Right around the time I released Chapter 27, I finished the CoD MW trilogy. God, MW2 is so fucking good – I couldn't give less of a shit about the SAS side of the story, seeing Virginia and DC in flames was so fucking awesome. CoD4 was also pretty good, and MW3 was just meh.
Also got around to watching Season 7 of TCW – couldn't give two fucks about the Ahsoka episodes but Anaxes and Mandalore were top shit. Really makes me wish they pulled that one Boba episode back for Season 7. Also caught on with Bad Batch. I like them, although I still like Delta Squad more. Also, Project Wingman is fucking sick and reminds me that I need to beat Squadrons still.
Read and review.
Sawei meditated inside of her private quarters – a dusty old thing that hadn't seen any use since she went into carbonite and Master Ar'ai ended up with the Rakata as a spy, however in the name of the Force that happened. The room was halfway between a military bunk and a personal study – her bed was to the right when coming in from the corridor, and there was a set of shelves with a mix of holocrons, datatapes, and actual, honest to goodness paper books to the left, alongside a fold-out desk. The holocrons were partly her own personal musings on the Force, her training as a Padawan, and so on, and partly a collection she had copied from the texts in the Jedi Archives – a collection that would likely be priceless in this day and age, thanks to the Empire.
Sawei paused to consider all that had transpired in the wider galaxy since the 52nd became stranded here. The Clone Wars had ended with the Republic, or rather, what was left of it, as victorious. Then, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine declared the existence of the Empire, with him as its Emperor, and ordered a purge of the Jedi. Every Jedi the Empire could get its hands on was hunted down and executed like a rabid dog by their own troops. Even considering the fates of those she knew at the Temple put a sinking feeling in her gut. Jugrin, Heilor, Boksa – all of them, dead and released to the Force.
Naturally, Sawei's meditation on the Jedi she knew that were likely dead and her personal feelings on them led her back to the argument she had with Kyra the other day. To say Kyra was protective of those she was close to would be an understatement – she was completely and utterly unwilling to make sacrifices for her own good. It was almost as if she was willing to self-destruct out of spite, rather than to give up her lover and her Zeltron friend. Sawei knew that the Council refused Force-sensitive children over a certain age – even Master Skywalker being trained was contentious at the time despite being the literal Jedi Chosen One. Kyra, were they in the days of the Order, would have been soundly rejected if she approached them independently, and going by their reputation, the Morynes likely would have refused to give her up as a child as well.
Perhaps that would explain Kyra's… visceral reaction. It might just run in her family.
However, as the sinking feeling in Sawei's stomach grew, she began to consider that maybe, just maybe, Kyra had a point. Something had very obviously gone wrong with the Jedi in the final days of the Republic. The Sith had completely and utterly outmaneuvered them, and the overwhelming majority of the Order was now dead. The only question still remaining in her mind, though, was what actually let the Sith win. Did the Jedi get complacent, as Kyra believed? Was it the will of the Force? Or was there something more to it?
Sawei resigned herself to the fact that she may never actually have an answer to that question, and that she was likely never meant to know. There was a short knock on the door to her quarters. "Come in." Sawei called out, and she heard the door open.
"Oh, my apologies, Master Klorr." a man said, and Sawei immediately pinned him as the one who came into the training chamber several days prior. "I didn't know you were in the middle of something, um..." the man stumbled.
Sawei opened her eyes and gave him a warm smile to put him at ease. "It's fine, actually. I was just finishing up." Sawei replied, getting up from the floor and stretching a bit. "What was it that you needed?"
The man produced a datapad, showing an active security recording from outside of the walls. "There's a situation developing right now – Blackwall wants you on it..."
Tiro and Baval exited their scout speeder as slowly as possible. Zero sudden movements – there were about a thousand guns trained directly on their heads, and more anti-tank weaponry than they could sneeze at aimed directly at their only means of getting back to base. Slowly, they raised their hands in the air, and put them behind their heads. "Really hope some rookie doesn't accidentally pull the trigger and splatter my brains all over the dirt." Tiro dryly remarked, already regretting accepting this mission. He was used to being away from the guns pointed at him, not out in the open as a ready-made target to plink.
