Author's Note: Good gravy, it's been a while since I posted... sorry bout that! I know this one's short, but life can't afford me much time. Next one will be longer!
-Chapter 61: Another Day-
Location: Praesitlyn
"The daily grind is different for everybody."
The forest world of Praesitlyn, located in the Outer Rim Sluis sector, had been a major source of activity during the early phase of the Clone Wars. The site of a major battle between the Separatists and the Republic, it was briefly under CIS control before being conquered by Anakin Skywalker. He had been promoted to Jedi Knight because of the battle, and Praesitlyn would remain one of his prestigious achievements. Today it was the home of the Intergalactic Communications Center.
And it was under siege again.
The skeleton crew of Clone troopers assigned to defend the center scrambled to defensive positions as forward guard posts went offline one by one. Distant, thunderous explosions rattled the exterior as the Clones rushed out and into the open, quickly discovering their enemy on approach in broad daylight. He did nothing to hide himself, nor did he make to defend himself. He calmly walked onwards, caring little about the dozens of blasters pointed in his direction. The Clones recognized his shape well, having seen it too many times before in recordings where their brothers fell victim to his cruel and relentless power. But there was something different about him, something they couldn't quite place. There was no doubt about his identity, though, as his new blaster carbine ripped the nearest Clones to pieces under a steady stream of fire.
It was The Wraith alright. But it wasn't the one they were used to.
Gone was the dark blue duster, gone were the ankle-length duster tails, in its place an all-encompassing set of silver bodyarmor, tailored specifically for him. Solid plates of songsteel designed to match the shape of the muscular body beneath covered the entirety of his shoulders, chest and abdomen. Connected to this, a hip skirt layered with segmented metal armor, also forged from songsteel. His boots and gauntlets had been slimmed down and designed with a sleek new look to compliment his bulkless stature. His blaster pistols remained holstered on his hips, the holsters now part of a utility belt sporting many pouches for Wraith's various stunners, explosives, and throwing blades. In addition, a brand new set of pistols lay holstered on his thighs. They were a new set of slugthrowers, custom-built prototypes the likes of which the galaxy hadn't seen before. And even if they had, it had been so long ago their existence was wiped from modern memory.
They were larger than the average slug pistol, sporting extended magazines for an increased ammo capacity. Fully automatic in nature, these special weapons could fire off dozens of high-velocity armor-piercing rounds within seconds. The slugs were small enough and of a low enough caliber that any recoil from firing was virtually non-existent, meaning Wraith could fire and aim them perfectly without any hinderence or error. Additional clips were strapped around his legs, separate from the power cells lining the sides of his belt. His new instruments of death and devastation would be unleashed soon enough. But first, he wanted to try out a few other things...
Pressing the stock of his weapon into his shoulder, Wraith raked a steady stream of blaster fire across the Clone lines, burning scorch mark after scorch mark into their helmets. The remaining few bravely shot back, only to see their blue bolts bounced harmlessly off his armor. As soon as he was close enough, The Wraith tucked his weapon behind him and charged the Clone ranks. He vaulted debris and somersaulted over crates and barricades. As he twisted and flexed, the solid portions of his armor slid and adjusted along with him, revealing a sinuous metal weave beneath. This was the secret of his armor. It was designed to be solid, but also to bend and contort to allow his every move to be seamless and fluid. A special synthetic beskar alloy comprised the base of his armor, pure songsteel plating overlaying it and fashioned in such a way that it could move and slide when necessary, while still blocking and deflecting every shot that came his way.
It was working beautifully.
Wraith was losing count of the number of shots that struck him, only to do nothing and dissipate into smoke and sparks. He cackled with delight.
"YES! This is perfect! I am invincible!" He roared, surging towards the nearest Clones, who continued to fire despite doing absolutely nothing to him. "I am a battlefield god!" Wraith cried, delighted by his situation. Reaching behind him, Wraith pulled a hilt from over his shoulder and pressed a switch along its edge. One after another, portions of a blade extended out until they locked into place and solidified.
Gone were the arm blades, replaced with two songsteel katanas.
The Clones were swiftly dispatched as his blade carved clean through their necks with an almost musical ringing.
"'I am a battlefield god'? Really, my boy, you should learn to restrain your exclamations, or at least think about them." Scipio mused in crystal-clear clarity through his comms.
"Yeah yeah, sorry. I'm having too much fun." Wraith half-heartedly replied, drawing a second collapsible katana from over his opposite shoulder as he went to town on the hapless Clones. Executing acrobatic duck-and-dodge maneuvers, Wraith sliced and diced his way through the defenders, making absolute mincemeat out of the Republic. Some Clones he beheaded, others he bisected, the rest he relieved of their limbs as well as various portions of their body. Soon enough, chunks of blood-stained armor lay scattered about the ground, blood as common as discarded energy cells. His gunmetal gray armor was sporting a few black scorch marks here and there, but Wraith wasn't counting. He was having way too much fun with his newest tools. "I do so love these upgrades." He remarked.
