Bo-Katan sat in the Mandalorian throne room, a deep, condensed anxiety manifesting as a shake bounce of her leg. It had been over a week since the Expeditionary Force was sent to the stations and a week since she had heard anything back from their wayward saviors. Despite the fact that the forces of Mandalore continued still to grow exponentially, their total forces numbering nearly 300,000 at this rate, the lack of naval and advanced technological support was certain to be a deathblow if and when the Imperium arrived in the system again.
The Pykes and the Hutts may have finally come through with their shipments of vehicles and advanced weaponry, things they needed to even stand a chance against the forces of the Imperium, but without the ancient fleet and the weapons it granted the coming war would, at best, end in a pyrrhic victory for the Imperium after a long, protracted war of attrition. She knew this, she had studied war her entire life, and she knew how grave the threat of the Imperium was.
Worse still, she remembered the outstanding tests they were doing with Imperial weapons and their own protection. Leaning over to the man who stood beside the throne, she asked Cor for the latest news on that front.
"Well, the tests are going as well as expected ma'am. The shipments we got of handheld Imperial Laser Weaponry show that most beskar plating, even alloys with as little as 5% fair a decent chance of stopping them. However, as you saw when we first fought those 'Space Marines…' Their slug throwers are a different story."
"It depends mostly on the slug thrower, normal bullets behave much like their laser weapons so most of our troops are fine in that regard, but their boltguns are completely different. When hit, pretty much anything below 50% beskar breaks on impact, not immediately fatal. Worse still is anything below 10% behaves like you aren't even wearing armor. The only things we've seen to completely absorb or deflect and survive multiple direct hits are armors with over 70% beskar purity. Probably why you aren't dead now, Lady Kryze." Cor said bluntly, looking over to the Mandalorian Leader's shoulder.
"Make sure all high-ranking and essential personnel have armor up to snuff. I want you to order my personal guard as well to upgrade their armor, get as much beskar as possible, and make new suits if needed. Anything below 70% purity is not acceptable and I will not allow my own men to die needless deaths if and when the Imperials come for me. That includes you too, Cor." Bo-Katan replied.
"Yes, Ma'am. Is there anything else you need any updates on?" Cor replied, already knowing what the anxiety-riddled Bo-Katan was going to ask.
"Any word on the 4th Expeditionary Fleet Acquisition?" Bo asked plainly, trying her best to mask her worry.
"No, unfortunately. With all due respect Ma'am, with how long this acquisition is taking, I think it may be necessary to reach out to either the Republic or the Separatists for aid." Cor responded pain in his voice knowing what Bo would say next.
"No, Cor. We must continue to hold out hope that our forces will prevail. We cannot rely on others for our protection." She slid towards Cor, looking him directly in his eyes. "We are Mandalorians, Cor. There is still much for you to learn about us. Mandalore must rise by itself. We protect our own."
Cor simply nodded in response.
0
Sitting on the deck of one of the carrier ships within the ancient and blood-stained hanger bay, Darman scribbled notes onto a data-slate, a journal, and a patchwork series of letters for someone else. A slate he had for his entire life, gifted to him personally by his biological father, Jango Fett, but one he rarely wrote in despite that. This was one of the rare occasions he felt he needed to.
"Entry 51 -"
"It's been a week since the attack on the hanger. We didn't even have space for most of the dead when things were done and over, had to do multiple ad-hawk Mandalorian funeral services because of that. It all kinda went by in a blur, multiple people sent into the void all at once. The only body we didn't send out was Corr's. Kal insisted we keep him in one of the ships until we can give him a proper burial, and with how bad things have been going I am not optimistic about the chances of that happening any time soon."
"We've been trapped in this hanger for the entirety of the time since the attack, Kal's orders that we stay here and prepare for a siege until further notice. We set up traps at every single entrance and exit to this damned death box, we've only had one ever go off when a proximity mine blew the leg off of one of the alien attackers attempting to scout us out I think. That's not to say the exits and entrances to this place haven't been busy, quite the opposite really."
"Atin managed to get rudimentary communications up using the station's in-built lines. All we can do at the moment is send morse code, but it's damned better than being in the dark the entire time. Atin even managed to get most of the forces that arrived here at the station here to this hanger by the grace of The Mines. Got our numbers boosted back up to 80 now, some even brought a Saber and more speeders."
"Unfortunately, the reinforcements we got might be all that's left. Lines have been dead ever since Atin got these guys here, and that's not for a lack of trying on Atin's part either. At best, the rest are probably held up in hallways or somewhere else without a panel or a console, or anyone to hot-wire power to it. At worst, and what's more likely here, they're dead. Insane for me to imagine in all honesty, we came here over 250 strong, but now we're barely beating 80. It's like Geonosis all over again."
"Squad's been a wreck, as you can imagine. Fi's been quiet, no jokes from him or anything. Niner's been constantly cleaning his armor and weapons, I think he wants to be prepared for if and when anything like that happens again. Atin's been well, just Atin, he's never been the type of guy to care much about this sort of thing. Kal's been a total wreck, he refuses to leave the ship for anything at all, the only time he does leave is to get ration bars. I think he blames himself for what happened. As for me, I'm gonna be honest, you know me, I don't like talking about my feelings but, losing Corr hit me harder than I could have possibly imagined. He might have been the newbie, but he was my brother, and I loved him deeply."
