When the Bavinyar Defense Force ships opened fire, they did it without warning. Despite that, the Republic fleet managed to escape the initial volley with minimal casualties. Most of its ships were already pulled out of firing range of the Bavinyari ships and most of those on the forward lines had shields raised. Still, when Etahn A'baht saw a flight of E-wing fighters wink out on the tactical holo, he felt a growl of frustration escape his throat.
"What are they doing?" gaped Captain Morano.
"They appear to be attacking," A'baht grumbled.
"That's stupid. That's suicide."
The ship's tactical officer, Corgan, pointed at the holo. "They might be attacking, but they're not moving."
"So are they setting up a blockade?" asked Morano. "They don't have enough ships for that."
"I don't know what they're doing, but we're not going to provoke them. Have all ships pull back."
"Gladly" said Corgan, and he quickly relayed the order to the rest of the task force.
A'baht stalked over to the comm station and said, "Lieutenant, hail the Bavinyari flagship. I doubt they'll answer but we might at least try and learn what the blazes is going on."
"Gladly, sir," the Dresselian said. As soon the message went out, his wrinkled forehead creased deeper.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
"We're getting some automated response. Sir..."
"What is it?"
"Sir, it says the Prime Minister Syne has been killed by New Republic agents."
A'baht staggered; he caught the back of the lieutenant's seat to stay aright. "Killed?"
"Yes, sir. They're declaring all Republic forces enemies of Bavinyar and warning us to keep off the planet."
Killed. A'baht suddenly felt the full weight of his many years. He'd seen many beings from many shorter-lived races wither and die, and many, too, die in combat against the Empire or Yevetha. Jasedei Syne was different; he'd known her since she was a mere teenager and somehow, as she'd progressed into human middle age, she'd remained in his mind's eye still an eager youth determined to do all she could in the name of her brutalized planet, and later her martyred parents.
He didn't believe for a second that Republic assassins had really killed her, but whatever had happened to her, she'd deserved a far better fate than this.
He turned and marched back to the tactical holo, where Morano and Corgan were waiting. So much of Intrepid's crew was new to him, but they had both served under A'baht on this very same bridge seven years ago during the Yevethan crisis. They knew how to handle themselves when the fighting got ugly, and he was glad for that. He had a feeling he'd be glad for little else when this day was over.
"We heard, sir," Morano said. "Should we hold this line?"
"No. They said all Republic forces must stay off Bavinyar. Captain, we already have people there, including a half-dozen Jedi and our Defense Minister."
"Then we attack?"
A'baht looked one more time at the string of hostile red lights strung across that tactical holo. "We'll do everything we can to protect our people," he said, "Even if we have to punch through that line."
-{}-
Behn-Kihl-Nahm didn't need the Force to tell him things were getting bad. Even with the total communications blackout around the New Republic consulate, the fact that they'd heard nothing in the hours since Gavrisom's departure could only be a bad thing. Knowing it was annoying, he kept on asking Tresk Im'nel if he was feeling anything in the Force that might tell them what was going on in orbit, and again and again Im'nel shook his furry head and kept his long face in a consternated scowl.
Then, finally, without Behn-Kihl-Nahm even asking, Im'nel said, "It's started."
"You mean the fighting?" Behn-Kihl-Nahm pointed to the ceiling and the stars far beyond.
The Bothan Jedi took a deep, labored breath. "They're dying up there. I can feel it."
Both beings looked to the door of their chamber, as if expecting BDF forced to march in guns-blazing at any minute. Behn-Kihl-Nahm said, with more assurance than he felt, "They won't execute us out of hand. They'll destroy their last bargaining chips."
"That's assuming they care about such things," Im'nel said gruffly. He tugged Behn-Kihl-Nahm's sleeve and started leading him to the far side of the room's long dining table, near the window that looked out the adjacent towers of Cephalia's skyline.
"What are you doing?" Behn-Kihl-Nahm asked.
