Star Wars: The Old Republic, Part Three: "You Can't Save Everybody"
Author's Notes, Disclaimers, and Attributions:
This fanfiction series is an attempt to combine all eight of the class stories from Star Wars: The Old Republic into a single narrative. I am doing this without particular regard for official canon or timelines – My goal is not to create a definitive article, but simply to fashion the best overarching story I can from the parts Bioware already created. Those who have played the game will observe changes from the source material.
This series directly follows the story/stories of the game itself… So consider that a spoiler warning if you haven't played it. Though I have endeavored not to directly transcribe anything from Wookiepiedia, this work remains indebted to that site for background lore referenced within the story. Further, much material is directly re-used from Star Wars: The Old Republic and its ancillary material. That said, I will not bind myself to either the "correct lore" or the exact characters and events of the game if it conflicts with what I regard as the best direction for my story.
There won't be any particular schedule for updates, as this project is being done "for fun" around other work and projects. Each update, when it is posted, will be treated as if it was an "episode" of an ongoing series – When an update appears, it will have its own internal narrative structure, so each update will have a degree of resolution in itself.
The standard disclaimers apply: All Star Wars material is property of Walt Disney and Lucasfilm. Star Wars: The Old Republic is a property of BioWare and EA. This is all just for fun; no copyright infringement is intended.
A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY…
STAR WARS
The Old Republic – Episode Three
"YOU CAN'T SAVE EVERYBODY"
Anarchy rules in the frontier systems. While
the GALACTIC REPUBLIC struggles to
recover from its conflict with the SITH
EMPIRE, reckless mercenaries make their
fortunes from the interstellar turmoil.
On the planet ORD MANTELL, civil war
erupts between loyal Republic citizens and
violent separatists. Republic forces struggle
to restore peace to the war-ravaged world,
while free traders find opportunities to
exploit the chaos for profit.
Now a daring captain-for-hire has come to
deliver a cargo of weapons to the combat
zone, flying a swift freighter through a
barrage of separatist attacks…
Chapter One: Honor Among Thieves
"Why would anyone fight over this dump?"
Mira Kahl emerged from the Siren and to take her first real look at the planet's surface. The so-called "bright jewel" of the Republic. To her, it looked like a ball of dirt and dust.
"Same reason anyone fights over anything. Because there's money to be made."
The first thing she noted about the man greeting her was the tattoo that covered the left half of his face. The second was the swagger with which he held himself. The man was lean, handsome in a sleazy way, and to his credit owned it.
"You must be Skavak," she said, extending her hand. "Viidu told me to expect you."
Skavak took her hand with a grin. She had to snatch it away to stop him from lifting it to his lips.
He gave an elaborate bow instead. "It's a pleasure to meet the legendary Mirana Kahl."
Mira rolled her eyes. "Some legend."
"Oh, come on! You were there when the Empire came to Korriban. You flew the Jedi Grandmaster right through the Imperial invasion force."
"She wasn't the Jedi Grandmaster then," Mira told him. "Just a scared girl, running for her life. We all were. We lived, thanks to the Siren here, but there's not much glory in that. Not much profit, either."
She heard fighting in the distance. The separatists were getting bold, if they were coming this close to the Fort.
Skavak read her expression. "The Republic's losing ground," he confirmed. "At the start, the people here just thought of the separatists as troublemakers and crazy people. The Republic promised to stamp them out in a week. That was six months ago, and with each passing week more and more people start sympathizing with those troublemakers. If the Senate doesn't send a proper force in, we're going to lose this planet."
Mira scoffed. "The Senate actually do anything?"
Skavak laughed in agreement.
"I'd have loved seeing Viidu again," she said, "but I don't fancy hanging around a war zone."
"Gotcha," Skavak replied. "Viidu's already transferred your payment. You can take off just as soon as we've offloaded these blasters."
Mira winced as he identified this as a weapons run. "Cargo," she emphasized. You could never be sure who might be listening.
Skavak shrugged. "The cargo, right. With your permission?" He jerked his head toward her ship.
"Be my guest."
He turned to go up the Siren's entry ramp. She followed him, showing him the hidden compartments holding the crates of weapons.
They had only unloaded the first two boxes when a heavily muscled young man came running into the hangar, his eyes as wild as his hair.
"Skavak! Skavak!"
"Whoa, Corso," Skavak raises his hands in a calming motion. "Slow down, big guy. Use your words."
Corso gasped for breath.
"The separatists," he said. "They've taken control of the air cannon, hijacked the targeting computer. I just saw an incoming Republic transport go down!"
