the grate and place it on the floor beyond the air duct. Then she carefully exits. Gary follows a little less gracefully, but no alarm sounds. The commander emerges last, carefully avoiding the grate.
The room is dim; the majority of light comes from the massive green hologram of Endor. Beneath it, two death troopers work at computer consoles on the landing. The commander spots light reflected in their helmets. Neither looks up. Garbled speech passes back and forth among them regularly, but he can't decipher it.
The commander motions to his companions, positioning them behind computer consoles for cover. Then he removes an access panel from a nearby computer and throws it to the opposite side of the room. Instantly, the death troopers grab their blasters and aim in that direction. They click their weapons, and cones of light brighten the room. With catlike agility, they hop off the ramp and land silently on the lower floor. Swiftly, they approach the origin of the noise.
The commander signals then blasts the closest one in the back. The trooper drops, but the commander shoots him twice more to make certain. Gary misses his first shot, but doctor Wither hits, causing the soldier to stumble before dodging sideways. He rolls behind a console. The commander blasts it, forcing him to remain down. Then Gary aims, shooting straight through it, catching the trooper in the chest. He stumbles back, catching another bolt from Wither before the commander hits him too. He collapses.
The blast door whooshes open, and two more troopers investigate the battle. The commander drops, blasting one's legs. He cries out as he falls. The second shoots at Gary, just missing his head. The stormtrooper hides and Wither returns fire, clipping the death trooper. He spins back, protecting his wound, and primes a grenade.
Realizing they're in a bad position, the commander rushes forward. He slides behind the body of the death trooper he slew first. As the death trooper peeks to throw his grenade, the commander shoots him in the shoulder. The injury causes him to recoil and drop the grenade. Frantically, he scrambles to grab it. The detonator explodes, obliterating him.
"I like this gun!" Gary laughs, then points. "That was a lot easier!"
"Quick, lock the blast door," the commander orders. Dr. Wither races toward it and shoots the maimed soldier three times. Feeling safer, she closes the door, then locks it. She turns back as they gather in the center. "Let's find out what's worth so much trouble."
"Standard protocol requires lockdown on potential capture," Wither explains. "Those troopers looked like they were trying to slice the computers. We'd need a slicer or a computer spike to break it. Or the codes of someone higher ranked than whoever locked it."
The commander pulls his code cylinder, and Gary says, "Vee gave that to you."
"I gave it to him earlier," he divulges. A wave of exhaustion washes over him. "To make it easier to summon imperials and droids. Doctor, see if any of these troopers have medkits."
All three tense, suddenly sensing another person in the room.