Chapter 41
Once more the group split into two groups: the Jedi and the mundanes. Carth's team had news to deliver to Dasol how Gand screwed him by murdering the tech's shipmates and then holding him responsible for a debt that was never his. That however was not their primary mission. Their task was to hit Czerka from the western front, sandwiching them in between the LZ, corporate offices and the Wookiee village. Czerka would be hit on both flanks. Best of all- they would not be expecting it. Everything was to be set upon a timer; something Skye entrusted to Canderous knowing he would proceed without hesitation. Whatever the outcome at the Wookiee village, Czerka could not be permitted to remain to fuel Malak's war machine.
It was left to the Jedi to return the ancient blade to Freyyr and thus gain the backing needed to oust the usurper from his stolen throne. There was also the small matter of the death of a supposed hero that needed clearing up. The cubs that idolized Roworr needed to direct their fury at the right person, the one that corrupted their so-called hero. The more villagers who stood up against Chuundar the better the rebellion had a chance of succeeding.
Elder Jarrark might be arrested for the murder of the deceitful hunter though with evidence the Jedi gathered, but Skye had no doubts he would be acquitted. He might be the very person these Wookiee kids needed as a heroic figure, someone true to believe in.
Just before the teams split, it was Carth- not Canderous- who asked a poignant question. "Not to ruffle feathers Skye, but why are we installing ourselves in what is clearly an internal issue? Their plight, however distasteful, isn't our mission or priority."
The Nagai nodded slightly. "No, it isn't. And typically, I'd agree with you if the slavers where were say Gamorreans, Weequay or even Twi'leks. They have a tendency to sell mainly to the Hutt Clans. But this is Czerka and they have ties to the Sith. Where do you think all those Wookiee slaves are going? To Nal Hutta? Nar Shaddaa? No." This time she shook her dark head. "Those poor slobs are most likely being shipped off to Korriban or other Sith strongholds to be used as dispensable shock troops.
"This whole thing with taking Chuundar out is all matter of cutting off enemy supply lines. You know as well as I do Onasi how critical disrupting the enemy strengths is in a time of war. Czerka is allied with the Malak and his Sith- this cannot continue. We have an opportunity, a very unique one, and we must seize it.
"Add to that I'd rather not have to fight a battalion of two-meter tall balls of furry rage if I can help it." A lopsided and rather wily grin spread across her lips. "But it wouldn't hurt our efforts if say those same two-meter tall balls of furry rage were directed at the Sith. I'd call that a win- win."
Bastila agreed. "If the Jedi can establish a long-standing alliance with the Wookiees, it will be beneficial to us not only now but in future times to come."
"I'll say this: if the Rugs want to fight alongside us I have no objections. They are worthy warriors when they remember to be." Canderous added his consensus to the Jedi's rebuttal to Carth's query.
"It is in the best interest to take the long view." Juhani echoed her fellow Jedi. "The Republic failed Cathar during the Mandalorians Wars," she shot a "colder-than-Hoth" glare towards the old Mandy, "only Revan and her Jedi acted. "As a Jedi, and one who knows the loss of a homeworld, there is no question of what we should do."
"You're out voted Old Man." Mission said in a sing-song voice. "We're saving Big Z and his people."
Carth flung his hands up. "Look I never said we shouldn't. Only that it wasn't a priority."
"Big Z is my priority, mother-facker! Come on, we've bad guys that need killing." Mission stopped off towards path that would lead towards the lift to the Great Walkway.
KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR
The world hummed, vibrated, pulsed. Stilled.
He was here.
Eight hands went to hilts of lightsabers. As of yet no one drew their blades. This micro-fraction of paella would not last long. Bastila signalled Mission to take cover and stay out of sight, a battle with Sith assassins was far too much for the Tarisian urchin and for once she did not argue.
"At last my search is over. I was beginning to fear that someone else had killed you, thus depriving me of the pleasure."
Skye's lips twisted into a bold smirk. "We wouldn't want that, now would we? I could say this was an unexpected pleasure, but then I'd be lying." Sky said as she waltzed unconcerned towards the Dark Jedi before her, the one she knew claimed the name of Darth Bandon. "So, I'll just say an expected unpleasure."
"You may have defeated the pathetic bounty hunter my Master sent after you. But you are no match for me."
"Someone has an over-inflated ego."