Skavak's expression grew serious.
"They can turn that firepower against us anytime they want," he said. "Bad news for you too, captain. You can forget about taking off. The separatists will blast you right out of the sky."
Mira let out a cry of pure frustration. Trapped on this backwater rock, with some type of guerrilla force closing in?
"Not going to happen," she snapped. "Tell me exactly where the targeting computer is."
Sergeant Cress Va'shann, newly promoted and newly transferred to HAVOC Squad, had been on Ord Mantell for less than an hour. He already didn't like it.
There was nothing wrong with the company, he had to admit. He had been met at the landing zone by Lieutenant Bex Kolos, a beefy man with greeted him with a friendly smile.
"Welcome to the bantha pile, kid," Kolos said. "Hope you weren't looking forward to a chance to ease in. We're in the middle of a situation."
Cress could hear the sound of blaster fire. It was growing closer. "I'm noticing that, Lieutenant."
"Call me Gearbox. Everybody does." The big man led him to a Republic Walker. "At least we're traveling in style," he said with a grin.
As the Walker transported them, Cress could hear the gunfire surrounding them. Every so often, there was a light "thunk" as the Walker's armor deflected it. Gearbox was unconcerned. "It'll take a lot more than blasters to pierce this thing's armor," he grunted.
He brought Cress up to speed.
"According to the Senate, the seps are just a band of discontents – a handful of farmers who got riled up by outside agitators. In case you haven't figured it out, that's bantha dung. The separatists are everywhere. When a local smiles at you and sells you snacks or trinkets – Odds are better than 50/50 that if they aren't a sep themselves, they know some seps."
"So it's a mess."
"Yup," Gearbox said. "We're damned whatever we do. We don't act, separatist bombs go off and the people hate us for doing nothing. We track down separatists in the towns and villages, we end up arresting friends and family, and people hate us for that. No matter what, we're the bad guys – Which is exactly what the seps want."
"You said there was a situation," Cress pointed out. "I'm guessing you weren't talking about the quagmire. What happened?"
Gearbox grunted. "Seps downed a Republic transport just before you landed," he said. "Nabbed a bomb. A serious bomb, one of those orbital strike numbers. It goes off, this whole island ends up being one big crater."
Cress was incredulous. "How could separatists have gotten that kind of hardware? How could they have downed a transport to begin with?"
"Like I said," Gearbox replied. "There's a lot more to this than just angry farmers. The commander'll give a full op briefing once we reach Fort Garnik. Until then, just sit back and enjoy – "
There was an explosion. The Walker stopped dead, and the metal walls and floor shook around the two men.
The Walker's PA activated, and the driver's panicked voice called out: "Code Red! Code Red! We've been hit by an AP missile! A shoulder-launcher from somewhere in the village! Hold on, I'm reading a weapons lock – "
Another explosion. The metal around them groaned for several seconds. Then the Walker collapsed to the ground.
Cress covered his head to protect it from potential impact. His shoulder struck metal. It hurt, but he was uninjured. Gearbox, however, struck his head. He was struggling to stand when Cress reached him.
"Stay down," Cress told him. "You could have a concussion."
Gearbox grunted in frustration. "Backwater separatists aren't supposed to have armor-piercing missiles," he snapped. "They'll tear up every convoy that passes through."
"How did Intel miss this?" Cress wondered.
Gearbox let out a short laugh. "I'll be sure to file a complaint, if we live long enough to see the Fort."
Gearbox tried to raise the base on his wrist communicator. No luck.
"They're jamming us," he said. "Probably also from inside that village. We've gotta get in there. Disable the jammers so we can talk to Fort Garnik. They'll have to be in the village square – The communications antennas are the only things that would send a signal over this distance."
He tried to rise again. His dark skin took on a greenish tint, and he sat right back down again.
"You stay here," Cress told him. "I'll get into that village a lot more easily on my own."
Gearbox nodded ruefully. "Sorry, kid."
Cress grinned sardonically at him.
"Like Captain Tavus said – 'Welcome to HAVOC Squad.' "
A squadron had already been deployed to the village, but they had immediately become stuck at the perimeter. Rules of engagement meant the Troopers could only fire upon targets that were definitely armed and hostile, which meant that going in with heavy weapons was strictly forbidden. Meanwhile, the separatists rained fire on the troops from behind cover.
"Completely FUBAR," the squadron's sergeant complained to Cress. "We're reduced to taking potshots when one of the seps is stupid enough to wander out from cover."
Thankfully, the separatists lacked training and marksmanship, and the Troopers had been able to improvise cover and avoid casualties. It remained an untenable situation, though.