The protocol droid the Tetrarch had provided them – FX-P0, or Effex, as he preferred to be called, slowly stepped out of the vehicle, and the pair could see a clear look of confusion on the faces of the men manning the walls. Effex gave a brief nod to the pair, and then shouted something up to the guards. Their confusion only mounted, before a rope was launched over the side of the wall, and another droid slid down – clearly designed for combat. Speaking in the same foreign tongue Effex used to communicate, the droid looked to the pair with what might have been an uncertain gaze, while an ominous hum emanated from the droid's internal workings. "I have told this droid that we are representatives of the rebel forces that their leader wished to reach out to, and that we have come to discuss terms of an alliance." Effex explained in Rakatan. "I believe this one is checking with the chain of command to make sure we are expected." he continued, and the droid returned to its empty gaze at the pair, before barking an order of some kind. "The droid wants to pat you down for weapons before transport arrives to pick us up."
"...Go ahead." Tiro replied hesitantly, and Effex echoed the response to the droid, who slowly approached the pair with its weapon slung over its back. Patting them down and presumably scanning them, the droid removed their handslugs and emergency blades, before storing them in a backpack that looked like it was built into the droid.
It then said something to Effex. "These will be returned to you when we are permitted to leave." Effex said.
Baval rolled his eyes. "Great, unarmed so they can dome us at a moment's notice." he bitterly commented. Within the next several minutes, as the tension grew between the envoys and the guards, there was a distant rumbling that came from inside the walls, and as it grew closer, the men on the wall seemed to ease up. Tiro and Baval saw the source of the noise – a transport gunship of obviously alien design. Slowing down and landing between their transport and the wall, a side door slid open, revealing multiple droids of similar design to the one that greeted them, all armed to the teeth. One motioned with its free hand to get in, and barked something in the alien language that was commonplace among the ranks of the Interlopers. Hesitating only momentarily, Tiro and Baval got on, with Effex following suit.
The side door sealed, but left the slats open, letting the pair get a good look at the settlement that had sprung up around the downed voidship. Much to their surprise, there was active construction pretty much everywhere. Roads were actively being dug up for power lines and piping to be laid down inside, with said equipment being carried around by similar droids to the ones in the transport now, alongside much larger cargo lifters. Defenses were well in excess, and even the organic guards they had were better armed than intel had suggested.
The transport carried them towards the voidship, the Dropstorm, as the message had called it, and landed inside a hangar that ran along the length of the ship. There, they were escorted to an organic guard by the droids. He was carrying some sort of autoslug that still had the factory oiling on it, and seemed to be glaring at them through his opaque blue visor. Regardless, he motioned for them to come along.
Already feeling the stares from the others, the trio followed the guard to the back of the hangar, leaving their previous escort behind. He took them to a lift, where they were joined by two more guards carrying a similar armament, and they filtered into the lift. The first guard hit a button near the top of what must have been the control panel, and they felt the lift lurch into the air. Taking them time to look over their equipment, Tiro was surprised by how advanced it was – environmentally sealed with what was likely backup life support mounted to the waist, mountings on the helmet for additional communications equipment, or possibly NBC gear, and the armor plating proper being attached to an undersuit that appeared to be modular, and what seemed to have been a capacitor for a shield running along the length of their spine. Whatever it was, it blew the equipment the rebels had out of the water.
The lift came to a stop, revealing a communications room with a central tactical map, currently displaying the rings. Looking over the map was Blackwall, flanked by four junior officers, as well as one of those Twi'lek things. With a simple gesture, he dismissed them, leaving the envoys to negotiate, aside from the guards, who took up posts at the exits, and Effex started to translate the discussions.
"Greetings, gentlemen. I am Commander Blackwall, of the Grand Army of the Republic's 52nd Helljumper Legion. I'm pleased that my message actually got through to you, and moreso that you were able to translate it." Blackwall started, catching himself from going any further. "Before we begin, what are your names?"
Tiro pointed to himself. "I'm Tiro," he said, before gesturing to Baval. "That's Baval."
Blackwall nodded in acknowledgment. "Well then, Tiro, let's hear what terms you want to put on the table."
Tiro produced a dataslate that the Tetrarch had given him with a list of what was to be expected of this alliance. "Let's see..." he trailed, reading over what the Tetrarch wrote. "First off, we're requesting your aid for deep strike operations deep inside of Dantinian's territory, as well as industrial support to produce new arms and armor for our guerilla forces. We don't exactly have much of an industrial base, as you can probably tell."
Blackwall raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think we have any sort of heavy industry to arm you?"