"Is this the part I give an ironic chuckle before I ignite my lightsaber?
"No this is the part where you get your last glimpse of life."
"Not very Jedi of you."
"I'm new to the gig. Besides I owe you for what you did to Trask. You know... the last one you killed on the Endar Spire? He died a hero. You? Not so much."
Bandon did laugh then. Full and completely. "I have studied at the foot of the Dark Lord himself."
"Well he's not very discerning, is he?"
"You will beg for your life, worm!"
Behind Bandon, the distinct snap hiss of lightsabers erupting into life was the only sound heard, just as he had planed. His minions would take out the rabble as he engaged the broken and fallen Dark Lord. The glory of taking the Revanchist's head would be his. He would present it before his Master. Proving his worthiness as successor.
An evil smile spread across Revan's face. Bandon realized too late (just at that moment) he had been baited. She was waiting for him to act so that she could justifiably react. She had forced him to act aggressively just so that she could take a counter action, precisely the way she wanted to. It was almost-Sith.
Only in that moment did Darth Bandon wonder however very brief if he hadn't been played by both sides.
No matter. He would prove his worth to his Master, by killing this pretender, this usurper, this fallen icon of the Sith. This bitch was no more Darth Revan then his left toe. This was an poor excuse of an amnesiac fallen idle, at best.
All that mattered was Bastila, she must be taken alive. "Take the human bitch alive, the rest are expendable." He said to his minions as he ignited his own red double-bladed saber. He brought it to bear but only just before he was sent spiralling backwards, flung back by the Force.
Revan's tactic was to distract. And it worked. No number of Sith could hope to separate Revan and Bastila, so perfect were their movements, so attuned were they to each other. Revan leapt up causing Bandon to instinctively deflect her incoming blow but it was Bastila that was the immediate danger. She tucked and rolled coming in low.
Bandon scuttled backwards, his back slamming up against an arched root. Bastila whirled her own yellow double-bladed saber. One end cutting into the roots, the other whipping and cutting into the Darth's cuirass—scoring it but not cutting it open to the vulnerable flesh protected beneath.
At the same time Bastila and Revan engaged Bandon, Juhani dodged to the right- Jolee to the left- each taking on minions of Malak's apprentice. The Cathar reached out with the Force fuelling her body with superior strength and speed. She moved like lighting; she was on her enemy immediately, her lightsaber weaving through the air. The Sith dodged and lifted into the air with his saber, trying to keep one step ahead of that deadly blade and occasionally taking an aggressive swipe.
The man was good, Juhani had to admit. Very good, and more than once the Jedi had to parry desperately to turn his red blade aside. She kept up her offensive flurry, through keeping the Sith on the defensive with sudden stabs and slashing cuts.
One misstep...
Jolee started to slash to the left, cut it short and stabbed straight out, and then reversed his grip and since the lightsaber slashing across, left to right. He spun a complete circuit, coming around to parry the Sith's riposte, but there was no saber forthcoming. The left to right reversal had cleanly landed. The Sith's head flew free of his shoulders and fell tumbling like a marble, to settle in the dirt.
Bandon was pressed hard to keep the defensive screen. Clearly his Master had underestimated Revan. This was no pathetic amnesiac disgraced Dark Lord of the Sith! This was a Blademaster! Fully realized in her power. This was the Revanchist! Twin blades one dark as the abyss the other blazing emerald. Dazzling-spinning-twisting.
Then came the golden double-blade of the Sentinel. She toyed with him, never fully engaging but keeping him off balance, faltering, on the defensive. His men were dead, by the cat and the old man. He gave no notice, they were weak, the weak deserve to die.
Bandon leapt and spun, slashing side to side, chopping and thrusting, but Revan's reverse hold on her twin blades angled left and right, then up just enough to send Bandon's descending blade slipping off to the side. Bandon had to retreat soon after, gasping for breath.
Bandon exploded into motion, coming on again fiercely, his double red lightsaber flashing all about- he kept a better measure of his cuts this time, though reversing his angle often, turning a wide slash into a sudden thrust, and he soon had Revan backing, the black and emerald blade just enough to keep Bandon at bay.
Revan pressed forward more forcefully but Bandon continued to fend off the strikes, and then her momentum played out. She was too far forward, while Bandon remained in perfect balance, ready for a counterstrike.