"Defending ourselves the best we can." Im'nel made a gesture with one paw, and the long table seemed to flip over on its own. Light-holders clattered to the floor as its top fell sideways, creating a waist-high vertical barrier between them and the door.
"It's not much, but it's the best we can do for when they come," the Bothan Jedi said.
"When? Have you felt that too?"
Im'nel nodded gravely. "Someone very determined is coming. A group of them."
"Are they here? In this building?"
"And getting closer. Keep your head down, Minister."
Behn-Kihl-Nahm crouched down behind the table. "Are you certain? I can't believe Syne would just execute us."
"It may not be up to Syne any more." Im'nel plucked his lightsaber off his hip and ignited it. The blazing blade stretched toward the ceiling.
Behn-Kihl-Nahm couldn't believe it was about to end like this, gunned down while cowering behind a table in his own home city. Worse yet, he'd died a failure, a Cerean who'd been so preoccupied with galactic politics that he'd let his own home tear itself apart.
Self-loathing or self-pity, whichever it was, vanished when the door exploded. Smoke filled the room and blaster-bolts sliced through the smoke. Behn-Kihl-Nahm cowered down, doing his best to keep his cone-shaped head behind the barrier, all the while wondering if the damned table would protect them at all.
Over his head, Tresk Im'nel spun his lightsaber, skillfully deflecting bolt after bolt back at their attackers. Behn-Kihl-Nahm didn't dare peek over the table's edge to try and see their attackers, but he was sure that they must have taken cover behind the door-frame. Im'nel seemed to be battling them back now, but he'd only get more tired, and they could only bring in more troops.
Beneath the tang of laserfire and the thrum of the lightsaber, Behn-Kihl-Nahm heard something else. It sounded like the whine of spacecraft engines. The entire room seemed to tremble, and he looked out the window just in time to see the engine-flare of some starship as it sidled against the consulate tower, right on level with their room.
There was no helping them now. He wanted to shout something to Im'nel, he hasn't sure what; maybe just thank you.
Then the Bothan shut off his lightsaber and dropped to the floor, pinning Behn-Kihl-Nahm beneath him. The window shattered, spraying glass over them. Two bodies sprung into the room and Behn-Kihl-Nahm realized in shock that he heard two more lightsabers blazing.
Im'nel sprung to his feet and jumped over the table. Behn-Kihl-Nahm brushed the glass shards off his clothes and peeked over the table-to to see the Bothan Jedi join two more- a Mon Calamari and a black-haired human. Together, the three of them made short work of the BDF attackers. Behn-Kihl-Nahm couldn't help but admire the grace with which the Jedi snapped the barrels off of blaster-rifles and dropped armored soldiers with well-placed elbows and knees and nudges of the Force.
When their attackers were finally all down, wounded but alive, the three Jedi turned to Behn-Kihl-Nahm. The human said, "Minister, come with us. We'll get you out of here."
Behn-Kihl-Nahm was more grateful than he could say, so all he did was nod.
-{}-
It was tricky, keeping an eye on the dark figure walking around the base of the transmitter complex with a rifle in both arms, while also trying to watch the crouched, even darker figure of Rev Lessex as he waited for Aryon Ven's signal. There were still too many things that could go wrong, but at least they had the signal worked out. She only hoped than when she got her one shot at that guard, it would fly true.
When the signal came she saw it clearly; two arms waving in the dark. She shifted her focus to the guard as she counted in her head, one, two, three, four.
Then she heard the sharp tang of a stung-shot being fired on the far side of the transmission complex. No point in counting to five. She squeezed the trigger and the stun bolt from her pistol slipped through the vertical slats of the security fence. It cut straight and caught the guard in the chest. She heard a muffled groan, then watched as he dropped his weapon and fell to the duracrete platform.
She waited, pistol still pressed against the fence, blood pounding in her ears, waiting for some signal from Ven, or worse, for some third guard she'd missed to come running out.