Baval was about to pipe up, but Tiro shut him down. "You've got a lot of construction going on here, plus, the gear on your men seems brand new. You've clearly got something to make new gear, otherwise you'd be in the same situation we are." Tiro opined. Baval was about to blow a gasket, thinking he had just thrown the negotiations out the window not even two seconds in, but Blackwall just smiled.
"Good eye. Yes, industrial support can be arranged, as can military once we're in a better position. What else do you wish to put out for me?"
Tiro checked the dataslate again. "...The Tetrarch, provided we win this war against Dantinian, wants you to aid in the transition of government he plans to implement, and..." Tiro continued, only to stop and stare at what he was reading. "...I'd like to see the Dreamer before we go any further with this."
Blackwall hesitated, but didn't show it in a way that Tiro and Baval would understand. He and Sawei exchanged unsure glances. On the one hand, Moryne was deeply important to the Rakata in a way that he didn't fully understand, and perhaps more could be learned about this whole Dreamer issue. On the other, she was only one of two Force wielders with any degree of training. Opting to give them the benefit of the doubt, Blackwall pressed down on his commlink. "Send for Moryne, if you'd be so kind." he requested, before getting a muffled confirmation from the other end. "She will be here soon. Now, in the meantime, what other terms do you have?"
'She'? the pair thought. They weren't really ones to discriminate, and the legends regarding the Dreamer were always vague, but many in the rebel camp would be disquieted by this news – mostly the fundamentalists and conservatives who still clung to the customs and prejudices of the old Empire, in spite of Virgilius's accomplishments. Regardless of their misgivings, the Dreamer being around finally meant that things could move forward properly. Shaking off the surprise of the Dreamer being a woman, Tiro went through other terms the Tetrarch had set out, not really worthy of note in detail.
After a while, there was the distinctive humming sound of the lift coming up, and the door slid open to reveal a human woman with long, white hair and bright blue eyes. She was clothed in a brown duster, with armor plating underneath. She seemed… confused? Tiro was only able to guess judging by her body language. Effex opted to not translate the conversation between the Dreamer and Blackwall.
"What did you need me for, Commander?" Kyra questioned, somewhat groggily, and then her gaze fell upon Tiro and Baval, and she slowly reached for her blaster.
Blackwall put his hand up and signaled for Kyra to stand down, and reluctantly, she moved her hand away from her blaster. "These two are envoys from the Rakatan rebels that Ar'ai mentioned. They asked to see you before we continued our negotiations." he explained, casting a glance upon the aliens.
Kyra regarded the pair with suspicion. They seemed to be eyeing her with almost childlike wonder. She knew little about what the Rakata thought of the Dreamer, aside from what Apprentice had told her, but clearly they were amazed, humbled, even, to merely be in her presence. "...Hello?" she greeted, unsure of what to say to the pair, and Effex prepared to resume translation. "I'm Kyra Moryne, the… Dreamer." she continued, still uncertain of how to interact.
Tiro and Baval straightened their postures, crossed their arms over their chests in an X-shape, and stomped their boots against the floor twice – some sign of respect, maybe? "We are not worthy of being in your presence, Dreamer!" they shouted in awe.
Taken aback by the sudden display, Kyra waved her hand to signal for them to relax. "There's no need to be so formal with me." she replied in embarassment, not used to being worshiped like, well, a god.
Kyra's words didn't affect the pair in the slightest, and while they were still revering her, Baval appeared to break away momentarily – a thought crossing his mind. "Dreamer, could you… demonstrate your abilities?" he asked, as if he were an eager child seeing something amazing for the first time. Opting to entertain the request, Kyra reached out with the Force to an officer's cap that someone had left at a nearby console. Floating it slow enough that the pair could see, she maneuvered it onto her head, let go with the Force, and fitted it properly. Both were pleased, and returned to face Blackwall. "Is that all, Blackwall, or do you want me to stay?"
Briefly considering present company, Blackwall nodded. "It might be best if you stayed until the negotiations are done, Kyra." he advised, before returning his focus to Tiro and Baval. "Now then, I believe it's my turn to set out the terms for this alliance." Blackwall stated, before pulling out a datapad with his terms. "First, I want intelligence documents on every bit of Dantinian's forces, from standard infantry equipment to his armored forces and everything in-between. Second, I want information on the hidden caches of technology around the ring – we'll need every advantage we can get against him..."