Bandon realized the trap too late. With his attention drawn on the disgraced former Dark Lord he momentarily lost track of the other Jedi, the one his Master wanted. The Human Jedi was suddenly pressing the attack, her golden duel blades stabbing and retracting so quickly that most of Bandon's cutting parries hit nothing but air. Bandon had to jump back, and then back again, and again, as those thrusts moved ever closer to hitting home.
Bastila stepped forward suddenly, stabbing low for Bandon's thigh. Down went the red blades to intersect band thrust it right back out, up high and across the other way. Bandon couldn't get his weapon back to block, nor could he step back fast enough.
Bastila's golden blade stabbed hard into his shoulder, and as he lurched back, Bastila retracted the blade and stabbed along its original course, digging into Bandon's right thigh. The Sith stumbled backwards, tripping and crashing hard against the root system, but even as he fell Bastila was there, her golden blade rolling over and inside Bandon's blade, and with a sudden jerk, she sent Bandon' lightsaber bouncing across the forest floor.
"And so, it ends." Bastila's blade came down so hard she cut the Sith in twine from collarbone to crotch.
Revan / Skye approached the destroyed body of the fallen Sith with the benign indifference as one approaches road-kill rodents. No one weeps for wamp-rats. "Remind me never to get on the wrong end of your blade, Lover."
Bastila snickered. "I doubt that will happen," she tweaked a brief self-deflating and humourless smile, "a second time."
"Indeed not."
"Wow!" Mission cried out as she came out of hiding in the deep undergrowth. "That was amazing!" she mimed a lightsaber battle complete with sound effects. "With swhooshing and zashing and the kicking and flipping. And you did that thing Skye... that was great!"
The Nagai smirked indulgently to the young Twi'lek but watched as her Beloved stooped down and picked up Bandon's duel-bladed red saber. She turned it over and over in her hands before she clipped it to her belt.
"It looks sorta like yours only you know red."
"It's heavier actually. Not made for balance as mine is as much for sheer power." Bastila answered. "Still it is well crafted even if it has inferior crystals."
"How can you tell?" the girl said now standing at the human's side.
Skye gave a very curious look to her bondmate, but only received a very bland expression as if to say: 'What?'
"The alchemical laboratory grown crystals are no match for those naturally imbued with the Force. Still it is a powerful weapon. I am curious as a to its construction."
"Turn the enemy's own weapons against them. Is that it?" Ravensong echoed a quote from what seemed so long ago now.
'You know me so well my love.' Bastila said through their bond. Aloud she said: "Indeed."
'Of course, I do.' Revan tapped her chest. 'You live in here. Always.'
Had they been alone, Bastila would have soundly kissed her lover. It was one thing to have the others know of their affair but quite another to flaunt it in their faces. Yet even as they walked side by side, Bastila reached out to touch Skye's hand, her thumb rubbing against the back of the Nagai's hand.
'This is me, kissing you.' she sent
Skye stroked her finger tips across the pulse point along inside of Bastila's wrist, 'And this is me returning that kiss, deeply—'
Though incredibly discreet their actions had not gone unnoticed. Jolee leaned into Juhani whispering. "How long has that been going on?"
But it was Mission that happily supplied. "Since Taris"
"They share a Force-Bond," the Cathar said unwilling to betray her friends to this relative stranger. To her their relationship and its secrecy were sacrosanct. Besides it would hypocritical considering the young Jedi Knight was deeply in love and in an active albeit forbidden relationship with Belaya. "It is very intimate with them. The Force put them together for a reason, Bindo. I do not question it. Neither should you."
"Maybe." The old man said watching as the two women approach the lift that would take them back to the Great Walkway. "Their attachment goes against all Jedi training. And yet as you say the Force united them, curious. Still, who am I to question it?" He offered what he thought was a disarming smile.
"Who indeed?" the redirected question came from Skye.
"Blasted, Nagai hearing. I forgot just how acute those pointed ears of yours are." Bindo grouched.
"More acute than you realize, human." Skye said without looking back "Bastila and I do indeed share a Force-Bond and that is all you need to know. You are more than welcome to find alternative means of vacating Kashyyyk if you find that connection objectionable."
"Not I." Bindo flung his hands up in mock surrender. "As I recently told your young companion who am I to question the will of the Force? However, that can become a convenient excuse to justify one's actions."
