The sky was unlike any other that day. The star seemed darker, like a veil had been drawn over it. Qua'all Village was filled with silence, the streets so quiet one could hear a pin drop. The Twi'leks living there knew why the Republic had returned, and all hid indoors to avoid whatever retribution came their way. Lights were out in every home, but only one seemed to have life dwelling within.

A Twi'lek, whose skin seemed to glow with an orange hue, shoved his belongings into the nearest pack he could find. "Hurry, honey!" he snapped at his green-skinned spouse in as quiet a voice as he could manage while reaching for his possessions. He continued to shuffle about his belongings, all the while keeping one hand to the blaster at his hip. Little time remained, but a small part of him believed he would be fast enough, sly enough to avoid retribution for his actions. Killing Ryloth's senator had been a necessary sacrifice to achieve the autonomy his people deserved, at least in his mind. Footsteps rang in his ears, and he turned with his blaster in hand. His eyes filled with regret when he found himself aiming at his family. He was quick to lower the blaster, sorrow in his eyes as he tried to apologize. His tongue slipped just as the wall to his left cracked. What followed was an explosion that took the man off his feet, with his wife pulling their daughter to the corner of the room.

Stepping through the wall was a soldier drenched in white. He looked the part of a clone, though his armor was a rare breed. Orange marks lined his helmet, chest, and arms. When the soldier spoke, his voice appeared dark, malignant, like it was the helmet that turned him from man to beast. "Cham Syndulla: murderer, conspirator, and traitor. Will you come quietly, or will this get ugly?" Behind the soldier stood three others, their armor alike save for markings of green, yellow, and red.

Syndulla looked from the soldier to his family, saw the fear in his daughter's eyes, and sighed. "I'll come quietly," he said, and slowly set his blaster on the ground.

The lead soldier yanked Syndulla off the ground by his shoulder before binding his wrists behind his back. The soldier spared a final look at the man's family before marching out of the home with his prisoner in hand. The others filed out behind him. Once outside, the soldier gave Syndulla over to his team while he opened his holoprojector. The image of a clone appeared, one whose armor was as bland as they came. "Advisor, we have the target. Requesting extraction."

"Confirmed, Delta. You're being redirected to extraction at Thermonai Pass," the advisor said, fingers to his helmet as he communicated.

"That's several klicks away," the soldier replied, unnerved by the sudden setback.

The advisor looked down for a moment before shaking his head lightly. "I'm aware, but it's the only extraction point left in your region. The whole corps is evacuating, and much of the planet has become a dark zone."

The soldier tilted his head back for a fraction of a second, shock filling the void between his eyes and helmet. "Did you say dark zone?"

"Have you not looked outside?" the advisor asked. "An alien fleet of unknown origin came through hyperspace about an hour ago. They've already taken the southern hemisphere, and are landing troops en masse."

"Do we know their strength?"

"Destroyers, frigates, corvettes. You name it, they brought it." The advisor looked down again before his tone suddenly shifted. "It's not looking good. I advise you make haste, Boss."

"Copy," the commando replied before terminating communications, and looked to his team. "We're headed to Thermonai Pass."

The commando in gray and yellow armor seemed the most annoyed. "That's at least three klicks away."

"Then we'd better get moving, Scorch," the one with green markings said as he nudged the clone's armor.

"I suppose, Fixer," Scorch sighed before looking back at the final member of their party. "You get to drag the prisoner this time, Sev."

"What fun," remarked the clone whose armor was lined with red, and shoved Syndulla forward as they began to move.

It was not until the group arrived at the hills overlooking Qua'all that they understood what their advisor had been preaching. Smoke and flames poured upward into the sky as fires spread across the southern landscape. Large, animalistic ships carved through the clouds, and what Republic ships remained in atmosphere plummeted to the surface in balls of fire. Far off battles could now be heard, and it became apparent the men needed to move faster. Boss looked to the tree line, ready to proceed when Syndulla suddenly spoke up.

"Wait!" the man blurted out, his eyes desperate as he tried to read Boss for some sort of expression. "My family, please take them with us."

"They're not our priority," Boss replied, staring through his emotionless helm at the manic figure before him.

"My planet is dying!" Syndulla shouted. "Do you not see genocide happening before your eyes?! Please, help my village."

Sev scoffed at the notion. "We don't have time for this."