Blackwall's terms went on for what felt like hours, and Kyra had to resist the urge to fall asleep at the meeting. The Dreamer getting bored of an important meeting wouldn't reflect well at all, and the soldier closest to her offered her a stimpill, which she graciously accepted. Finally, Blackwall finished reading out his terms for the alliance, and Tiro nodded. "I believe most of what you want is feasible for us, splintered as we are. I will relay this to the Tetrarch." he replied, giving some sort of Rakatan salute to Blackwall. There was a distinct look of concern on his face, but it quickly disappeared.
"Then I believe this meeting is adjourned." Blackwall said, before turning to one of the guards near the lift. "Backfire!" he shouted.
"Sir!" Backfire answered, snapping to attention.
"Show our guests to their quarters, would you?" he ordered, motioning for the group to follow him. However, Blackwall stopped Effex. "If you don't mind, I'd like a datachip containing your knowledge of the Rakatan language so we can fit it into our other protocol droids and personal translators." Blackwall requested.
Effex's receptors flickered momentarily. "Of course, Commander. I will have it ready for you by the evening." the droid responded, and then followed his handlers to the turbolift, which quickly shut and went down to the lower decks.
Blackwall then focused his attention on Sawei as the guards loosened up. "That probably could have gone better." he admitted, sounding slightly embarassed. Kyra, however, was confused – she thought the negotiations had gone well. "I think I was a little too aggressive, Sawei, especially considering this is first contact."
Sawei put her hand on her hips. "Perhaps you should have let me do the talking, then." she remarked. "You're a soldier, not a diplomat."
Kyra didn't have much else to add, so she took the officer's hat off and quietly excused herself.
Nax had seen fit to do a gear check, and, at the moment, was testing the waters with his DC-17. While he may have had it for a few months, he never really tried taking it apart. Actually, he'd been lugging around that grenade launcher attachment in his bag since that first expedition to the outpost, and figured that now was as good a time as any to test the waters with it.
While he was in the middle of learning how to change out the barrel attachment, Kyra came back to the Knight, and Nax gave her an acknowledging look. "Back already?" he questioned, catching his finger on some sort of release and yanking it back instinctively.
Kyra snickered at his misfortune, before giving Nax a quick peck on the cheek. "Blackwall wanted me on the bridge." she answered, yawning a little. "There was something I had to sit in on for a while, felt like I was gonna fall asleep right there and blow the whole thing."
Nax tested what seemed to be the actual launcher part of the attachment, pressing down on some sort of plate near the bottom of the barrel, and the whole tube flickering to life with rings of light going all the way to the end of the barrel. "What would that thing be, then?" he questioned, giving her a half-glance while he worked.
"Negotiating an alliance with rebel Rakata fighting against Dantinian." Kyra blurted out. Nax paused, and then resumed working. "They, uh, wanted to see me specifically." she continued, rubbing her arm. "...It's the Dreamer thing again."
"Not used to being the center of attention?" Nax mused.
"...No." Kyra eventually replied, sounding somewhat upset. "I hate it, actually. It's a lot of pressure for me alone to handle, being the key to an entire race of people, and what pretty much any long-term strategy will revolve around." she continued, looking up to Nax. "That, and I don't think it's going to get any easier for me when we get to Alderaan. It's all so…" she trailed. "...so stressful."
Nax set the launcher aside and took his gloves off, turning his full attention to Kyra. "Then what keeps you going?" he questioned.
Kyra playfully poked him in the chest. "You do, you idiot." she said with a cheeky smile. Kyra then hopped onto the table and grabbed Nax's hand. "As sappy as it sounds, you're what keeps me from throwing my hands in the air and saying frag it all to everything going on right now." Kyra went on, a blush beginning to grow on her cheeks. "I don't want to lose you, ever, and if that means shouldering all of this, well, so be it." Kyra finished, pulling Nax closer to her and bringing him into a kiss. Unconsciously wrapping her legs around his back, Kyra pulled out of the kiss. "By the stars, Nax, I would move mountains for you." she declared, and Nax was flattered. Going back in for round two, their hands started snaking their way down each other's backs.
The moment, however, was immediately ruined by Kyra's holocomm buzzing. Regretfully pulling away, she pressed it to find that it was none other than Sawei calling. "Where-" she started, before she registered what she was seeing on her end, and it was exactly what it looked like. "Training room. Now." Sawei commanded, furious with Kyra for ignoring her orders, and the holocomm clicked off.