"Maybe. But you if fear where the Force will lead you, it will become an equally convenient excuse to choose inactivity and hide away," the Nagai smirked as did Bastila. "Just saying."
"Ohhh," the teenager licked her finger and made a tick mark in the air, "you just got owned Gramps."
"Perhaps you should mind your tongue, youngling, lest you find you cannot open your mouth."
For a moment, Mission looked terrified. "You can do that through the Force?"
"Care to find out?" The aged human poised the question as he wiggled his fingers.
Mission strode quickly ahead making sure to have Skye between her and the old Jedi lest there be the slightest chance Jolee would carry out his threat.
Jolee shrugged at Juhani when the Cathar shook her head at him. "Younglings need to respect their elders."
To this Juhani could not disagree. The rest of the walk through the Shadowlands was brief and silent.
At the base of the lift was the body of Gorwooken, apparently, he had put resistance to Carth's team when they came back without the head of Freyyr in their possession. It was a clean shot to the head. Mostly clean, what was left of the head wasn't much. The shot was made by a large calibre blaster rifle which means either Canderous or HK-47 made the kill.
Skye stepped over the body as if it were a mere boulder in path to the controls to the lift and activated them even as the others hopped on. The two hours long ride back up the Jedi settled into meditative trances, readying mind, soul and body for the battle to come.
KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR
Speed. But not without thought. Force but not without focus. Chuundar's minions where there to greet them. Everything was happing at hyper speed. Five Wookiee warriors loyal to the usurper lay dead; the Jedi didn't even pause as they rushed the village proper. The lightsabers were deactivated as Skye and her companions approached the Chieftain's hut. There were more gasps from the villagers as they saw Freyyr walking amongst them, freely. No one made any further attempt to stop them; no one made a move to intercede as five of them went into to confront Chuundar.
"You disappoint me Jedi." Chuundar growled as he saw his father walk behind Ravensong.
"Don't care." Skye, sounding more like Revan during the Mandalorian wars, answered flippantly. "I told you before I'm not a blade-for-hire. I went to the Shadowlands for single reason, that reason was fulfilled. Your family issues are not my problem. I'll be taking my crew member now."
"That wasn't the deal." Chuundar glowered.
"You wanted your father's head. I brought it. Still attached to his body, I'm afraid. You want it," she pointed to the grey-furred old Wook. "Well there it is- yours for the taking if you can. I'm not going to try to stop you."
Chuundar growled and moved a step forward.
"I should warn you... he has certain blade that once belonged to some champion named Bacca," the Nagai said casually.
The collective gasp was so audible it almost felt as if hut itself inhaled. Freyyr brought the blade to bear, holding it up so that all could see the legendary weapon. Her words were enough to freeze Chuundar's personal guard. While he held the hilt, the blade itself...was the true prestigious glory of all Wookiee-kind.
Chuundar's lips pulled back into a sneer. The blade was everything to his people. That accursed weapon... he had the power because he had the hilt, but what was that compared to the sword itself? Nothing! Already Chuundar could see the people going to his father's side.
"By the blade of Bacca's Sword, I have come to end your treachery son. No more will you sell your own people."
"You have his blade? So what does that mater? I have his hilt. Held by each true Chieftain in recent memory. Even you claimed it was important." The impertinent sneer remained fixed upon the brown muzzle. "We both have our ancient trinkets, so who will the people fallow now? You? Bah! You are old and weak!" His voice was sounding more desperate than defiant.
"Both of you shut up." Zaalbar pushed both father and brother aside. "This ends today! I will not see Rwookrrorro suffer anymore! Chuundar your words are poison, you sell our people. I watched the Jedi... she listens to reasons why her enemies move as they do- understands them. I let you talk but I was not bent to your way! You have betrayed our people. You must pay!"
"That's my boy." Praised Freyyr, a little too late now to back the right son but at least he was doing so.
"Yeah you tell this poodoo Big Z!" urged Mission.
"You're too weak to fight, old wook, and I still have Czerka support! We will see who dies today."
What Chuundar, in fact what all the residents of the hut failed to see was that while the Wookiees were caught up in arguments the Jedi had manoeuvred around the hut and were now each standing by the Czerka slavers.
"No. You don't," Skye hissed igniting both her blades. She brought the black one up to the level of the human's throat who was standing behind her. "Please don't do anything stupid, like draw your weapon and die. You are seriously outnumbered."