Scorch, however, looked to the fires and understood. "We saved you once didn't we, Sev?" he commented before looking at his fellow brother. "Against orders, I might add."

"This is different," Sev argued. "They're not—"

"They're all I have left!" Syndulla pleaded, eyes wide as his teeth clenched. He was ready to shove against Sev in an effort to escape. He cared little about dying in that moment so long as his family lived. However, he found there was no reason to resist.

Boss looked to Scorch and Fixer. "Bring the people out of their homes. We'll meet at the pass," he ordered the men before turning to the trees with Sev and their prisoner. The team of commandos appeared rather calm as fire rained from the sky.

#

Lieutenant Boil stood among munitions and bustling troopers as their gunships touched down for evacuation. Many of his soldiers carried stacks of rifles as they stepped toward the ships, with others hauling crates and turrets that needed to be loaded up. Boil directed those without tasks to aid those who did, and was about to call for his outlying troops to return when he received word of vital assets approaching from the southern end of the pass. Looking out, he spotted a pair of commandos drawing near with a prisoner in tow.

"About time," he grumbled under his breath as he stepped forward. "I see you got him," he said in a louder voice, as the commandos were a hundred feet off from him.

"Always do," Boss replied.

Boil cocked his head when he never saw the other commandos arrive, and asked where they could have gone off to when Boss was within a few paces of him.

"Well…" Boss began to say, knowing his answer was not the one any would want to hear. "Our prisoner begged us to help his village, so they're gathering them for evacuation."

"Evacuation?!" Boil nearly blew the helmet off his head. "My orders are to get these troops back to the fleet, and you want us to wait on civilians?"

"You saw the fires, didn't you?" Boss replied. "This whole planet will be burning by sundown."

"And you thought you'd play hero with civies," Boil scoffed. "Never thought commandos to be emotional."

It was then Syndulla raised his voice. "These people are my family. Surely you understand," he uttered, hoping to find some hint of sympathy in the clone's demeanor.

Boil looked at the prisoner for a moment, as if pondering their options, then returned his gaze to Boss. "Well, how many civilians are there?"

The sound of bodies brushing against the trunks of trees caused the group to turn, and what the saw brought unease to Boil's stomach. Passing through the barren trees of the pass were several hundred civilians, all accompanied by the remainder of Delta Squad.

"That's… a lot," Boil uttered, a hand to his helmet while he tried to think the situation through. "This doesn't seem like a good idea. My orders are—"

"These are lives we're talking about," Syndulla spoke up. "Would you rather leave us to the charred earth?"

Boil cocked his head, as if he was about to answer yes, when he spotted a familiar figure amongst the group of Twi'leks. It was a young girl in her teens with teal skin, a girl Boil knew from a war that felt like a distant memory by then. "Numa?" he said weakly, when the girl disappeared among the sea of Twi'leks. Buried memories were undug in that moment, and Boil pointed to the gunships. "I'm sure we can figure something out for these people."

It was then Sergeant Crys approached the lieutenant, his armor marked with three stripes that ran down his helmet, and a chest plate half-drenched in orange. "The men are ready to get out of here, sir," he reported to Boil.

"Change of plans," Boil replied as he turned to face his brother. "We've got some civilians to evacuate."

Crys was taken aback, and looked from the people to the gunships, then back again. "Sir, there's only enough room for the men. We can't fit everyone aboard the gunships."

"We'll get more," Boil said, thinking on his feet.

Crys shook his head. "Evac teams are stretched thin. This is all we're getting."

"Then we'll send the civilians up and have the ships return for us," Boil suggested.

Crys tilted his head, like he was going to ask if the lieutenant was being serious. "I understand the dilemma, sir, but the general wants everyone off Ryloth as soon as possible. When last we checked, the situation was grim."

"What're you saying?" Boil uttered, taking a step closer to the man is if presenting a challenge.

"I'm saying once the gunships take off, they're not coming back," Crys put it simply.

Boil needed time to think, but there was no time to give. Explosions were heard from behind, and the men turned to see fires drawing ever closer. They could see a Venator burning through the atmosphere, smoking from all decks as enemy frigates pierced the sky. The marching of feet could be heard from beyond, and from the echoes, Boil knew someone had entered the pass.

"Sounds like we have company," Boss remarked, his eyes turning to the southern end of the pass.

Without thinking, Boil jabbed a finger toward the gunships. "Get the civilians onboard."

Crys cocked his head. "Are you sure, sir?"