"I don't know how much longer we are going to be here. It could be weeks, it could be months. Supplies aren't an issue, those old civvie carriers hold a lot and the, now belated, commander was clearly some sort of survivalist. Put enough rations and water here to last us years."
"With that all said, I know, I hope we will win this and if we can't we will die trying. Mandalorians never back down, and the threat we face is too grave for us to back down from. I know I will see you again, love. If not in this life, then the next. Please, tell Venku I miss him too, yes I know he can't understand us just yet, but, you know I'd love the thought."
"Love - Darman Skirata."
Darman relaxed as he finished the note, sitting back against the dura-steel wall of the carrier ship, plastoid armor rustling. He had about 4 more hours left until it was his turn to go on guard duty, and he damn well knew he was gonna spend those hours he had left getting some much-needed shut-eye. As he slowly began to drift off to the sleep he not only wanted but needed, he heard a loud bang next to his head.
Jolting awake, he saw the form of Niner standing over him, almost panting as he began to speak.
"Darman, get your ass up now." Niner told the Commando.
"Why? It's not even my turn for guard duty." Darman almost muttered to his commander, the lack of sleep finally catching up to the newly on-edge Clone.
"Because Atin found something that could give us the upper hand and get us out of this shithole." Upon hearing this, Darman's eyes went wide as he reached for his helmet and placed it over his head. The glowing blue T-shaped visor activated as he stood up. Running out of the carrier ship alongside Niner, they both finally made it over to the form of Atin and Fi, still standing over the form of the hanger's ancient control console, a jerry-rigged holo-pad, and screen attached to it.
"Well, looks like sleepy-head joined the party." Atin said sarcastically as he fidgetted with the keyboard on the far left side of the console.
"Cut to the chance, Atin." Darman replied, slightly annoyed.
"Well, what do you wanna hear first? Good news or bad news." Atin said, a smile creeping across his helmeted face.
"Good news."
"Well, I found a massive warehouse, connected to an armory. And, it's packed full of goodies. I'm talking Basilisk War Droids, Hunter Killer Assassin Droids, Gunner Droids, and the entire Droid crew this station was supposed to have. What's better is the armory is packed too, got everything from Ripper Guns to Auto-Disruptors" Atin said, clearly gitty with excitement.
"And the bad news?"
"Well… Its clear across the station. 400 Klicks east and about 10 down."
Darman cursed to himself, the only way they could get across the station and to the warehouse was by using speeders and tanks. Meaning, they wouldn't be able to just pack up and leave with everyone here. Leaving people here would mean they'd be open for an attack, which, the enemy was undoubtedly preparing for.
Not only this but traveling that quickly across the station would raise new risks for them as well. The enemy very well could set up an ambush, and in all likelihood probably already has. They were fucked here, to put it mildly.
"We can't go." Darman replied, his squadmates staring at him.
"Since when were you the commander?" Fi replied, staring down at his brother. Atin nodded in agreement.
Niner soon butted in, however. "You neglected to inform me of that little factoid, so I'm more inclined to hear Darman out here. That being said, Darman, you aren't the commander here. I am, I have the final say. But go ahead and continue."
Darman nodded simply. "If we leave our comrades here we leave them open for an attack, one that is probably already being planned by the enemy as we speak."
"So? What makes you think they aren't going to attack with us here anyways." Atin replied, now leaning against the console. "Even if they can't now they can just wait for us to starve first. Us wasting our time cooped up here is just going to get us killed either way."
"Because they haven't yet. They are preparing for us to make our move first, if we act before they do we'll be caught off guard and killed before we can even get close to the warehouse." Darman replied, a slight anger in his voice. "Our only way there is the speeders and tanks we have too, this enemy has been in this station for Mines know how long, they probably have ambushes set up at every hallway and every junction here."
As Atin prepared to make a retort back, he was cut off suddenly by the sound of an old man's somber voice. "We are going to take the warehouse, and we don't need speeders or tanks to do it."
Looking over their shoulders, the clones saw the form of their father, dressed in his beskar plate and hefting a blaster rifle and a Disruptor in both hands.
"Pa, with all due respect, how the hell are we going to do that?" Atin retorted a slight anger in his voice.
"Simple." The old man pointed towards one of the carrier ships he stood behind. "The forces we fight appear not to have many starship capabilities if any at all. If they did, they would have just blown us out of the void before we even docked here. We can bypass whatever traps these attackers have set up by working our way across the station. Once we are close enough, we'll use the ship's escape pods to dock to the station, then we'll work our way to the warehouse. From there we will activate the Droids and use our newly acquired firepower to work our way back here and regroup."
"...Then we can finally take the control room." Darman finished the thought.
"Exactly." Kal said, nodding his helmeted head.
"So when do we head out, Pa?" Niner asked, looking at the Mandalorian standing in front of him.
"Here in an hour. Get your weapons ready, we will be going in hot."