"If I don't get new orders that let me actually do something," the sergeant said, "I'm going to order my soldiers back. I'm not risking their lives for no reason."
Cress asked the sergeant for a distraction – a brief attempted assault on one of the settlement's low walls. "Just enough to draw their attention for a few minutes," he said. "Enough to let me slip past the perimeter."
"I can't send anyone in after you," the sergeant warned.
"Understood."
The sergeant was happy at the prospect of actually accomplishing something, and quickly assigned a half dozen of his men to stage an assault on the east wall. Just a few explosive grenades and a bit of fire aimed directly at the wall. Enough to make noise, but not enough to risk any believable claim of "civilian casualties."
As soon as he heard the grenades, Cress vaulted the west wall, opposite the diversion. He landed on a concrete street - directly on his bruised shoulder, of course. He grunted at the pain, but still rolled back onto his feet in a single movement. He darted into cover between two buildings, and began picking his way toward the village square.
Mira's eyes scanned the village square. The cannon was easy to find – She wasn't exactly going to miss the giant gun that was firing at everything in the sky. But the gun itself wasn't her goal.
If I was a targeting computer, where would I be?
She heard the Troopers' pretend assault on the east wall. She recognized it as a feint. If the Republic soldiers were truly intent on breaching, they would roll up in armored vehicles and obliterate the wall, along with the structures adjoining it.
The diversion was useful, however. Most of the armed separatists ran toward the sounds. They only stayed put in one place - outside a building in the square.
Gotcha.
She was considering her options for approaching. She could pretend to be a villager, but they would turn her away. A separatist would be a better disguise, but even these yokels would have some kind of password or entry code for anyone authorized to go near the computer. Then there was the question of what she would do once she got inside. She was hardly equipped to fight a war.
That's when she saw the Trooper.
A Twi'lek, in full battle armor, moving around the edge of the square. His presence was doubtless the reason for all the noise at the opposite wall. Mira studied him as he darted from cover to cover, moving toward the antennas at each corner.
He planted something at his first target, then rolled away. An explosion engulfed it a moment later, and the antenna collapsed, bisecting a statue as it fell. Jammers, she realized. The separatists were using the antennas to jam communications, crippling the Republic's operations.
The separatists guarding the targeting computer stared, mouths agape, at the fallen antenna. They did not see the Trooper, who stayed carefully behind cover as he reached his second target.
He was exposed after the second one blew, however. The Trooper's back was turned, and he did not notice as one separatist raised his blaster rifle and leveled it at his head.
Cress jumped when he heard the blaster. He turned, and saw a body collapse near a government building. Two other armed men were aiming their blasters – Not at him, but around the square, searching for an unseen target.
Another blaster bolt. Another man fell. Two more men spilled out of the building. They had found their target and were firing. Still not at Cress, but at a human woman.
She was trim, one side or another of forty, with close-cropped red hair. She was tucked in behind a concrete barrier, her expression clearly showing that she would have liked to have been anywhere else at all.
Cress pulled out his assault rifle. It hummed as it charged, then sprayed a gusher of blaster bolts. The men by the building collapsed.
He moved to the woman, who was trembling. "Are you hit?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so." Her voice shook, but she seemed coherent as she checked herself over. "Sorry. Not used to being under fire."
"What are you doing out here?" he demanded. "Civilians should be in their homes, doors locked, under as much cover as possible."
"Well, if I did all that, I wouldn't have been able to save your life," she retorted. "While you were setting your charges, those men were drawing down on you."
Cress was startled. He had been careful to stay behind cover. He gauged the government building, however. At an angle, a few feet from the door, he would have been visible. And there was a corpse right at the ideal spot.
"Mira Kahl," the woman introduced herself. "My ship is grounded because of that big gun. Want to help me take it down?"
Cress hesitated. "How do I know you're not a separatist?"
The sound of activity told them the remaining separatists were coming back their way.
"You'd be dead if I was," she pointed out. "And I think we're running out of time for arguments. Give me the explosives and cover me while I blow those last antennas. Then we'll take care of the gun."
Cress handed her the explosives. She flashed him a grin, then disappeared into the smoke as he charged his assault rifle, waiting for new targets.
The rest of the plan went like clockwork. It took Mira a little over a minute to blow the remaining antennas, while Cress and his assault rifle held the separatists at bay. They reunited at the entrance to the building. Cress threw a grenade inside. He didn't activate it; he just used it to flush out the separatists still in hiding. He and Mira picked them off as they fled into the open. Then he calmly recovered the grenade and clipped it back to his belt.