"Makes the trip to Keldooine all the more worthwhile, doesn't it?" Scipio mused.
"Yeah. You were right Doc, the payoff for a few hours of insane improv was worth it." Wraith agreed.
Standing before the entrance to the facility, the super-soldier held his twin katanas apart, blood dripping down the long blades. Simultaneously, the segmented and collapsed into the hilts before he stowed them on his back, jutting up over his shoulders. Drawing a blaster and shooting the door controls, the twin blast doors were forcibly opened and Wraith entered the communications facility. He was met with no resistance, and the halls appeared empty and abandoned. "A skeleton crew..." Wraith mused. It seemed likely that he had annihilated any and all defenders just now, meaning no one could stop him now. "Perfect." Striding deeper into the facility with long, confident strides, Wraith wound his way through the building until he arrived at another door. Despite the fact he was missing his gauntlet tech, Wraith pulled out a small datapad and plugged it into the door controls, quickly hacking into the system and opening the door with ease. Before him lay a series of large terminals, which, more than likely, were the controls for the communications grid.
It was time for him to go to work.
As he approached the foremost terminal, a voice suddenly filled the room through an internal PA system.
"Attention Separatist invader! I am Armand Isard, Director of Republic intelligence." It announced.
"Skulking somewhere in the shadows... how predictable." Wraith remarked, loud enough to be heard. He continued with his work, not perturbed in the slightest.
"You should be grateful I'm giving you the curtesy of this warning; there will be severe repercussions if you do not stop." Isard warned. Wraith said nothing as he set about his work, plugging specially-designed datachips containing viruses into the communication terminals. They were sleeper software, designed to remain invisible to any trained eye and would only activate upon command, revealing their presence only when it was too late. "Tampering with Republic military equipment is a criminal offence and you shall pay dearly for doing so." Armand continued.
"Whoever you are, I care not what you think of me. Nor will your threats hold any sway over me." Wraith replied, uploading the first of several chips. "I do not fear the Republic's so-called repercussions, nor do I fear you, Director."
"A foolish response from a foolish man." Armand chided. "Know that the Republic's vengeance will be swift and merciless. Your people will have only you to blame for their agony." He swore.
"Tsk tsk tsk, awful cold for a Republic official." Wraith remarked, removing his second datachip. "Who knew they let ice-hearts into such high-ranking positions..." Popping the last datachip into the terminal, and uploading the final piece of the malware, Wraith withdrew his tech and made to leave. "Alright, Director Coward, I'm leaving now. Feel free to come out of hiding." He jeered.
"I am not a coward. I simply know the difference between when to fight and when not to." Armand defiantly responded.
"With your current track record, no wonder the Republic is losing the war." Wraith mused, chuckling to himself as the exit slid open.
"This is far from over, monster!" Armand promised.
"Yes, this is the beginning... of the end." Wraith grimly replied. With that, he was gone.
Emerging from the facility, Wraith walked through the field of carnage he'd created earlier and keyed his comms. "Doc, do me a favor and pull up what we know about 'Armand Isard'." He requested. Scipio got to work immediately.
"Let's see here..." He mused on the other end, scrolling through the associated file. "Director of Republic Intelligence, Director of the Senate Bureau of Intelligence and a member of the Republic's Security and Intelligence Council. A member of Chancellor Palpatine's inner circle," he listed off, "said to be a man who 'knows much but talks little'."
"So he's of no concern then."
"Not necessarily. If he happens to be working side by side with that Commander Thrawn, he could prove to be a very real problem, especially as a director of security." Scipio cautioned.
"So he's a potential problem." Wraith mused, now passing the facility's perimeter. "Something to worry about later."
"Perhaps, but it's always worthwhile to do preparations." Scipio countered. Scientist and super-soldier continued their back and forth dialogue as Wraith made his way back to his ship. Their conversation came to a sudden stop when Wraith discovered a pair of Clones investigating his parked shuttle.
"Give me a sec, Doc. Got some nosy Clones to take care of." He stated, rolling his shoulders.
"Some nice and easy target practice for the new repeater, I presume?" Scipio inquired.
"Nah. I'm gonna give the new slugthrowers a whirl." Withdrawing one of the weapons from its holster on his thigh, Wraith primed it, making no secret of his approach. The clicking of his weaponry aligning swiftly caught the attention of both Clones, who left his shuttle behind and charged him, blasters drawn. With a steady hand, Wraith calmly aimed at the nearest Clone and pulled the trigger. A quick burst of three slugs were spat from the barrel, slamming into and through the Clone's helmet seconds later. Blood sprayed from the wounds as the Clone fell dead, his partner startled by the sudden strike. He was dropped seconds later as two more bursts sent acid-lined slugs tearing through his knees. Forced to the ground and in agony, the Clone was helpless as Wraith changed out weapons and drove a katana clean through his face, giving the blade a twist for good measure. Wrenching his weapon free, Wraith stepped over his latest kill and stowed his katana as he made for his shuttle. "Force almsight, I love all this new tech." He gleefully mused.