"We have a deal!" Chuundar roared. "Shoot them!"
The man held at blade-point dropped his weapon "I'm not dying for you, Rug."
The other man dropped his gun as well.
"Wise move." Juhani said to the man she had pinned. "Wiser if you leave the village now. Better yet leave the planet."
Mission darted out and quickly policed the fallen blaster riffles. She knew growing up on the lower streets of Taris, any weapon an enemy had in reach was going to be used against you. Travelling with the Jedi reaffirmed that battlefield wisdom. She slung the strap of one rifle across her back and held the other in her arms- pointed directly at the Czerka goons.
"NO! It will not end this way!" Chuundar roared rushing his brother, his double-blade raised. His warriors moved with him going for the Jedi and the old Chief. "Kill the Jedi! Kill them all!"
Despite the Czerka hirelings' blasters now in Mission's possession they still had their backup weapons. During the chaos, they took the brief moment to draw their hand-cannons. There was no hesitation as they pulled the triggers- hoping to catch the arrogant Jedi unaware.
Juhani and Jolee, who were closest to the humans, deflected the blaster bolts with their blades, ricocheting the flack back to the shooters, killing them even before Mission could get a shot off. But she was not so helpless to the fight was she was against the Sith Force-wielders. She managed to use the techniques Canderous taught her about snipping foes- she exhaled and squeezed the trigger, taking the head of one of Chuundar's guards.
Bastila and Skye rushed the rest Chuundar's henchmen leaving the usurper to Big Z and his father. However well forged the Wookiee vibroblades were, they were no match lightsabers. Black, green and golden light hummed with life as they delivered death.
One of the wooks charged desperately, blood rage overcoming his senses. Skye spun on her the heel of her left foot, she parried the blow and their blades collided with a burning hum. On the edge of her awareness Skye heard Bastila's blade take the head of one of the guards even as she took the legs of another in a spinning back-swing. The deadly effective dance of a duel-bladed saber was a sight to behold. As one Republic soldier once said, duel blades give you more slaughter per swing. Doubly so in the hands of a Blademaster.
Skye used the Force to pull one of the gaurds towards her and arched the blade so that it cut him diagonally from right collarbone to left armpit. She used the salmon-leap manoeuvre deployed so often an Ajuur's arena back on Telos to vertically cut to the cranium of a third warrior. She rode his body to the floor and lunged the blade into a forth.
KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR
At the same time...
Carth, Canderous and HK-47 rushed the landing Czerka buildings. Their intent was not to take on the fight head-on but to undermine the fattened security. Literally. While they had used their stockpile of small munitions exterminating the rogue Mandalorians it didn't mean they were out of options.
They had a store on the Ebon Hawk. A pre-emptive comm to T3-M4 had the droid collect a stash of munitions and rendezvous with the team at the Rwookrrorro's lift to the Shadowlands. None of the Czerka personnel seemed to think it strange that an astromech droid was rolling through their stronghold with an equipment pack attacked to its back. Or that it was merrily tweeting as it rolled its way across the Great Walkway. Each presumed perhaps that it was on a task set by its master on the behest of company business. Of course, it helped that before she had left, Skye ordered T3 to go disguised as a Czerka droid, which meant a temporary paint job.
The first task the little mech employed after collecting the stash was to slice into the Czerka database and shut down the security systems and recount the camera feeds and motion detectors. Most of which were set up to monitor the influx of kinrath and mynock activities, not saboteurs. After all, any Wookiee insurrectionists were easily curtailed by Chuundar's corrupting influence over his people. They didn't dare rebel even as they were collected up by the slavers and sold on the Hutt nations or sent to the Sith.
T3 plugged into the turret systems and rerouted their IFFs so that they targeted Czerka personnel upon command once hostility broke out. When they ran for the landing platform the turrets would finish the job. The idea was not necessarily to win the engagement but rather to make it unprofitable for Czerka to remain on Kashyyyk. It was imperative that it was seen that the Wookiees- not the Jedi and their allies- took back their world—their freedom.
Once the little droid met up with Carth's team he surrendered his haul so that the mag-lock thermal detonators could be disbursed along the support struts of the Czerka compound. Stealth belts and grappling lines took care of the rest of the gear needed for the secondary team to spider-walk their way along the underside of the walkway towards the main hub. Here they could maximize the blast radius so that only the main structure imploded leaving the main landing platform intact. It would not do to jeopardize security of the Ebon Hawk with careless planning.