Kyra let out a disappointed sigh at having been caught in the act. "For the love of-" she hissed in frustration at being interrupted again. She thought she would have some time alone at the very least, but it seems that Sawei had other plans for her. Getting off the table, Kyra pulled Nax into one last kiss. "Don't worry, Nax. I'll handle it." she said reassuringly, before leaving to inevitably get chewed out by Sawei.
Avalos sifted through the demands set out by the Interloper leader, Blackwall, sent back by Tiro thanks to him carrying a long range vox at all times. Most of what they wanted was manageable, with some coordination between cells. The only thing that would cause any sort of issue would be Blackwall's desire for knowledge on the caches hidden around, as well as the technology inside.
Most of Virgilius's research staff and 'old guard' types were caught up in Noridar when Dantinian launched his coup, and were swept up in the purges. A few got out and joined the rebels, alongside the field researchers who were nowhere near Noridar, but overall they were at a major disadvantage in comparison to Dantinian.
Turning over to his dataslate stack of priority targets, he grabbed the top one – a months-old tactical analysis of Wargate Hold, a biotech lab that had been turned into a place of nightmares for those imprisoned within. Torture devices not seen since the days of the Empire proper were employed inside, and there was also a relatively consistent flow of information regarding the prisoners – many of Virgilius's top advisors were there, their minds stuck in mind prisons while their bodies were frozen on a lower level of the facility. That, of course, wasn't to speak of the defenses. Between the heavily armed attack gunships, the three layers of double reinforced volonium-silcrete walls, the anti-air batteries with several sectors worth of sensor coverage, the heavy armor company, and a brigade's worth of infantry, as well as the interior defenses – automated sentry guns, laser tripwires that send cell blocks into lockdown when tripped, and so on, all meant that Wargate was nothing short of an impenetrable fortress, and would be a meatgrinder were the rebels to tackle it head-on.
That, at least, was the case before this alliance with the Interlopers was a viable possibility. With their support, they could absolutely overwhelm the defenses and rescue the prisoners. However, what would be left of their minds would effectively be up in the air. Still, if Blackwall wanted his information, he had to commit to this prison break.
Immediately, he began to draw up plans for an assault. A forward scout team would sit at a vantage point and mark targets, namely anti-air batteries and sensor stations, which would then be promptly hit with precision artillery strikes. Interceptors would then come in and clear out the air power while the artillery fires indiscriminately to soften the defenses up for the ground forces, which would be airdropped in. Attack craft would then provide the ground forces with heavy close air support until they breached Wargate proper, and the interceptors would fend off any counterattacks until the prisoners could be extracted. Perhaps a riot could be thrown in to cause more chaos for the defenders?
Avalos iterated upon his plans for some time, before sending them off to Tiro, along with his new terms, with what Blackwall wanted taken into account. Thankfully, it seemed like Blackwall was a practical leader, as opposed to any of the politicians he had known in his life, who would dance around the negotiations and stall for political clout. A refreshing change, at the very least.
Sawei was running Kyra through the agility course that she and Master Ar'ai had set up years ago, practicing her use of Force Speed and Force Jump. Kyra, perhaps a bit unsurprisingly by this point, had picked up on the usage of the two powers extremely well, and with just a few hours of practice, she had learned to skip major sections of the course with great ease.
Leaping from the last wall of the course, Kyra flew through the open door of the upper observation center and went into a roll, pulling out of it to immediately stand up. "Time?" she asked, out of breath and absolutely drenched in sweat.
"Fifteen-point-two seconds." Sawei read off a datapad, sliding a water canteen over to her. "You're starting to plateau. Run it again." she commented. Kyra knew exactly why Sawei was pushing her so hard, and Sawei wasn't exactly oblivious to her lack of a response, either. Sawei sighed and set her datapad against the console. "...Why is this such an issue for you, Moryne?"
Kyra didn't answer for a while, instead choosing to guzzle the canteen. When she finished, she tossed it aside and wiped her mouth off. "Because he helped save my life?" Kyra replied, sounding as if Sawei knew the details of that in full. "I've never really told you about this, but when I escaped the slave ship, I landed on Tatooine and made my way to Mos Eisley to look for transport offworld, just to get as far away from those… those..." Kyra struggled to say, feeling her anger bubble up, but quickly getting it under control, she turned to face Sawei. "...Every single smuggler captain I met in that bar that night was scum. Everyone except for him."
Sawei crossed her arms, unimpressed with the direction Kyra was taking this.