She saw a figure crawl up onto the platform on the other end and flash his light twice in her direction. Asyr stood, waved, and began to work her way around to the opposite side of the platform, where Ven had broken the lock that secured the perimeter fence's sole gate. She stuffed her pistol beneath her belt and climbed onto the platform, where she saw Ven standing at the base of the transmission tower. A second after that spotted Lessex pulling a rifle from beneath a collapsed guard.
"Come on," she hissed, "You won't need that now!"
"I just want to be sure."
Lessex cradled the rifle against his chest as he and Asyr both hurried over to the base of the tower. Ven had pulled open the access hatch and was sliding the data-rod with the recording into the input slot. Light from an overhead panel shone down on them, making Asyr squint and wince.
"Tell me you know how to make it send," Lessex breathed.
Ven bit his lip. "I think so. Where am I supposed to send this to?"
Asyr shouldered close to him and looked over the panel. There was a screen listing the ID transponder codes for a long list of ships in orbit.
"You might as well send it to all of them," she said. "The more people that see this the faster the fighting stops."
"So we hope," muttered Lessex.
"You're right," Ven nodded. "But without context it's just a recording. What do I say?"
"Say the truth. Say it's a recording of a BDF major buying weapons use to kill Pohl-Had-Narr."
"But we don't know that for certain."
She couldn't believe he was getting cold feet now. "It doesn't matter. We'll investigate the rest of it once the fighting stops and get the rest of the proof we need. We'll tie Brenner to the assassination and NRI can find out where this Pedric Cuf got his weapons. But we have to do this now."
"Okay," he nodded. "All right. I'll do it."
The young human reached up and flipped a switch. Two green lights lit up on the panel and he leaned close to a speaker grid.
"Attention all ships," he said, "This is Detective Aryon Ven of the Bavinyar Security Agency. The recording packaged with this transmission depicts the weapons used to kill Pohl-Had-Narr being purchased by Major Brenner of the BDF, assistant to General Harbin Kaice. I repeat, to all ships willing to listen, this recording is proof that rogue elements in the BDF were responsible for murdering Bavinyar's elected prime minister and starting this crisis."
He looked as Asyr, uncertain of what to say next.
She nudged him aside and spoke into the grille, saying, "All ships, this is… This is Asyr Sei'lar of New Republic Intelligence. I've been working with Detective Ven to uncover this information and I can guarantee what he's saying is true. This recording shows high-ranking BDF officers committing treason against their elected government. All BDF captains who are loyal to their planet, not General Kaice, should broadcast surrender notices immediately. I guarantee that you will not be fired upon.
"Once again, all ships should stand down. Once the fighting stops, Detective Ven and I will share all the information we've gained with any interested party. Those who were responsible for Pohl-Had-Narr's assassination will be held accountable. We promise this to all people of Bavinyar."
She couldn't think of a better way to end it. She killed the feed and set it to broadcast in a repeating loop.
All three of them stared at the lit-up panel for a long, long moment before Lessex asked, "Did it work? Is the fighting stopping?"
"I have no idea," Asyr admitted.
"Call the Republic flagship," Ven said. "See what's happening."
Asyr frowned at the list of transponder identifications. "I have no idea which that is," she admitted.
Suddenly another light lit up on the board, marking an incoming call. She stabbed the button beneath it and said, "This is Asyr Sei'lar."
It had been so long since she'd said that out loud; for so long she'd clung to false identities and hid behind false lives. It felt liberating, saying it now, finally.
The being on the other end didn't care about that. A gruff voice said, "This is the carrier Intrepid of the New Republic Fifth Fleet, General Etahn A'baht speaking. We've received your transmission."
"Have the BDF ships gotten it too?" asked Ven.
"I believe so. Several have already broadcast surren-der signals."
"Then it's over?" Asyr asked, breathless.
"Some ships seem intent on fighting, but most haven't declared one way or another and are trying to remove themselves from combat zones. There's also still fighting on the ground."
"We understand, General." Asyr spared a look over her shoulder at Cephalia's city lights down below. She'd heard airships flying overhead but in the dark she couldn't see smoke or signs of damage.