"Not a bad setup, is it?" Scipio wondered.
"Not bad at all." Wraith agreed as he entered his ship. Having a seat in front of the controls, Wraith began to power up his craft when Scipio spoke again.
"Would you mind checking on something for us? It'll be on your way back, so..." He wondered.
"Fire away."
"We've lost contact with one of our gun platforms over Sluis Van." Scipio explained. "They were communicating just fine until earlier today. If you could check out the platform, see if everything's alright and let us know, it'd be of service."
"I live to serve." Wraith remarked. Closing up his ship and keying in the eventually hyperspace coordinates, Wraith lifted off and flew away from Praesitlyn. "Heading to Sluis Van." He announced.
Some time later...
The gun platform was tall and conical, identical to the dozens of others over Sluis Van. The main planet of the Sluis Sector, its inhabitants declared their secession from the Republic at the start of the war, becoming a main figure in the Separatist Confederacy. To that extent, droid protection was made available via orbital defense platforms, much like with worlds such as Muunilinst and Serenno. Each was crewed by a vast multitude of droids, each and every one employed in communications, gunnery or command.
Until now, the droids had kept the station in perfect working order, transmitting proper clearance codes and status updates all the time. Now they had suddenly stopped, indicating something was very, very wrong.
Wraith entered the platform via one of its many hangars, his shuttle hovering past squadrons of Nantex-class battle fighters, all of them lined up and ready for droid deployment. He set down near the hangar's exit, bow facing the mag-field, and disembarked his shuttle. It was then that Wraith picked up on something strange.
He could hear nothing.
At first glance, everything appeared to be normal. But Wraith could neither see nor hear any droids or machinery around him. Normally a place like this would be humming with work of all kinds. But now he couldn't hear a thing. It were almost as if the droids had vanished entirely.
He began his search in the nearest corridor to the right of his ship, venturing only a little further inside the gun platform. Wraith poked his head in a few spaces as he moved around. But still, he could find no droids anywhere. Now both curious and a little concerned, Wraith made to try the nearest turbolift. But upon close examination, he discovered that the doors were sealed shut and that the tech was on lockdown. Knowing Separatist station protocols by heart, Wraith determined there were only two possibilities for this occurrence. "Either they were trying to keep someone out and engaged a lockout procedure... or someone overrode the systems and hijacked the subroutines." He observed. Coming to the conclusion that something was indeed wrong, Wraith made a beeline for his shuttle, queing his comms as he did. "Doc, we've got a situation of some kind. It looks like someone has isolated the droids in the upper levels and locked down the turbolift systems." He stated. Anticipating a quick reply... he got none. "Doc?" He repeated. Breaking into a run, Wraith was soon back in the hangar, feverishly attempting to get a message through only to be met with failure. "I'm being jammed," he finally realized, "and maybe the droids are too. Perhaps this whole station is being jammed." Rounding a Nantex fighter, Wraith was deep in thought as he approached his ship. "The last time this happened was-" His sentence went unfinished as a blast of electricity ripped through his body. Trapped in place, the super-soldier growled and roared as he fought past the pain to try and gather his senses.
This had happened before.
His new armor was capable of handling such intensities. Scipio had taken great care in learning from Wraith's Takodana experience and outfitted his armor with a few special extras so he could take more punishment. Because of this, Wraith shrugged off the electrical blasts and managed to throw himself clear of the field, where he shook some focus back into him. "Thank the Force for insulation." He remarked, crawling to his knees. As he did, that's when Wraith distinctly heard the sound of footsteps and someone chuckling.
"Well now, look 'o got all shiny! Buffed out all tha scratches we gave ya?" The person asked. Wraith knew that voice and his head snapped up to see his assailant.
It was Corsair.
"You." Wraith growled, rising to his feet. Corsair blew a puff of smoke, cigarra in hand.
"Not jus' me mate." He answered smugly. From behind him, the crew of mercenaries that made up the Titan Conglomerate appeared, making their presence known as Wraith stood alone against them. Everyone was there; Theris, Cager, Boomstick, Maro, Araa, H-8R, even the 'smash brothers' Block and Stock. Corsair had ensured all the prime members of the Titans were present. "We heard you were up and about so we figahed we'd say 'hi'." The team leader mused, flicking the butt of his cigarra aside. "So," he continued, pulling his custom scatterblaster from behind, "ready for round two?" He wondered with a cocky grin. Wraith rolled his shoulders and quickly analyzed his situation.
It didn't look too good. With his back to open space and a cadre of violent mercenaries between ship, there was no easy way out of this. But with new armor and new weapons, he might be able to stand a chance against them, and prove himself a powerful and unstoppable opponent once more.
Plus... he really wanted to wipe that grin off Corsair's face.
He pounded his open hand with a fist.
"Bring it." He growled.