Boil glared at the man through his visor. "You heard me. Unload the shields and ordnance."

Crys nodded before taking off toward the gunships. Within minutes, Boil was flanked by troopers on either side as the Twi'leks filed into the ships. Turrets were lugged off the vessels to make room, and heavy weapons were distributed to those who needed them. Three commando teams were there with Boil's men: Bravo, Charlie, and Gamma. They had been packing up when they heard his orders, and came to his side with rifles in hand. Delta Squad joined the small army as well, when Boil suddenly turned to them.

"Boss, I want your team on those gunships," he ordered. Boss had some unseen expression on his face as he looked to the lieutenant, about to protest when Boil raised a hand. "Cody'd kill me if he knew I had you stay behind. You're too important." Scorch was about to speak up, but Boil again intervened. "This is an order, Deltas. Get out of here."

The four men nodded before turning toward the gunships. Boss had moved five paces when he abruptly stopped, his head tilting ever-so-slightly back to the lieutenant. "We'll send them back for you."

Boil thanked him half-heartedly. They could all see the sky falling, and knew there was only one outcome to be had from such an apocalypse. Still, Boil appreciated the gesture, and for the briefest of moments thought perhaps salvation would come for them on that day, when the firing of engines stilled his heart of hope. The gunships took to the sky just as the marching of feet became boisterous, and Boil knew whoever approached was just around the bend. He quickly got to work, organizing the men as he saw fit. While handing out equipment, he looked to Crys for a status report.

"We've got three hundred men, sir," Crys stated, datapad in hand as he cycled through their munitions. "Two heavy turrets, a few dozen riot shields, and several rotaries."

"Distribute the shields to our vanguard, have them blockade the pass," Boil instructed. "I want commandos at their backs, with another line of men to keep the fight contained. Keep the turrets at the rear, a hundred paces from the vanguard. When the shield wall is breached, we'll make our stand there."

Several troopers had approached on Boil's right as he spoke to Crys. "Reporting for duty, sir," came the eager voice of the nearest clone, as if unaware of their dire situation.

"I want you atop the rock wall to the east," Boil ordered. "Assume sniper position, and don't move. Am I understood, Wooley?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the clone replied with a salute before moving to the rock wall, rifle in hand. Two others went with him.

With the weapons divvied up, and troops in position, Boil calmed his mind as he took a deep breath. The temperature was moderate for a midsummer day, the wind gentle as it surged up from the south, carrying whispers of smoke and ash as it blew. Then, the sounds of thunder came, only there was no storm in sight. Only the marching footsteps of an army rounding the corner of the pass, viperous amphistaffs held in the hands of most warriors as they drew close. By then the front line of clones had formed a shield wall, their bodies hunkered down beneath the metal to protect them from whatever projectiles came their way. Their line stretched from one end of the narrow pass to the other. Boil came to stand just behind the line, his back straight as a nail while he eyed the enemy. He clung tightly to his blaster as he watched their advance grind to a halt thirty feet from the line of clones.

Their numbers were as vast as the pebbles of sand on a beach, stretching far out of sight. The Vong stood at attention, amphistaffs as vertical as their bodies as they held position a short distance from the three hundred. Silence. Save for the gritting of dagger-like teeth, the Vong made no attempt to advance. Instead, the middle of their formation parted for another of their race to come forward on the back of an atrokin. The insect-like creature was as tall as a man, with six legs beneath its ant-shaped body. The creature snapped its horizontal jaws at the clones, its ten red eyes looking in all directions as its rider held out a Republic helmet. The Vong rider had the look of a gleeful killer as he dangled the helm before the clones, when blood began to drip out its bottom. More liquid spilled forth, until finally a head fell from the helm to smack against the ground, its wide eyes frozen in time.

The rider unhinged his jaws as he roared at the clones. "Join your brother, heretics!" He raised his staff to the burning sky. "Let your souls be consumed by Yun-Yuuzhan, God of All!"

Boil was unmoved, his posture unyielding in stern defiance as he stared down the rider.

The Vong's expression turned to one of malice as he snarled in the clone's direction, when a shimmer of light appeared on a rock wall to his right. The flash was followed by an eruption of noise, and the rider thrown from his atrokin, a hole burned through the middle of his skull.

"Form up!" Boil shouted, and a second row of men placed their shields overtop the first group. Commandos were behind them, along with a third line of soldiers. They could hear the racing of footsteps from beyond their ranks, and braced for whatever came.