He watched the entrance as Mira went in search of the targeting computer. She found it upstairs, in a secure room marked by a sign stating, "RESTRICTED ACCESS." A panel limited access to card holders. She shot the panel, then pulled a knife out of her pocket and stripped the wires inside. She connected a black and green wire, smiling with satisfaction as the door clicked open.
She had no idea how to deactivate the cannon's targeting computer, and from the sound of Cress's assault rifle, she guessed they had limited time to act. She raised her blaster and shot the computer repeatedly until every one of its lights went dead. Based on the silence from the cannon, she guessed that had done the trick.
She returned to the entrance, flashing a grin to the soldier.
"Let's move," she said.
The smoke from the explosions in the square helped obscure their movements. Mira followed Cress's lead in staying behind cover. They worked their way to the west wall, where Cress helped her over before vaulting over himself.
The Republic sergeant met them near the wall. He was grinning like a child opening a Life Day present.
"The seps are surrendering," he crowed. "Apparently, they think a Republic army got inside."
"We aim to please," Mira said.
The sergeant looked at her, startled. Cress introduced her.
"She provided invaluable assistance," he said.
She snorted. "I saved your big blue ass."
"That too," he agreed.
He punched up his wrist communicator. Gearbox's visage appeared.
"Good job with comms," he told Cress. "I'm clearing out the Walker, spiking what I can't carry so the seps won't use it on us later. I'll meet you at Fort Garnik."
"I should come back to you," Cress protested. "Your head – "
"I'll be fine, kid. I'm not exactly new at this. The commander wants you at the Fort ASAP, and what he says, goes." Gearbox disconnected.
Cress sighed, shrugged at Mira. "Want an escort to Fort Garnik?"
She shook her head firmly.
"The only thing I want is to get on my ship and get off this rock."
Cress escorted her back to the hangar. She did not argue. The experience of being pinned down by separatists left her quite content to be in the company of a man with a very big gun.
When she stepped inside, she knew immediately that something was wrong. She looked around, saw Corso lying on the ground. He was clutching his head, moaning pitifully. Skavak was nowhere to be seen.
A familiar sound came from outside. Engines starting. The Siren's engines.
"No!" Mira shouted.
She ran out of the building, toward her ship.
"No, no, no!"
The Siren rose straight up into the sky. It hung in the air, almost seeming to mock her with its proximity. Then it took off, disappearing into the distance.
She ran back inside, where Cress was bandaging Corso's head.
"Feels like a gundark used my head for a drum," Corso groaned.
"Just hard knock," Cress told her. "No sign of brain injury, though a medic should check him out to be safe."
"What happened?" Mira demanded.
"Skavak," Corso replied. "He had me load the weapons back on your ship. To keep them away from the seps, he said. Then, when my back was turned, he whacked me with a wrench!" He reached for his gunbelt. His hand froze as he found nothing. "Where's Torchy?" he cried. "Skavak stole my blaster!"
"Forget your blaster!" Mira snapped. "The scum stole my ship!"
"Torchy's a genuine BlasTech ALT-25, with magnatomic adhesion grip and side-mounted rangefinder!" Corso protested. He ran to the communications panel against the wall, jabbing buttons with fury.
"Come on!" he snapped. "Pick up, damn you!"
Skavak's face appeared before them. He was in the Siren's cockpit. His feet were up on the control panel, and he was grinning. "What's the matter, Corso?" he sneered. "Did I hurt your feelings? Be grateful you're still alive, meathead."
Mira stepped into view.
"You are dead, Skavak," she said flatly. "I will hunt you down and personally drop you into a black hole!"
Skavak laughed. "A lot of women want me dead, Captain. You'll just have to get in line." He pulled his feet off the control panel and adopted an expression of exaggerated seriousness. "On behalf of Ord Mantell's glorious freedom fighters, I would like to thank you for your blasters, for your ship, and – most of all – for a big laugh. Have a nice day."
He gave them a friendly wave as he ended the call.
Corso sighed. "He always was good at making an exit."
Mira began to pace, pushing her brain to think of something to do next.
"Viidu," she said at last. "He might know where Skavak went."
"He's at Fort Garnik," Corso replied. "About a half hour's hike from here."
"Viidu's operating out of a Republic military base?" Mira laughed in spite of herself.
"Your average Trooper would sell his grandmother for ten credits," he said. Then he remembered Cress. "Ah, no offense, sergeant."
Cress shrugged. "It's true enough," he admitted.
Mira smiled at the Trooper.
"So, Sergeant, about that escort. Is the offer still good?"