"When I first saw him, I tried to walk away, but he kept me there to hear me out, since I was obviously desperate for help. He didn't have the Knight back then, so what he offered me was a job. I worked with him as a bounty hunting partner to make money to buy a ship, he'd give me a place to live, and we'd split whatever was left over when he actually bought the ship, and then he'd give me a free one-way trip to wherever I wanted." she explained, remembering the terms of the agreement. "For all I knew, he could have just taken me into a back alley, and that would've been the last anyone would hear from me." Kyra went on, shivering at the grim thought. "Instead, Nax took me in and treated me like someone he'd been friends with his entire life. He was constantly covering for my mistakes and teaching me how to fend for myself, and not once did he ever ask for anything in return outside of the original deal." she explained, describing Nax as if he were a saint. "Nax's unwavering belief in me was what finally gave me the courage to fight back against Lostur – without him, I'd either be dead, or some attraction on Zygerria." Kyra continued, well aware that she was basically rambling at this point. "It wasn't love at first sight, but I came to realize after we left Tatooine that he was everything I could feasibly want out of a man, and I only recently got the courage to tell him how I felt." she finally finished leaning over the console and looking out towards the training room, her look somber. "So there, that's why this is 'such an issue', Sawei – it's because I refuse to abandon someone who has treated me with nothing but kindness when he had no reason to, considering I was basically a street beggar when we met. Even trusting me enough to reciprocate my feelings – I was actually worried when I confessed that this was some lasting effect of being enslaved, and that he didn't feel the same way."
Sawei, at the very least, seemed to be listening to Kyra's opinion, which was a step up from the constant interruptions that this conversation had resulted in beforehand. However, listening to her opinion didn't necessarily mean that Sawei was giving Kyra the green light to stay with Nax, and she knew this. "...Run the course again, Kyra." Sawei bluntly said, completely avoiding Kyra's spiel.
"...That's it?" Kyra questioned, most definitely offended by Sawei's lack of commitment to this topic. "All of that, and the only thing you have to say is 'run it again'? Really?"
Sawei, however, was at her limit. "What do you want me to say, Kyra? Do you want me to say that you're right, and throw out something I've based a major part of my life around, entirely because of your attachment to one man?" she snapped, her fury restrained, but she quickly calmed down. "Life is not some hologame, and I'm not going to change my entire worldview based on your whims." she said in scathing tone, as if Kyra were a five year old. "...While I've come to understand your position, Kyra, I am unlikely to change my mind."
Kyra turned away and frowned. While Sawei saying she had come to understand Kyra's position was a start, Kyra was disappointed with how rigid Sawei was in her beliefs. Regardless, she prepared to run the course again.
Several days after the negotiations began, Foreman and Blackwall poured over the battle plan the Rakatan leader had submitted, alongside his new terms with what the 52nd wanted out of the deal taken into consideration. As it so happened, if the 52nd wanted the edge over Dantinian in terms of access to the caches and how to operate the technologies hidden within, they had to go along with this prison break plan against a place called Wargate Hold – some sort of gulag for political prisoners and other enemies of Dantinian's state.
However, the more they went over their own reports from probe droids stationed near the prison, the more they both determined that this was a suicide mission. Or, at least, it would be for the organics, not so much the B1As. "...I don't think even Geonosis had this much air coverage." Blackwall remarked, looking at an image of one of the anti-air batteries.
"It didn't." Foreman dryly replied, pointing to one of the sensor towers. "I've had a design for HARMs lying around. I'll make some adjustments so they fit on the new Thundercat pylons."
"Assuming they're dumb enough to turn the sensors on, that is. That's the one fault of SEAD." Blackwall said, changing his attention to the prison proper. "Think we could drop an EMP to pop the defenses?"
Foreman's receptors flickered yellow momentarily. "An EMP would likely disable the surface defenses, but without a detailed report on Wargate's construction, I cannot accurately predict whether it would hinder the interior defenses." he commentated, tapping his manipulator against the planning table. "Additionally, were an EMP to have an effect on the interior defenses, it's possible that it could disrupt these 'mind prisons' where several of our HVTs are being held and inadvertently kill them. However, it's also possible they draw their power from the Force, and not any conventional electrical source." Foreman theorized with what little information he had available to him, pushing his processors to theorize how a Force-powered object would work, only to shut them down once they inevitably started to overload.
Blackwall cracked his fingers, still staring at the most certainly insane plan that the Rakatan leader cooked up. "I'll press the envoys for more information on the mind prisons, and if they can get us anything on Wargate's construction. Maybe even a layout if we're lucky." he half-joked.