Thousands of Vong surged forward, their fangs bared as they clung tightly to their amphistaffs. Chitin carbines fired, only for their rounds to ping off Republic metal. None could hit Wooley, who sat out of reach of their weapons. The clone fired off several more rounds as the enemy drew near, dropping over a dozen as they flooded forward in a tide of bodies.

Boil raised his blaster, knowing any moment the enemy would crash against his men. He heard the rattling of blasters, the shaking of hands; he knew no one was leaving alive. He watched the commandos slap fresh cartridges into their rifles, and heard vibroknuckles extend. As the footsteps drew ever closer, many of his men extended vibroblades from their wrists, ready to hack and slash when the shield wall was breached. Some were afraid, that much Boil could tell. No one ever wanted to go out in a whirlwind of death, but if any man truly wished to save his life, he never showed it. None of them ran. Instead, the shield wall stood firm as a final blockade against the enemy onslaught. The passing moments felt like hours, every one of them filled with the roaring cries of the enemy thirsting for blood.

"Hold!" Boil shouted, as if the men needed any motivation. The thunder was nearly upon them. "Hold!" he barked again, his trail foot backing up as he lowered his stance. Seconds later, the enemy hit.

The center of the line nearly buckled, with thousands of pounds of weight crashing against the soldiers in an instant. Amphistaffs struck against shields, their heads weaving about in a desperate attempt to strike skin. The clones pushed up against one another, trying to keep the horde of beasts on the other side of their shield wall. They held a moment longer, when an amphistaff finally stuck its head between a pair of shields and struck a man on the shoulder. His armor was punctured, and the venom brought him quickly to the ground. A breach made, the rest was soon to fall. Holes in the shield wall began to form as more troopers fell, and the lines behind them moved forward to retaliate. Blaster fire seeped between the remaining shields, and the groans of fallen Vong filled the region as bodies began to pile. The dead and dying only fueled the onslaught, causing more Vong to rush forward, rifles and staffs in hand. All any of them cared about was seeing the enemy die.

The clones held out several minutes more, but with cracks in their formation growing, soon the frontline became a mess of intermixing blades and rifles. Clones drove their vibroblades into the throats and sides of rash Vong, using their shields to deflect oncoming staffs and ballistics as they cut away at the enemy. Close behind the shield bearers stood a dozen commandos, their rifles unloading a thousand rounds quickly into the scores of Vong that surged onward. When their magazines emptied, half reloaded while the others threw forward their vibroknuckles. They collided with Vong, amphistaffs thrown into the air as the commandos overtook their victims with a flurry of fast incisions to the abdomen and neck.

Within the first quarter of an hour, half a thousand Vong lay dead alongside a hundred clones. The conflict dragged on a while longer, with Wooley continuing to pester the enemy ranks with his blaster fire. Clones continued to pound away at the Vong lines, and as the shield wall broke, their initial bursts of laser fire appeared to be shredding through the enemy ranks with ease. Then, the collapse came. The middle of the shield wall fell, and Vong poured past the frontline as they consumed the battlefield. Pockets of clones became trapped behind enemy lines, and were quickly overtaken by the enemy. Boil ordered a route back to the turrets, where only a handful of troops sat waiting. The route left many dead, with nearly all the shield bearers killed. Those who remained fell back to their last stand behind the turrets, and took up position alongside Boil as they prepared for the enemy's final push. Only half the commandos remained.

The enemy drew near again, several toppling as Wooley unloaded another cartridge into their ranks. Boil stood firm despite the slugs flying past his head. He pointed to the oncoming Vong and shouted, "Fire!"

The initial volley shredded the Vong like a knife in butter. Hundreds were sent tumbling as lasers from the turrets clipped their legs, causing them to be trampled by the hordes of Vong that followed. Boil raised his blaster and joined in the barrage, with Crys coming to his side as the enemy closed in on them. A hundred more of the enemy fell before they finally reached the clones, and then the fighting devolved into acts of survival. The commandos were the first to meet the enemy, vibroknuckles dancing between opponents as they tried to keep the Vong from their brothers. Others continued to unload their rifles on the enemy until, seconds later, the Vong were upon them with amphistaffs that pierced their armor with ease. The enemy quickly enveloped what remained of the clones, swarming them on all sides with primal rage. Boil and Crys stood at one another's back, blowing holes through those foolish enough to come near, when it became apparent they were some of the last clones standing.