Canderous still liked the idea of waiting for the Jedi whelp's signal to blow the hub. The plan, however sound, rested on too many variables- like relying on a people that allowed themselves to be sold into slavery. Still, he could not resist the comparison of this whelp to the Nagai that bested his people and took the head of Mandalor.
Revan had done similar manoeuvrings; destroy one mega structure thus forcing a retreat of its personnel only to have them bottlenecked into an ambush as they try and flee to safety. It was brilliant in its simplicity. To control the outcome, control the beginning. Ravensong wanted Wookiee allies, not simply for the Jedi and the Republic but as bodies to throw at Malak. That Ordo could appreciate, it was almost Mandalorian of the Whelp to enact such machinations.
It wasn't the plan that Ordo disliked so much as it was the waiting. He was never good at that the whole time during the war, working for Davik Kang and now with the Whelp. The Republic dog filled his time of waiting with relating the news of the demise of Matton's crew to the luckless spacer. HK-47 urged the man to take out Eli Gand for his treachery. Something Ordo supported fully. Typically, Onasi urged Matton to allow Gand to run and take over his merchandising business.
Of course, HK pointed out that there would not be much of a business left for Matton to take over once the master returned. Why not eliminate Gand, take over his business and relocate somewhere less volatile? Matton took up the suggestion. His men died for Gand's greed. He was placed into slavery like the poor wretched rugs because of Matton's own sense of obligation and honor. Canderous handed the stranded spacer his own blaster to finish the job. Carth said nothing. Payback is a bitch.
Czerka was about to find that out soon enough.
Canderous looked at his wrist-comm and chrono. Only two and a half minutes more until zero hour. The Whelp had better have the rugs set in motion or this rebellion was going to be a real short trip.
"You keep looking at that thing like an expectant father." Carth teased his Mandalorian counterpart. "We move once we get the signal from Ravensong. Don't get jumpy, Mandy."
"And that is why the Republic nearly lost the war, needless redundancies in planning. We have a synchronized time to destroy the hub. We wait only until then to strike," Ordo discounted Onasi's warnings. "Ravensong gets this, maybe its because she's a Blade. Revan knew strategy too. Don't get lazy."
"Agreement: The Mandy meatbag is correct. The Master is counting on the hub being neutralized at a very specific time. If we fail, she fails." HK said.
The chrono bleeped.
"It's time." Ordo said casually. He tapped a few commands into his wrist-comm. It bleeped red as it transmitted a radio-signal to the bombs.
Like a tidal-wave rippling the shore, the bombs went off one right after the other in a rolling mushroom-cloud of destruction. The impact of the detonations set off a series of chain reactions of smaller explosions. The initial blast sent the dockworkers, and the Companions reeling through blinding orange light to slam face first into the platform. Sirens blared, screaming. Voices screamed out in pain, terror, desperation and anger. Most of the people ignored the companions as they fled desperately for cover and safety in their one desperate flight.
Showers of splintered wood and rubble pelted down amongst the survivors, impaling some of them to the walkway whist they fled. The companions were saved only for their forethought to seek shelter under the belly of the Ebon Hawk.
The visceral carnage explosion of the hub core had exactly the impact the Nagai was hoping for. Panic and chaos descended over the planet. The alarms had sent people fleeing for the exits, frantic to get way form the destruction only to run headlong into a volley of turret fire. The slavers were dying by the score. Czerka was dying.
KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR~ KOTOR
At Zaalbar's feet lay the body of his brother. His expression blank, his heart broken. "It is regrettable... but it had to be done." The younger son said his voice strangely absent of anger and filled with deepening regret.
"There is no time for regret Big Z. We have to move. Now!" Skye / Revan turned to the gathered Wookiees. "Out there my people are doing your job. They are reclaiming your planet for you. You all protest the incursion of outsiders- now do something about it! Reclaim that which is yours! Chuundar and Czerka have neutered you all, how sad a fate it is for all Wookiee-kind that Rwookrrorro failed Kashyyyk so.
"Reclaim your honor, your pride, your planet, yourselves. Take to the air with your gliders, the hub is being destroyed as we speak; the rest is up to you. Live on your knees or face your fate on your feet."