Foreman remained quiet, and then turned his head to Blackwall. "...Is this how you clones fought the entire war? With faulty, incomplete intel?" Foreman questioned, his receptors seeming to narrow.
That got a laugh from Blackwall. "No, because we actually have intelligence. Not a day went by fighting you clankers that we weren't operating in the dark." he replied, sorting away some datapads under the table. "It was actually something of an in-joke that Republic Intelligence was, well, bad. Don't think they ever got the funding the GAR did." he continued, pulling it from memory. "But, if I recall correctly, the Jedi actually had their own intelligence service that wasn't a total mess, and that's what all the important battles used. Any time there wasn't a Jedi around, though, we were out on our ass with whatever RepInt spat out for us. If they spat out for us."
Foreman was incapable of properly expressing his shock at how disorganized the clones must have been. Even OOM models, as basic as they were compared to even the initial Tactical Droids, tried to coordinate and gather intelligence as best they could. Then again, perhaps that inherent unpredictability was why the Republic was winning regularly, even in battles with minimal to nonexistent Jedi presence. "Maker preserve me, I'm working with a madman." Foreman chided, earning a stifled snicker from Blackwall.
"If you think that's bad, you haven't seen anything yet." Blackwall responded, earning only mock disappointment from Foreman.
A group of Rakata peered out of their cell, their faces pressing up against the hardlight barrier that kept them packed in like a school of kalines, body to body, with no room to even stretch their emaciated limbs. Claustrophobic would be an understatement. The cellblock itself was completely pitch black to keep them docile, and the only time any lights were turned on was when the guards were entering the block to pull someone from their cell, never to be seen again.
Today was one of those days.
The lights kicked on, blinding all in the cellblock for a while, and by the time their eyes adjusted to the lights, there was a group of guards in front of their cell. Two of them were in exos, while the others were in heavy riot gear that concealed their features. The guard furthest to the right tapped at the external control panel, and the hardlight barrier fell, while the prisoners stood, paralyzed in fear. "Out." one of the exos boomed, spinning up his minigun to emphasize the point.
Slowly, the prisoners exited the cell, and were sandwiched between the guards, who proceeded to take them out of the cellblock and towards another section of the prison entirely. They passed through what must have been dozens of different areas, all clearly meant for use by facility personnel. Some of the staff they were moved past gave them a smug look of superiority, while others looked on in disgust, knowing full well why they were here and what was about to happen to them. Any prisoner that fell behind was given a thorough beating with a stunstick, before being thrown to the front of the group just to force others to stumble and cause more beatings, all in some sick, sadistic game played by the guards.
The guards finally stopped in front of a large vault door that took up an entire hallway. Inputting a passcode, the door swung inwards, and the guards in front fanned out to the sides of the exterior hallway, while the exos in the back pushed the group inside, before shutting the door on them. The group was uneasy and confused – the room had no other exit aside from the one they came through, the lighting was poor considering what was outside, and there seemed to be pipes coming down from the ceiling. A few of the prisoners tried to look up into the pipes, but they started spewing poisonous fumes within a minute, and in less than half that time, the room had filled with the toxic gas. Choking and wheezing, the prisoners clinged to life as best they could while the gas filled their lungs.
Their suffering would be ended with a single spark, and the gas turned to fire, incinerating everything in the room in an instant, leaving only ash and scorchmarks behind. Ventilation kicked in, and whatever remained of the gas was sucked out and expelled into the atmosphere. Then, the vault door unsealed, and one of the riot guards stepped in to check if anything survived. Satisfied, he left, leaving the door cracked open.
There was a quiet chime on the external vox linked up throughout the facility. 'Cleanup team to chamber two, cleanup team to chamber two. Sterilization protocol completed.' it said in its cold, clinical voice.
Their group had not committed any crime worthy of being killed in such a manner. They were women, children, husbands, wives, sons, and daughters, not treasonous, subversive elements, no matter what the PropBuro said. Yet here they were, put down like a pack of rabid dogs, their corpses burned to ash. This was not 'state security', this was slaughter on an industrial scale, plain and simple.
They were not the first, and would not be the last. Such was the way things went in Wargate, and it would be the way it would continue for the foreseeable future.
That's that chapter.
Sorry it's so short, but I can't really think of much to add that shouldn't just be in it's own chapter, which finally means I'll stop stalling and kick off the war.
'Til next time!
-Tweak