Seeing his brothers surrounded, Wooley abandoned his position on the rock wall as he moved to break out his comrades. His aim was true, and the skulls of three Vong near the perimeter of their ranks erupted in blue fire as he approached. The clones that had been with him followed close behind, and the three caught the enemy off guard. Boil could see the men from his position, and tried to press his attack on the Vong's left flank in an effort to reach them, only to be swarmed by hundreds more of their kind. The last he saw of Wooley was an amphistaff flying through the air to meet the man's chest, and the others fell soon after. Boil heard the groan of Crys from behind him, and turned to see his brother collapsing on the ground, a hole in the side of his chest. A moment later, the battle was over.

#

Against all odds, Cody had done it. His fleet converged on the enemy, punching a much needed hole in their ranks as his capital ship led the charge to open space. All evac teams had been accounted for, and a clear signal was coming through from Christophsis. They had their opening, and he ordered the jump to lightspeed just as Delta Squad was entering the bridge.

Turning to face the men, Cody's posture was like that of a hero having conquered an empire. "Deltas… I see you made it."

"Always do," Boss replied. "But sir, the troopers at Thermonai Pass gave up their spots on the evac ships to get civilians off-planet. I'd strongly advise we go back for them."

"There's no time," Cody said, putting a hand up as if to wave the commandos off.

"But sir—" Boss tried to say, only for Cody to rip his helmet off.

"This battle is lost!" Cody snapped. "To rescue them would cost three times as many lives." He turned toward the viewport, seeing light begin to speed past them as the Warden charged up its hyperdrive.

"It's Lieutenant Boil, sir!" Boss finally managed to spit out.

Cody looked back, eyes wide, mouth open. Distress filled his gaze, and he immediately ordered to turn the fleet around. His effort was in vain. The hyperdrive activated, and the fleet shot away from Ryloth without another word.

#

Thermonai Pass was filled with many dead, and even more living. Vong troops marched on to the north, where resistance would crumble. Fires continued to spread across the burning world, and the star's glow became dim against the blaze.

Amidst the marching troops, one had an arm to his knee as he bowed before his superior. "My apologies, Subaltern. We did not intend to incur such losses," he said.

Standing over him was Pheeriz Zulatar, her eyes full of malice as she took her amphistaff calmly in hand. "Your losses were a result of poor planning. A failure that cannot go unpunished." She sent her amphistaff forward, its teeth carving open the Vong's chest. "Had you sent the Chazrach, I may have been merciful," she sneered, the sight of her victim's blood causing her to grin. She yanked her amphistaff free of the Vong's body, and watched him collapse against the dry soil before looking out on her army. So vast a force she had been given by the supreme commander that she feared what would happen if her losses became too high. It was then another of her men approached.

"Subaltern, we have one still alive," the warrior said as a pair of Zulatar's men dragged a bloody soldier toward her. "He was the last one standing."

"Ah, a fighter," Pheeriz laughed as she stepped toward the clone, whose helmet had been cast aside, revealing the bruised face of a tired man. Pheeriz bent down to look him in the eyes, but the man diverted his gaze. "Look at me, little heretic."

Boil swallowed, his brows turning inward as he looked off to his left. Blood dripped down from his cheek to his moustache, where he flicked it away with his tongue.

Pheeriz grabbed him by the jaw, tilting his head toward her to make him look. She watched Boil continue to divert his eyes from her, and after a moment more, gave up the effort. Instead, she rose from her position before the clone and altered her wrist, causing the amphistaff in her hand to loosen its body into a whip. "If you will not look upon me, you will not look upon anything." She brought her serpent about, swiping sideways at Boil. The serpent's fangs outstretched, cutting across the middle of the man's face.

The warriors released Boil, allowing him to grab at his bleeding eyes. The man cried out in agony, blood crawling out from beneath his hands to drip down his cheeks and fall against the hard ground.

Pheeriz smiled. "Set him adrift in space. I want the Republic to see him, to hear his account of us so that they too may fear our wrath."

The Vong warrior bowed. "As you wish, Subaltern." With that, the soldiers took Boil away, leaving Pheeriz to watch her unstoppable army march on the northern cities of Ryloth.

#

Author's Note

Semester's over! Though I am working on other projects, I will try to begin posting chapters on a more consistent basis.