AN: Sorry for the delays. A lot happened over the last couple months, including a couple emergencies. Worst yet the second part of Al'rahem's entry just doesn't feel natural to me no matter what I do, so I go stuck on that and rewrote it so many times it took another full two weeks to finally give up on it and deposit the mess you see before you. Still not happy with it, or cutting the last bit of the chapter, but this felt like a better place to end and I really needed to get this out due to how very overdue it is. Again, sorry about that. I'll try my best to get the next section out much faster, but this should have warned you about how much of a failure I am when it comes to due dates.
Onto Reviews: Anons: on the nids, those weren't republic worlds they found, on cyclonics, no, they used them on the nid fleet when things got desperate, it didn't help as much as they needed it too.
March2Dis: We will be visiting mandalore a couple times for reasons that will be clear once the first visit is complete. It will not be anything resembling a minor battle.
Ryloth, 20km South of Lessu-5 Days post merge
This city, Anastacia thought, had to be one of the worst designed cities she had ever sieged. It was a large, open target with no void shielding, and built into a mountain in a way that would let even a tank regiment easily bombard it. There seemed to be no artillery built into the mountain side, or at least none the xenos could use judging by the lack of any attempt to disrupt their setting up, and the walls didn't seem particularly well armed either. Not an autocannon emplacement or heavy weapons team in sight.
Of course, this was her first time actually commanding a siege, so perhaps there was just something she was missing. It was a distinctly underwhelming experience, truth be told. Part of that was simply the lack of proper equipment. Much of the gear her former superiors had used for their headquarters, from advanced vox systems to airdropped bunkers had been lost to that disastrous tunneling assault back in nihilas. The best the lads could set up for her was a simple dugout with what they could salvage from the acid burned ruins of the bunkers that were still (mostly) intact, topped off with the largest camoline tarp they could find.
There were some pieces of aegis defense line left over, so they had that for the perimeter. Anastacia could spy her old squad from the eighth battery hauling some of the pieces into position as she stood upon an upended ammo crate to peer out the sizable frontal hole the dugout's camoline didn't cover. It was six feet up, so it wasn't that she was short, it was just that…the hole was unreasonably high! Yes, that was what she was sticking with. It was mostly Icarus lascannon mounts, disappointingly. She would be a lot more comfortable with some autocannons, but that's the guard for you, never expect the convenient to occur.
She would prefer to have some real bunkers built, but the general said this campaign would be on a time limit. Now, she was new to this whole "colonel" thing, but she was pretty sure quick strikes weren't exactly the kind of thing their battlegroup specialized in. She was certainly young for the role, but not young enough to not know that even the best artillery regiments weren't the most mobile. Anastacia stretched upwards as far as she could, doing her best not to catch her new white colonel's heavy coat on the box as she observed the city being sieged again with her magnoculars. Well, the city was fairly unsheltered, so maybe they could pull it off.
Then again, that is what she had thought on Nihilas. The Valhallan 97th was a new regiment, meant to operate in tandem with the 33rd infantry and 82nd armored regiment it had been raised alongside. They had been organized to manage the constant rebellions springing up since the great rift had filled the skies and had for the most part had an easy time of it. On the imperial worlds they had to quell rebellions on, most of her work had been walking around intimidating the populace as the inquisitorial and arbites elements attached cleaned up anyone related to the incident. On imperial worlds they needed to retake, the aeronautica elements cleaned up anyone outside bunkers and they sat back and pounded the void shields down, the cleanup being left to the 33rd and 82nd. They had suffered next to no casualties, except for the occasional ammunition mishap or poor fool who ran afoul of the commissar of course, but besides that it had been smooth sailing for the most part.
Then came Nihilas. The atmosphere had been radically different from the start, where even before they landed she could see the fear in the eyes of every voidsman she had passed. They had been shepherded from the dropships by fearful pdf troopers and shown their places in the defensive line by ever silent astartes, only ever speaking to give orders. Their welcome had been by weary adeptus sororitus that had been running delaying actions against the splinter fleet for some time in neighboring systems, some missing limbs, many missing eyes, all heavily scarred and had said little. They had this air of almost pity about them, knowing, in hindsight, how little they were prepared for what was to come.
Leading them had been a grim-faced inquisitor of the ordo xenos, his visage darkening by the day as the enemy began their approach. The other regiments were no newcomers and had known what to expect. On one side they were flanked by the dour men of kreig, who would at best when goaded to conversion simply mention the best way their cult of sacrifice recommended dying in this coming conflict. On the other was her now general's regiment, which tried their best to advise the newbloods on how to survive the coming incursion.
They hadn't listened. So fresh from a streak of victories, having never heard much of xenos besides the orks that had threatened their homeworld, they simply did not believe the fatalistic words of their new comrades, that so many of their own were destined to die. These were but xenos before the might of the emperor after all! Surely, none could truly stand before not just his hammer, but his angels as well? There had even been talk amongst the 33rd of how the counterattacks would go, and bets on who would earn the most kills.