"We're located at the BSA transmission tower halfway up the west face of Cephalia's peak," said Ven. "Can you send a ride for us?"
"We'll get you a pickup," A'baht said. "Thank you for your work, both of you."
"Thank you, General," said Asyr. "I look forward to seeing you soon."
"Likewise," he said. The connection winked out.
Cool breeze washed across the mountainside. Then the air went still and silent. Lessex stepped up to Ven's other shoulder. Still clutching the rifle nervously to his chest, he asked, "Is that it? Is it finally over?"
"Over enough," Ven breathed. "We did our parts."
"Now we just wait for our ride to come." Asyr looked up at the stars. When A'baht's people picked them up she'd have a lot of explaining to do. For what she'd done- impersonating an NRI officer, among other things- she might end up penalized, even in jail. Yet she found she didn't care. After spending so long living a lie, the hard truth felt liberating.
She wondered how Gavin would react, when the truth all came out.
Then she wondered how Fey'lya would. That, at least, brought a smile to her face.
"What about my brother?" Lessex asked, voice suddenly cold. "Will we find him too?"
"Once this is over, I think we will." Ven put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry if it seems like we forgot Javen, but we didn't. I promise we'll find out what happened once Brenner and Kaice are arrested."
"And this Pedric Cuf?" asked Lessex. "Will you find him too?"
"NRI will devote all its resources to finding him," Asyr said.
"Really? So you'll guarantee you'll find them both?"
His voice had taken on a strange tone, almost taunting. Ven narrowed his eyes and asked, "Are you all right, Mr. Lessex?"
Lessex smiled a sickly smile. "You won't find Javen, Detective. You won't find Pedric Cuf either."
"What are you talking about?" Asyr tensed and lowered one paw to the pistol she'd stuck in her belt.
"You won't find them," Lessex repeated. "They don't exist."
Something in his face changed; the pupil of one eye seemed to split apart, and a burst of some black liquid spat from his dark socket into Aryon Ven's face. The detective let out a yelp and brought his head to his hands. Asyr pulled her pistol out from her belt but it was too late; Lessex flipped up his rifle with both hands and shot her once in the chest.
She fell back, vaguely aware that Ven hit the cold permacrete the same time she did. Hot pain spread out from the center of her chest; her vision swam and the tried to focus on the lights still blazing on the console above her. She heard the pang of another rifle-shot, probably into Ven, then saw darkness loom over her.
Every breath felt like fire. Rasping, she asked, "Who…. are…. you?"
The face bent low over hers was not that of Rev Lessex. It looked almost like a human skull, bereft of hair or nostrils, lips, or hair. One eye gazed down and focused on hers; in place of the other was just a dark empty socket.
"You're lucky, you know," the creature said in Lessex's voice. "You won't get to see what comes next."
The world dissolved in darkness and hot pain. She didn't feel lucky at all.
-{}-
Etahn A'baht stood at the front of Intrepid's command deck and watched as, one by one, the Bavinyari warships ceased to fire. At first only a few picket ships had veered away from the combat zone, but once the flagship began broadcasting a surrender notice, the others followed. Within four minutes, the remaining ships in the Bavinyari fleet had all turned off their guns.
A'baht should have felt better about that, but right now it was hard to feel good about anything. He went over to the comm station and asked them to hail the flagship again. This time, to his mild surprise, he got a response.
The head-and-shoulders holo-image of a human man appeared over the console and said, "General A'baht, I've ordered all our ships to stand down."
"They seem to have complied," A'baht said. "Was that broadcast from the planet convincing enough?"
"It… gave us pause, general." The human frowned, then added, "Just before that, we received a report from Cephalia. General Kaice was found dead."
"Dead?"
"Yes. It… seems he was found in Prime Minister Syne's office. Kaice was killed instantly but the Prime Minister was still alive. She's been rushed to a medical center and is currently in critical care." After a pause he added, "It seems both had been shot by the same gun."
A'baht didn't know what that meant and in that moment didn't care. "Are you saying Syne is alive?"