The former Dark Lord said nothing more. She turned on her heel and stalked out of the hut, either the warriors of Rwookrrorro were strong enough to secure their own liberation or they were not. Behind her followed the other Jedi, soon after came Zaalbar and Mission. Seconds after came the rallied force of Wookiee warriors with renewed vigour as they stormed out of the village.
Almost as soon as the Wooks took to the air in their wroshyr wood and walluga leather gliders, they witnessed the destruction of Czerka's central hub in a glorious fireball. Their roars of celebration and glad-tidings was almost as loud and riotous as the explosion itself. Their blood burned for battle as hot, as fierce and as quickly as the blaze engulfing the base.
Descending from vines and ropes from surrounding tress, Wookiees converged with wild whoops and roars on the panicked Czerka operatives below. Seven lay dead from bolts volleyed from bow-casters before they even they hit the deck.
There were black, green, cyan, golden blurs—limbs slashed, bodies broken, chests and heads shattered in pink, orange, green, and blue mist in blaster fire. The destruction of Czerka was total and complete, as brutal as was their reign on the forested world.
Canderous's diligence setting the explosives up had contained the blast radius to the hub itself, the fire had not spread to the other trees or to the lading zone itself.
The ashes fell as the battle stilled in a din of riotous whoops of success. What was left of the Czerka agents were snatched up by the Wookiees and were literally cast from their homes. Their cries were swallowed long before their corpses hit the Shadowlands.
In the moments fallowing the battle's aftermath, congratulations of a battle well fought were wide-spread. Even more so were the disbelieving adorations that outsiders would even offer. Despite it all Skye was more than anxious to leave the forested world far behind her. They had three of the five maps now and things seemed to be coming to a head fast. Malak wasn't going to rest on his ass wile his adversaries were busy in glad-tidings and merrymaking. And truth be told, Ravensong had no patience for it.
That being said, the Jedi knew she'd be a great fool not to take advantage of the opportunity before her. "Yes, by all means celebrate your new freedom!" She shouted out above the roars of Wookiee jubilation. The will of the Force carried her voice, dumping the cheers and turning every head. "Remember this day well warriors of Kashyyyk. Remember it came by the hands of the Jedi and their allies. Remember the blood taken from your kith and kin. Taken not just from outsider slavers, but by the hands of your own people! No bastard ever won a war by dying for his world. It is won by making some other poor dumb bastard die for his world, his cause. Today those Czerka sleemo's died for theirs, their will and greed.
"Czerka was the enemy here. But they are small. Malak and his dogs are the enemy, the true enemy. Remember this day warriors of Rwookrrorro, remember who vindicated you and your kith. There will be a great call to arms in days to come, and you will answer.
"Honor made Zaalbar swear a life debt to me after I freed him from slavers on Taris, can Rwookrrorro do any less for the Jedi after we saved you from Czerka? From your own inner corruption festering away at the heart of your government, at the feet of the usurper Chuundar?! When the call comes, I do not want to get any messages from Kashyyyk that you are holding your position! You will hold nothing, you will advance, constantly advance! The only thing you will hold on to is the enemy. Never let it be said again that the Wookiees were made small, were neutered. You will rise and remember always the debt of life owed to those that freed you!"
There was a deafening stillness that raked the eardrums and ate raw the nerves. Until the old gray Wook, Freyyr spoke. "When the call comes, Jedi Ravensong, Rwookrrorro will answer." He took a hesitant step closer to the Nagai warrior, when he spoke again his voice was hushed but no less respectful. "Master Jedi, I need a moment alone with my son, will you grant this old Wook that much before you take him away again?"
"Of course," Skye inclined her head almost imperiously, "take the time that is required Chieftain, but we cannot delay for long. Our mission cannot wait, even for long overdue homecomings." She turned to her crewman, "Zaalbar, I know this is a big moment for you and a lot is going on. And I appreciate that, but I need you on the Hawk in half an hour. No more."
"I'll be there, Skye," the young male grunted his promise.
Mission padded up to him and touched him on the arm. She didn't have to say anything to her long-time friend, the touch said it all: 'Glad you got your world back, glad you're still coming with us and not staying behind.'
Even wanting to, to help his father put the world back together again Zaalbar knew that was not an option. He- as Skye so aptly put it- he owed her a life debt, he was as bound to her as much as Bastila was. As they all were.