Now the 33rd was gone, and the 87th with it. The war had gone..flashing teeth and claws, the corpses of her friends rising again as things moved beneath their eyes and flesh, hearing screaming as her boots and feet were reduced to bone by the acid flooding the streets and realizing that it was her own…poorly. In those hellish weeks she had at last understood the truth of the emperor's words, why she was here on this small rock before any of them had really been able to recover. She had seen the weakness of men, and the cruelty of those the things on the other side had tempted, but it wasn't anything like she had seen during that month.
Those people were still humans, still acting like a person would. Xenos weren't, xenos didn't act like a human unless they were trying to trick you by wearing the shape of a friend, their claws slowly unsheathing as your squad mate tearfully reached out to embrace the one you thought lost and it-she shuddered. Rebels, cultists, and sinners were bad. They made life harder for everyone, they were greedy, they hurt and they stole but they could still be redeemed by the flame. Xenos couldn't. Xenos were all that and so much more and when Anastacia had looked the creature using her friend's face in the eyes and saw the terrible thing lay behind it and every other beast on the battlefield she had truly understood what the preachers meant when they used the word evil. She had understood why she and the others had to leave home, never to return and she understood why the regiment had to keep fighting even as their minds were in tatters. She understood why she couldn't afford to let a single one escape alive, so that someone else didn't have to see what she had seen and so one day no one would have to.
It just wasn't the same anymore. They all still smiled, as Valhallan's always had in the face of horrific casualties, but the smiles were obviously forced, and each night troopers were woken by the screams of their comrades as night terrors dragged them all back to that organic hell where spires of bone and chitin pierced the sky and the atmosphere was as alive and malicious as the hellbeasts that produced it. More depressing were the smaller details, like noticing how twitchy everyone had gotten, how they didn't trust the ground they trod upon and refused to leave their back turned to any vent or corner. How they would periodically freeze up and throw their gaze around, only to notice that it was just some vehicle or piece of gear that had made the ground quake. How she would notice herself do these things too. How she would notice every night how empty the barracks seemed to be.
She didn't know how to cope with it at first, but the solution had become obvious after observing the rest of the regiment. All she had to do was keep smiling and stay positive. As long as those two thoughts filled her head, as long as she didn't think about anything else, then she wouldn't have any problems. She would be fine, she wouldn't be forced to stay awake at night waiting for those shadows to erupt into a massive maw the size of her house, crawling across the floor in and through the pulped organs of the other Lieutenants as the creature came down and the colonel screamed as it-Anastacia twitched, her mind forcefully dragging itself back to the thoughts of smiles and happy days purging heretics and rebels with her friends who were-she twitched again. All she had to do was repress it and the problem would go away and she could go back to being happy. It was so simple.
The sooner this mess was over, and she was away from the loose, fertile soil that was so easy to burrow through that the creatures-did nothing because they were not here and was back in orbit in her safe, metal officer's dorm with all the vents welded shut the better. Maybe once they were done here she could ask the general how he cheered his men up, she could use the advice. The length of the campaign might make the morale more tenuous if it ended up stretching on as the men really needed some rest, but as long as they thought like she did it should be fine.
Still, a better idea of how long this mess would take might help. She turned back to her rather plain servo skull and followed its gaze to where its pic-recorder was displaying the navy's fly over images for her vox officer. He seemed to be relaying them to colonel Patton through his master vox and judging from the bluster audible even halfway across the room, he was rather dismayed with the enemy's lack of sensible defenses. She decided at long last that, no matter how long she might live, she would never understand tank commanders.
She strode over to the vox officer, doing her best Very Important Person impression, her face the very visage of strict and counterproductive discipline. Now that she thought about it, she was probably the closest thing the regiment had to a commissar at this point. She had no idea how they kept this up all day, she was a mess of nerves and she hadn't even spoken yet, and her face hurt as she tried to keep it in place. Well, she had a bolt pistol now, so maybe they just intimidated people hard enough that they didn't notice any missteps. But how did that work in the tank legion?
Reaching the vox officer, she tapped him on the shoulder, distracting him from the other colonel's rant about the inadequacies of the xenos. Outwardly, she was the perfect example of expressionless authority, but inwardly she was cursing up a storm. She should have just expressionlessly stood behind the man, waiting expressionlessly until the horrified looks of his coworkers alerted him to her presence. Then a look of horror would dawn on his own face, and the man would be reduced to a stammering wreck, apologizing profusely for not noticing her and the wait. Her former captain loved doing that, and it had always worked on her.
The man looked at her, hope shining in his eyes for an excuse to change channels. Well, an act of mercy could go a long way with the troops, so she might as well oblige him. "Officer, what is the regiments state of readiness? Are we prepared for the bombardment?" she asked. The man muttered some apologies into the vox, quickly reaching for the controls and cutting off the loud angry replies as he looked over her shoulder at some other member of the command staff. Seeming to receive whatever silent answer he was searching for, he nodded at his compatriot and refocused on her face. "Yes colonel, the logistics officers just finished handing out the camo netting, so we should be mostly safe from counter battery fire. Luckily, this planet is close enough to our last deployment we don't need to repaint the guns anyways. The ammo depos are in place to, so we can begin when you think we are ready. Er, ma'am."