"The last I heard. I've been getting only reports from the ground and things there are… confused."
"I can imagine."
The human swallowed "It seems Major Brenner has also, ah, confessed complicity in some of these actions. Things might become clearer soon."
The weight on A'baht's shoulders lifted a little more. "Thank you, Admiral, for calling the cease-fire. I assure you that whatever crimes Brenner or Kaice may have committed, they do not reflect poorly on you."
"Thank you, General," the human said, though from his shaking voice he didn't sound convinced.
"Stand by for further instructions," A'baht said, and killed the comm line. He marched back to the tactical station, where Morano and Corgan were standing.
"Well?" A'baht asked. "What's the final count?"
"Full casualty reports haven't come in yet, sir," Corgan said, "But given the starfighters and the one Corellian corvette, I'd say we lost at least one hundred beings."
"And the Bavinyari?"
"Rather higher, I imagine."
"Indeed," A'baht grunted. The fighting had been short but fierce, and though the Bavinyari were determined, they had simply been overwhelmed by superior numbers and superior hardware. One of their Carrack cruisers seemed to have been lost with all hands, while the entire forward section of their largest strike cruiser had been shattered by a missile barrage from a full squadron of K-wing bombers.
It was sickening to think that all those dead soldiers had been killed over some lie perpetrated by Kaice and Brenner, but A'baht did not regret his aggressive reaction against the Bavinyari blockade. He'd been certain they'd throw everything they had at him, and for the good of his own soldiers, he'd had no choice but to throw everything he had back.
"What about our teams on the ground?" he asked, "What do they report?"
"The Jedi have recovered Minister Behn-Kihl-Nahm," Morano reported. "No casualties from that team."
More good news. A'baht was tempted to think of this as a victory and had to remind himself otherwise. "What about the operation on Leonal?"
"We just got a call from Colonel Tevfik. He said the remaining CPF surrendered once they learned that Kaice and Syne were dead."
"And the hostages?"
"He reports sixty-three were recovered. As for those killed… He estimates around twenty."
Grim as it was, that could have been a lot worse. "All right. Send them any transports and medical teams they require."
"Already done, sir," said Corgan.
"Send another team to Cephalia. Put them at the disposal of the Bavinyari- whoever's in charge right now- for the express purpose of caring for Prime Minister Syne."
"Gladly."
As Corgan went to work, a young lieutenant slipped up to the tactical station and snapped all three officers a nervous salute.
"Go ahead, Lieutenant Karthy," Morano said.
"Yes, sir." Karthy lowered his hand to his side and looked a little anxiously at A'baht. "We just got word from the pickup team we sent to the Cephalia transmission station."
From his expression, it clearly hadn't gone to plan. "Well, Lieutenant?" asked A'baht.
"When the team arrived, they found four bodies. Two BDF guards, one human BSA officer, and one Bothan."
"The NRI agent," Corgan muttered.
"All dead?" asked Morano.
"Yes, sir. All shot in the chest or head."
"By whom?" asked A'baht.
Karthy shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, sir. They couldn't spot anyone else on the mountain with an aerial search, but it's still night on Cephalia."
"Well send a full team down to investigate at dawn," A'baht said, knowing it would be futile.
"Yes, sir," Karthy snapped another salute and scampered off.
A'baht breathed a very heavy sigh and leaned against the console. Neither Corgan nor Morano tried to disturb him. The flush of victory was gone. Whatever had happened with the BSA detective and NRI agent, they'd never know the whole story, which meant it would be even harder to bring everyone accountable for this fiasco to justice. That Brenner was arrested and Kaice dead didn't solve anything; even Jadesei Syne's survival would not recover any of the good beings who'd given their lives for the sake of peace on Bavinyar and stability in the Republic.
A'baht couldn't shake the knowledge that the ones who'd truly orchestrated this shadow war were still out there somewhere, and wherever they were, whatever their ultimate goals had been, they'd be forever a mystery.
It made what had happened here seem all the worse.