She hummed noncommittally, trying to covertly find a reflective surface to show the officer she probably should have talked to instead. It looked like he was starting to notice though, which would hurt her image. Better distract him.
"Do the logisticians have an estimate of how long it will take us to saturate the full bombardment area with enough fire to exterminate the constructs?" He tried to look over her shoulder again, but she swayed slightly to block his line of view, hopefully in a way that seemed natural. Let's see how he liked not knowing things.
The vox officer quickly appeared to get frustrated, but then had a flash of triumph cross his face. His compatriot must have signaled him somehow. "A day just about ma'am. We should be done by roughly noon tomorrow, and the bridge should be finished just before nightfall."
Anastacia nodded, and walked over to the former colonels mostly repaired command chair, which was in her opinion the real triumph of the post nihilas salvage mission. She sat down in it, crossing one leg over the other and hiding her face behind steepled fingers. On one armrest lay her new bolt pistol, partly to look intimidating and partly because it was heavy. Her chainsword lay against the other side, for quick access. She gazed at the vox officer, and at last informed him "You may tell the batteries to begin preliminary bombardment".
The man gave her a strange look, likely surprised by her flawless transition to the command position, before nodding and began relaying her orders to the battery commanders. After all, with five whole campaigns under her belt as a lieutenant for a basilisk battery, surely her idea of what command was like couldn't be wrong, right? She dismissed the thought as the first artillery pieces opened up on the apparently defenseless xenos city. Well, if she was doing something wrong someone would have told her already. Settling back a bit in her chair, she observed her servo skull as it displayed real time images of the initial bombardment. Hopefully, this would be an easy enough siege to start off her career in her newly earned command position. With reinforcements likely weeks away, and the city and planet at that completely defenseless before the guard's onslaught, what could possibly go wrong?
Ryloth, Subterranean Caves-6 Days post merge
General Al'rahem had seen many types of xenos civilizations over his many, many years and on average he found those that lived underground were particularly loathsome. Often some strange breed on insect or invertebrate, sometimes with parasitism mixed in, their nature made orbital bombardment a difficult prospect as with how deep some tunnels could go you could never be sure you got all of them and the bombardment could collapse parts of their tunnel networks, obscuring lower layers where the species would lurk and bide its time.
That of course did not even include the nature of caves even without their heretical inhabitants. They were dark places filled with secret passageways, narrow corridors, and sheer cliffs that required dedicated climbing equipment to handle. Any hope of using armored or heavy support elements in such a campaign was always quickly discouraged once the analysis of their operational zone was completed, leading to the regiment having to slog through hundreds of kilometers in the dark in a stressful and tedious quest to root their quarries out of whatever cranny they were hiding in.
This campaign didn't seem to be as terrible as most though. The native xenos beasts weren't much compared to grox or ambull, even in the darker parts of the planet. The xenos he was here to hunt seemed to lack any innate tunneling ability, which made their choice of living conditions puzzling, but somewhat convenient as they had nowhere to run. Most caves were small too, so most of the early landings had their companies finished purging by midday and redirected to provide infantry support for the other regiments in their siege. Of the majority of the regiment though, the roughly 40,000 members that made up the three prongs assigned to attack their main population center as far as their sensors could tell, all were still stuck in the same cave system. It turns out that the major caves all connected once you got far enough down which, in retrospect, is likely why these twilek chose them. As the forward elements of his company careful advanced, scanning every inch of ground with temperamental mechanicus devices in search of mines, gas, or biological hazards, he felt despite the convenience of a connected cave system they still ought to have trapped it better. There was almost nothing here.
His unease was not helped by how smoothly the landings had gone. Even with the occupying airforce destroyed and the planet already besieged by another, this was supposed to be a homeworld of a xenos race. No matter how vile or strange, there was no species in the galaxy that did not place great value on such places. Even utterly irrelevant species like the Cimmeriac had garrisons of dozens of battle stations and about fifty of their Shadowcruisers guarding their point of origin, even after the thrashing Vortigern's battered fleet had inflicted on the rest of their navy. The republic, by all current estimates, was much larger than those long dead xenos, and had at least 60 worlds under their sway, rivaling other minor powers like the T'au empire. Yet the remains of the fleet visible in orbit could barely be considered a patrol fleet, and there wasn't a battle station in sight.
This was supposed to be Ryloth, homeworld of a major species within this confederation of man and beast, and yet it seemed more and more like an outpost on some forgotten feral world than a place of any importance in the Republic as he continued to receive intelligence on it. He had thought, if not a fleet, then perhaps a shield and powerful defensive batteries? But no, there seemed to have been little if any losses to the construct using xenos fleet, and the wreckage suggested either the fleet had no been here long enough to break a shield, or the shield was a very bad one. Perhaps then, the xenos were experts at guerrilla warfare, and like the Kroot when confronted with a superior force melted into the environment and simply avoided direct confrontation? This too was proven false when none of the survivors appeared to harass his invaders, instead choosing to huddle in their caverns, guarded by white clad soldiers of a different species. Something was off here, but he wasn't sure what yet.
Until he figured out what was going on, caution was the way to go. His troops had all been deployed and entered the cave at this point, and they had made decent headway into clearing them. The worrying lack of resistance meant that they could move as fast as they could scan the place, and with the amount of men deployed that was fast indeed. Not as fast as if they could bring their armor with them, but that level of inconvenience was much better than they usually experienced.
Still, he would much prefer to command things from a Salamander, the tunnel network was dense enough and deep enough that it could easily cause vox problems. Which was of course why he was wearing a heavy helmet under his Tallarn headdress. The last of his men to be deployed formed up around him as the rumble of engines faded into the distance, the Chimera transports that had bought them here returning to their dropships to gather additional supplies. He would need to go to the front personally to ensure the lines of communication and command stayed strong, and while he would be lacking a great deal of tactical information that a Salamander would have gave him access to, it was better to be in contact with the troops than to have that information and not be able to use it.
As the majority of his command squad formed up behind him, he gave his standard bearer a nod and began his decent into the cave system, illuminated only by lighting systems attacked to his helmet and the lasguns of his escort. The standard bearer barked an order and he could hear the thud of countless boots following in his footsteps. Their march was slow, the mass of infantry forced into a thin column due to the narrow walls of the tunnel, and it took some jostling to get the sensor bearing troopers to the front of the line. They began to examine the ground and air as they walked, as despite the fact many had already come this way it was always possible enemy infiltrators could bypass them to planet new traps in the hopes of taking out command units. That was yet another thing the dark winding corridors of caves made more possible and, Al'rahem decided as he scanned the darkness ahead, inbuilt preysight active, yet another reason he really did not like caves.
oOo
Down and down Al'rahem went, the darkness of the cave broken by the occasional colony of bioluminescent fungi and even more occasionally by intermittent flashes of weapons fire. The shape of the tunnels made it obvious that the caves were artificial but were roughly hewn enough that they appeared natural. The chronometer had long since passed midnight and they had advanced countless kilometers since then, cleared many caves and slain many foes, but had yet to see a single member of the target species. They hadn't seen any true fortifications, traps, biological weapons, or large groups of enemies either for that matter, so the casualties were pleasantly light for an underground campaign.
Still, the sheer size of the cave system was slowing them down more than they liked. As the converged on the central point it was estimated the remaining twileks were hiding in, more and more of his men were being diverted down side passages and holes of varying size to ensure that none had managed to find a hiding spot they might overlook. That had happened before, and the accursed fungus creatures he had been fighting at the time had recouped their losses within the decade due to their unusual reproductive methods. He had learned since then though and wouldn't be making the same mistake twice.
So far, they had managed to catch very few in those side passages, and neither had any of the other companies. This unfortunately meant the xenos had concentrated what remained of their forces in their stronghold, as opposed to letting them pick them off one by one. While this was an inconvenience, it also meant no ambushes, so he decided it was a good thing in the long run. Well, no ambushes except for the white armored troopers.
Al'rahem grimaced as he stepped over one of those white armored enemies, slain in their most recent skirmish. Squads of them had been harassing the advance with not much in the way opposition since dawn, not that he could tell at the time with so much rock between him and the surface. They were having trouble catching them due to the impossibility of moving at their usual speeds without their chimera, and the narrow confines of the tunnels made concentrating their numerical advantage nearly impossible. The nature of his foes didn't make things any easier either.
Al'rahem pressed himself against the wall of the cave, allowing a flurry of blue bolt stream past. The enemy had a distinctive t-shaped visor and white plate armor with a visible black under suit covering the places the plates did not. Their rifle had a decent rate of fire, and was compact, perhaps a carbine variant meant for close quarters fights like these? He stepped away from the wall as the firing died down, firing a volley of plasma shots at the retreating figures. Most missed, scorching the white armor of his adversaries in passing, but one hit a retreating figure mid-back, disintegrating the center of his torso. He fell with a strangled cry, carbine flying out of reach as he hit the ground. Their armor was fairly good at absorbing energy, and could take more than a few lasgun shots, but plasma was plasma. It always did the job.
One of the figures turned to help his fallen comrade only to take a dozen lasgun shots to the chest. As he fell back, his cratered plate still smoking, veteran squads escorting Al'rahem finally caught up. At their head was his displeased looking vox officer, giving him what the lad no doubt though was a stern glare. He got an unrepentant shrug in return. If he wanted to follow him around he should be able to keep up. These tunnels were never meant for countless men running around weighed down by so much gear, and many had thin enough floors that when combined with damage from lasguns and the occasional grenade this constant pressure would lead to a collapse, depositing a squad or two far away from any help and stopping any further use of the passage in question. These troops were thus very vulnerable to ambush and annihilation and required their comrades to immediately find and reinforce them or risk their annihilation. Which was of course the reason for his hurry.
The rest of his command squad would be more than capable of keeping up with him, but his psyker had exploded on Nihilas due to the shadow in the warp, and upon hearing who exactly had charged the regiment with this mission father Anders had been seized with religious furor and charged off with a platoon or two he had convinced to follow him. The man seemed fine judging by the continuous religious chanting he could still hear echoing about, interrupted occasionally by xenos screaming and familiar cackling. His Ogryn bodyguard had created one of the holes that had been separating his troops via his ripper, with the members of the squad heading down after him as the collapse grew to encompasses most of the passage they were in at the time. Except his medic of course, not even the ground opening below his feet could free him from that menace.
The medic laughed at the younger officer's expression, stepping away from the other side of the corridors as he did so. "Come now replacement, surely you don't think that these wretches could possibly be a threat to us? They don't seem to have a heavy weapon worth the name, and the good general is wearing carapace armor. Worst comes to worst I could fix him up, even if all that was left was his thick skull". It seemed he wasn't overly pleased with his avoidance of his so-called escort either, but he was a medic. They were never happy.
"First off, the general is putting himself in danger for no good reason, so of course I'll be cross with him. Second of all, stop calling me that, I have a name and its-" his medic was already moving up though, leaving the slower vox officer to fume impotently in the gathering dust behind him. The vox equipment did look rather heavy, so perhaps it was slowing him down? "Stop ignoring me!" He probably wouldn't given his own experience, but the kid would learn that soon enough. He walked over to the medic as the healer kicked the white armored trooper over, looking for lifesigns no doubt. As he did, the white trooper's helmet came loose, and Al'rahem grimaced.
It was a human, a young male with short dark hair, bereft of any mutation. He never liked fighting other humans, but this was particularly displeasing. Fighting humans was one thing, but fighting humans enslaved by aliens was another. The fact the xenos bred humans for the explicit purpose of fighting in their slave armies made his blood boil and had gone a good way towards restoring morale when revealed to the troops.
It was a nice, clear cut wrong that needed to be righted, unlike some cases that the regiment had encountered facing their kin before, and should they succeed against this republic then they would be freeing countless individuals from a similar fate. Who new how many had been born to die in xenos cloning facilities like this young man before him, how many more would by the end? They likely couldn't save these ones with how deep the xeno's lies had sunk into their minds, such propaganda and corruption was insidious and you could never be sure you cleansed it all, but they could extinguish the twileks they guarded for their part in the suffering these humans were forced to endure. It wouldn't comfort them much, but hopefully in the process they could free the slave soldier's souls and let them return to the side of Him On Earth.
Screaming sounded from down the passageway, and as he looked up he saw the remaining members of the trooper's squad return under the arms of his Ogryn comrade, thrashing desperately in a futile attempt to get free. It seemed his instincts had guided him down the correct path to reunite with his command squad, the rest of which staggered out of the darkness with nothing but a few bruises to show for their fall. He shot a smug look at his vox officer, who had tried to insist the maps they had made of the caverns said this was a dead end and no, no matter how much his superior officer insisted "instincts" were not a valid reason to ignore said maps, an argument that lead to him slipping away with his medic once the kid had his back turned. The officer looked even more irritated than he had previously and was hopefully beginning to realize the futility of trying to change his mind.
He walked up to the rest of his command squad, who were gesturing for him to follow as they retraced their steps. The troopers in white seemed to increase their struggles as he approached, but he ignored them in favor of trying to see whatever it was they were trying to show him. Crouching in front of a tank sized hole in the tunnel, the Ogryn turned around and sheepishly scratched his head, dropping the enemies in the process. His escorts pinned them before they could recover luckily, but the big guy didn't seem to notice.
"Sorry boss" he said, somewhat down "I broke the walls like you said not to, cause of the uhh…Struktal Integy could cause a coll…callap…fall, right?" He asked, proud he remembered the words. Well, he almost did anyways. "But, but look" He said, perking up "I found the thing I did, the thing we was lookin for! I did good so its okay right boss?" Al'rahem peered into the hole, taking in the vast expanse of tents and buildings of obvious xenos origin stretched out below. It seemed the mechanicus's sensors were off by a bit. They had been right above the convergence point this whole time. He slapped the Ogryn on the back and gave him the his best winning smile. "Yes buddy, yes you did"
As the Ogryn started to make excited noises, Al'rahem strode over to his vox officer. The kid opened his mouth, likely to try and remind them he had a name again, but the general was having none of it. "Replacement, vox the rest of the regiment, tell them we've found it". He kept walking, not bothering to wait for a reply as he headed back to where he assumed the rest of his troops should still be. "And tell them to bring as much rope as they can carry from the landers!" He shouted over his shoulder. It had been a while since he had assaulted a city through its ceiling. No matter when, no matter where, they never seemed to expect it. Not an easy task, but it could be worse. At least they had started with the high ground this time.
oOo
Ima-Gun Di had been to many refugee camps prior to the clone wars. His peacekeeping duties meant they were the kind of areas he would travel to, and over the many years he had spent in them, he had come to realize they had a distinct smell. It was a mix of blood and other assorted bodily fluids, the rotting smell of untreated wounds, the fumes of poorly dug new sewage facilities and the smell of unwashed and sweaty civilians. It wasn't a pleasant smell, and it was one he had come to associate with war, as in his experience where there was war this smell wasn't far behind.
The atmosphere of the camp wasn't any better. As he sat on an empty ammunition box, he could see countless young and old twileks quickly moving about, bent over as if to ward off an incoming blow. Their eyes darted around the area, looking for any sign the enemy had come. Instead, they saw overcrowded houses filled to brim with as many as refugees as was ethical, and countless tents brought out from emergency supply depots to house the many, many others that the houses could not accommodate.
What they didn't see where many adults in their prime. When it was reported the newly arrived fleet had started bombing twilek settlement they could find, the freedom fighter Cham Syndulla had gathered most of them as volunteers and charged off to rescue any twilek out there that could still be saved. He had not been heard from since, and it had become obvious since what had happened to them. The Jedi clenched his hand, anger briefly interrupting his sorrow before decades of emotional conditioning suppressed it. Cham was just the newest good being murdered by this new group of genocidal monsters.
Monsters was a good term for those he faced. Planetary invasions were common enough, but he had never heard of immediately slaughtering every single civilian on the face of a planet until these new groups had showed up not so long ago. No on knew where they came from, or where the anomalies that followed had either, but the new civilizations that had appeared barely a week prior had quickly proven themselves a bane on all life, and civilization itself.
Not only were they erasing the people of Ryloth, but with them went countless years of oral history and much of their traditional dances and rituals. How much art had been destroyed by the bombings, how many stories and legends sent up in smoke? Even if the planet was repopulated, the Twileks as a civilization would likely be extinguished. In its place would be a group of colonists with no connection to the people that had once called the planet home. The dances the people of Twilek were famous for would likely be forgotten with so many of the ones who taught them dead, and much of their architecture would die with their artisans. Small details like these were what truly made genocide such a horrid act. And a rare one.
Yet these newcomers seemed as if they intended to commit it wherever they could. They had done it on every world they had encountered so far, giving no quarter and expecting none in return. Even more concerningly, with how effective they were at destroying literature and hunting down fleeing refugees, it was obvious this was something they were very good at, a level of skill that only came from experience. Where could they have gained that experience without being noticed, what kind of culture could produce individuals willing to excel in such a matter?
The monsters that were currently doing their best to find and kill so many people were strange indeed. They dressed in many different uniforms despite fighting as one army, with the ones in the tunnels wearing dark brown boots and a pair of light brown desert patterned pants and a shirt that suggested they were used to desert fighting. The only armor they seemed to wear were the small pauldrons on their shoulders and helmet under the white headdress they all wore, but as it turned out the uniform was actually a highly resistant material that could stand up to blaster fire. The reports of the Twileks on the surface before they were destroyed suggested the other soldiers wore things like greatcoats and fur hats designed for winter, or charcoal grey uniforms similar to the first group but with archaic respirators covering their faces.
The lack of uniformity was strange, as it seemed that despite being so focused on wiping out other cultures they were so tolerant of differences within their own ranks they didn't even have a standard form of dress. They were also reported to have large creatures, roughly twice their height serving with them in small numbers, and a few other obvious non-humans, such as a few troopers with scales or a great deal of fur on their arms and feet as well as less than half their compatriots height. This meant, seeming dedicated to exterminating other races, they were perfectly content to fight alongside them.
The Jedi cradled his head in his hands. None of this made any sense. A widely permissive culture that was dedicated to destroying others, a group of humans that was determined to exterminate other species yet fought beside them, what series of event could have possibly led to this coalition forming? Worse yet was their emotional states.
He was no expert at reading the feelings of others, but they were close now and he could feel the soldier's hearts. They were darker than any he had even encountered before, filled with hate, anguish, and sorrow, but also determination, comradery, and a blazing faith that stunned him the first time he had felt it. Whatever had happened to these people had left deeper scars than could likely be healed and left them as for the lack of a better word fanatics. Those were never easy to fight.
Ima-gun di looked up as he heard a pair of boots crunching gravel just in front of him. It was a clone captain, one that had seen better days. There were few spots on his armor that weren't scarred or blackened by the laser weapons of the enemy, and his helmet's visor had a crack running diagonally down the center. The brown markings that had originally made the armor distinctive were all burnt away, and there was a visible limp as the clone approached.
The clone saluted once he got into arms reach of the Jedi. "General, Sir, we've started moving the refugees to the back of the cave. The passage to Lessu has been cleared of all debris, so we should be able to make good time once we depart. Any word from the fleet?" The nikto shook his head slowly. "They'll be here, but enough about them, when was the last time you got some rest captain?"
The Jedi couldn't see the clone's face but could feel the grimace his whole body seemed project. "There will be plenty of time for that once the civilians are safe general" the clone said, with a note of defiance entering his voice at the end. Ima-gun di narrowed his eyes, trying to meet the clone's despite his inability to see them. "You can't do any good half asleep Keeli. Get some rest before I have to make it an order. You've more than earned it."
The clone captain peeled off his helmet, exposing his scowling face as he leaned forwards. "With all due respect sir, my brothers are dying out there and every second I'm out of it is one less second the enemy is delayed and one less second the Twilek have to escape!" He made as if to continue, but the General suddenly held up a hand to stop him. The nikto looked around, scanning for any sign of enemy activity. "Captain call the men back, I feel a disturbance in the force, as if it is trying to warn me about something".
"The men are back sir, remember you order a halt to the ambushes yourself to speed up the evacuation?" The clone paused, and then his eyes narrowed. "Have you slept at all since the invasion started sir? You look awful." He hadn't. In truth he was in much worse shape than the clone, but morale was already at rock bottom, so he couldn't show it. Many of his horns were chipped or broken, and he had several scars from close calls with the laser weapons of his opponents, but most of the damage was thankfully hidden by his now hole riddled Jedi robe. There was no way he would still be allowed to move about if the medics could see what was below it.
He sighed. The lack of sleep and mounting wounds were starting to get to him. Perhaps he had imagined the disturbance, perhaps-
He blinked, shaking his head. He was on the ground, how had he gotten there. He had just been sitting. There was muffled shouting on the edge of his senses. He could feel himself being lifted up, being carried and his blurry eyes finally seemed to recover from whatever had happened at about the same time his ears did. "It'll be okay sir, we'll get you out of here." He was concussed. Probably. It certainly felt like it.
The world around him was dyed orange. Pieces of stone were still tumbling down, followed by countless red beams and the occasional bright blue ball. The enemies had blown the ceiling he realized belatedly. They were shooting them now, like fish in a barrel. He could see the tents burning, hear the cries of trapped Twileks below the buildings that had once housed them, and smell the blood in the air.
He shrugged off Keeli, stumbling slightly as he tried to stand unaided. As the captain whirled around, concerned, he managed to wheeze out his likely final orders. "Captain" A breath "You must" a cough "MUST get the survivors to safety. We…we don't have any more time. The rest is up to you and Skywalker" Thinking was hard. Talking was hard. Definitely at least partially concussed. He shook his head, the force steadying his mind. It wouldn't last, but neither would he in all likelihood.
"Sir…" The clone hesitated, only to see the shapes of brown clad troops begin to descend on hastily tied ropes along the walls. "Yes sir. All right men, we're moving out, fighting retreat! Grab everyone you can and let's GO!" As the clone disappeared into the dust kicked up by the falling stones, Ima-gun Di smiled. They hadn't known each other long, but still he considered the man his friend. He was glad one of them would be getting out of this.
He turned and ran towards the nearest building, using the force to lift the rubble before pointing the survivors in the direction of the escaping clones. Again and again he did this, heading closer to the exit the whole time. He had to stay just outside the rapid advance of the troops, or he would be freeing the Twileks just for them to have them meet their ends at the hands of the invaders. But each stop took time, time he didn't have.
At last, with the exit in sight, they caught up with him. He first noticed them as red laser fire scythed down the Twileks he had just freed from the ruin of their home. As he turned to face them his lightsaber activated, flowing into positions the force guided it to and reflecting several shots back at his attackers. As they fell with surprised yells he reached out with the force and pulled a piece of large debris in front of him. Keeping it steady, he charged.
He couldn't tell what they were doing on the other side, but the piece of masonry shook as it was hit countless times during his advance. The street blurred as the force lent him speed and in seconds he was upon them. The piece of architecture flew forwards with one last push, crushing at least five of them as he pivoted and swing his lightsaber thrice, finishing the squad.
Already the next squad had him in their sights. He leaned back, letting a missile scream past him by but a few centimeters. The force warned him again, and he was airborne. Looking back he could see yet another squad tear apart the ground he had just been standing upon with a barrage of shots before their guns quickly swung around to track his movement. He landed on top of a ruined house and quickly jumped again into the middle of the new squad, hoping they would provide some cover from their comrade's fire.
As his lightsaber claimed the first two soldiers, the one with the most decorated uniform reached down and drew a screaming whirring blade that more resembled a chainsaw than anything sensible. The likely officer lunged at the Jedi as his back was turned, but he was to slow. The nikto threw out a hand and sent the man flying through the air with the force. The soldier impacted one of the many surrounding rubble piles with a crack and did not move again.
Another few blows finished the squad and as he did, Ima-gun di realized he was being ignored. The other squad from before had already disappeared and many more streamed past now in the direction of the exit. Even assuming all went well there were enough that he could not kill them faster than they were arriving at the opening, he needed a better way to distract them. Scanning the crowd, he saw what must be a high-ranking officer, a man with a long tattered coat and a archaic looking sword clutched in his hands.
If he killed the officer, a break down in the command chain would at lest hamper the enemy. This was the though that saw the Jedi blur towards the enemy officer, lightsaber raised to strike. The man must have heard him coming, as just before Ima-gun di could take his head he spun towards him and threw his blade into a practiced looking block. As the Jedi's lightsaber connected, the sword emitted some kind of glowing field, repelling the plasma blade.
Surprised, the Jedi was put on the backfoot when the officer lashed out with a kick that connected squarely with his stomach, bending the nikto over and staggering him. The jedi threw himself aside and grimaced as he felt an intense flash of heat. The officer had drawn a glowing pistol and fired it a second time, emitting a searing ball of energy. The nikto jumped over it and threw himself downwards with the force, barely escaping a volley of fire the human's escort threw at him as he did. The flying blow forced the human officer to his knees, allowing the Jedi time to take a breath and throw out a hand, scattering the man's escort.
As he did the nikto was distracted for the briefest of moments, allowing the officer to twist his blade and drive it forwards towards the Jedi's heart. The nikto dodged to the side and grabbed the arm as it passed, only to have his eyes widen as he saw the glowing pistol discharge from below said arm.
Forced to let go and jump back, the Jedi took the opportunity to pull some of the more unstable debris piles nearby down, isolating the two combatants. The human officer lunged as he did, he arm set aflame by the proximity to the glowing pistol's blast. Ima-gun di threw his arm up just in time to block it, but off balance from the effort to collapse the rubble he could not keep his hold on the blade and it flew away. The Jedi lept after it, desperate to reclaim his weapon and in doing so was unable to fully dodge them next blast.
Ima-gun di screamed as the near miss connected with his outstretched arm, destroying it and everything above the collarbone on that side in a blaze of heat. His robes ignited at the same time, but through force of will he managed to complete the roll and catch the falling lightsaber.
The nikto spun, just in time to parry a two handed downwards blow from the human officer. The human launched a flurry of strikes, coming down again and again in an effort to break the nikto's guard. As Ima-gun Di's knees hit the ground he lashed out with the strongest mind trick he could muster. It only stunned the man for half a second, but that was enough for the Jedi to lash out with an upward swing and leave a glowing gash across the officer's armor.
He had dodged backwards in time to avoid being split in two, but judging by the smell of burnt flesh not enough to avoid the blow. Now the officer was on the defensive, and a second blow split the front of the helmet he was wearing. As the human threw himself sideways to avoid a third downwards blow, the damaged helmet flew off revealing a snarling face and a very impressive set of facial hair.
The fourth blow was met with a block, and the fifth with a riposte. For the next minute the two exchanged blows, but as the fight continued Ima-gun Di could feel himself start to flag, his lack of rest beginning to cost him. A sweeping upward slash sent the Jedi stumbling backwards, and the returning downwards slash forced him into retreat. As he staggered backwards, just over the sound of the clashing energy fields he could hear the sound of machinery whining. The human must have a prosthetic.
The officer lashed out with another kick, this time dodged though with considerable effort. As the nikto brought his lightsaber down on the spot the leg had been second ago, he saw a massive shape crest the debris blockade he had created and start sprinting for the two. He was out of time, he had to finish this now.
Pulling on all the strength he could muster Ima-gun Di lashed out with a force push he could hear crumple the human's rib cage. Knowing this to be his last chance the nikto hurled himself forwards, barely avoiding the automatic slug thrower fire of the giant behind him as he came down on the human officer. A desperate deflection turned the slash into a stab, piecing the man's upper bicep. The human roared in pain and brought up the glowing pistol to fire another shot, sword arm still trapped. The shot went of prematurely, missing by a large margin but forcing the Jedi to stop his next slash, aimed at the human's head, due to the brightness of the blast. As the Jedi reeled, unable to see, he felt his lightsaber sweep through where the head should be yet meet no resistance. As the nikto opened his panicked eyes, he did so just in time to see the snarling officer drive his blade through his chest.
Ima-gun Di gasped, staggering backwards as the blade exited his chest and watched as the officer flicked the blood clear with a shaky flourish. The human staggered to his feet, only to be picked up by the giant that sprinted past the nikto. The officer protested weakly, but the giant ignored him and instead carried him over to the other humans that were just now clearing the barricade. The lead one quickly pulled out a dispenser of some kind and began spraying what looked like skin directly on the wound.
The world seemed to turn sideways as the Jedi fell over, no longer able to support his own weight. Splashing down into a pool of his own spreading blood he realized he could no longer breath. He had failed. All he could do now was hope he had bough enough time with the enemy scrambling to save their officer for the Twilek and the clones to get a good head start. 'Keeli' he thought as the darkness claimed him 'please, succeed where I failed. May the force be with you'.