Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars
Note: Apologies for the slight delay in this chapter. I made some last minute plans and ended up being out all day on Saturday. This chapter sees the return of the action. Thanks to all me reviewers/readers/subscribers etc... you're all wonderful! And again, thanks to my beta Liisiko who helps make these chapters so much better!
CHAPTER 14 - Extermination
Location - Selonia / XF-32
The water was cold and dark and it took Retto's breath away.
Muffled slightly by the water, but still loud, were the sounds of his powerful strokes, though not as loud as the heavier, larger females drawing up all around him. Retto tried to ignore them as he pressed on, kicking his hind legs to propel himself deeper into the sea.
His task was simple: guide the females to the underwater entrance and leave them to their work. Easy. Shamefully easy, in fact. He wouldn't even need to rush. He could hold his breath for ten minutes, if required and the females perhaps slightly longer than that. They wouldn't let him come with them, of course. After all…he was no warrior.
He was a male. A breeder. A possession of the queen's.
Nostrils closed against the onrush of water, he picked up speed and twisted agilely, leveling off to swim beneath an arch of pearl-white coral. Holding his glaive pinned against his stomach, he tilted downwards again, using hind-legs and tail to quicken his descent. Around him the females followed and there, out of the dark, loomed the corpse of the ship. It was a monstrous, angular thing with a face of twisted, ruined metal. Huge geysers of bubbles choked up from a number of gaping tears – including the badly crippled bridge.
He slowed his momentum and lifted a clawed hand, indicating the bridge with the very tip of the obsidian glaive.
Lesew gave him a sharp nod and, all at once, the armed females surged forwards, the sound of their charge deafening.
The young male – not wanting to be left behind – picked up the pace again, diving down after them. But, by the time he reached the opening in the bridge, they were already inside. Only Lesew paused to cast a look back at him, pointing back up to the sky with a snarl. He understood the meaning all too well. He was a male – and a young one at that – and there was no place for him. Not here.
He floated weightlessly in the depths of the sea, the pressure tight against his chest, and watched them merge with the shadow. The sound of their movement in the sea grew quiet and, after a moment, he swam down towards the bridge, clinging to a twisted girder to hold him in place. The ship groaned in warning and he hesitated— but only for a moment. After all…it couldn't hurt to take a quick peek, could it?
Casting any doubts aside, Retto slipped through the gaping tear in the bridge and allowed himself to float slowly across the ruined chamber; full of water, void of life. He tried to imagine what it would have looked like before it had come to settle in its watery grave. Full of lights and humans and surrounded by a sea of stars. A marvel.
By this time, Retto had crossed the expanse of the room and had reached one of the passages leading deeper into the structure. It was the decreasing breath in his lungs that hurried him – rather than his fear of the dark and the loud creaks and groans of the sunken wreck. Navigating the ruined tunnel took a surprising amount of agility, particularly when done at great speed, his long, thin body twisting this way and that to avoid broken pieces of metal and containers that had dropped through from other levels. Spinning up through one of the gaps in the ceiling, he spotted an unnatural blue light touching upon the water above. A moment later and he broke through the surface. He spluttered noisily as he threw his glaive onto the floor and dragged himself out of the water.
Then there was silence – save the steady dripping of water running from his fur.
The room was tilted at an odd angle and above his head the one remaining light sputtered angrily, casting flickering squares of light across the floor and walls. Deep within the ship's belly, a distant crash echoed. The sound of it rattled beneath Retto's splayed toes. Up ahead – down one of the ruined corridors – he heard a shuffle of movement – and bent to retrieve his glaive from the ground; holding it up defensively. He was not particularly strong or skilled. He was average in height and probably below average in intelligence. He had yet to sire a litter. Yet to prove his worth to the den. But to prove his worth, he only need to provide children. He shouldn't have been in a dark ship. He should have been swimming back to the shore, preparing to hide with the others in the safety of the sealed dens. A part of him almost wanted to be there, too. But there was another part of him that wanted to stay. To prove to the females that he could be useful in other aspects of Selonian life.
He took a slow step forwards, mounting the rubble that filled the main corridor, and crawled through the narrow opening between ceiling and carnage. The going was tough. A spike of metal carved a fiery line into the small of his back, forcing him to flatten himself further. Hooking his claws on the edges of the metal proved useful in dragging himself through the decreasing gap. Some of the fallen panels shifted dangerously underfoot; tipping him sideways into the wall.
Surely the females had not come this way?
Was it better for him if they had not?
Without warning, a piece of grating came loose beneath his hands. He pitched forwards, the glaive jamming firmly and wrenching free from his grip. The unexpected motion jarred his shoulder as he crashed headlong into the floor.
He tried – and failed – to muffle a cry of pain. Stars flashed briefly in his eyes, sending his head into a momentary spin. He almost expected to hear Lesew's angry shriek, screaming at him to go back the way he came. But there was no one there.
The room he had fallen into was small, round and filling with water from a gouged hole in the flooring. There were no lights on at all but Retto's eyes worked best in darkness. In fact, looking around, there weren't any lights on in the corridors beyond, either. Perhaps the generator for this deck had given out?
Staggering back to his feet, he turned back to work his glaive free, only to find it stuck fast. Growling, he set both hands on the shaft – side by side – and planted his hind feet up against the wall of debris; putting his whole weight into the effort. His efforts were rewarded with a horrible cracking sound which resounded throughout the chamber. And, as the weapon came free, Retto was bowled roughly backwards, striking the back of his head against the floor panels.
He saw the flashing lights again.
In his hands, he held the broken fragments of his weapon. The shaft had split right through the center; splintered and sharp and completely impossible to repair in his current predicament. The balance of the weight for each half was off; one bearing the obsidian spearhead and the other a cluster of vicious barbs. Now, they felt as graceless as a mace or a club and he swung them testily. Duel-wielding was not the Selonian way, but he was also reluctant to cast one piece away lest he come to need it later.
A distant whirring sound drew his attention.
It was not the call of a Selonian, nor the strange, garbled voice of the Jedi warrior. Neither was it the mere groans of a dying ship. It sounded—well, actually, it reminded Retto of an insect; a very large, winged insect. But whatever it was, it was moving fast, the horrible drone growing louder and louder until he felt that his ears might burst.
Then there was light.
It streamed down the corridor, pooling into the room with an intensity that rivaled the sun.
And Retto – with his sensitive eyes – was rendered blind, lifting an arm to cast a shadow across his face. Even that was not enough.
Blind from the light and disorientated by the incessant droning, Retto did not recognize the threat until it was too late. The beam of light – with its wide arc – focused in on him, becoming a thin line that touched down on the center of his chest. The droning became a strange mechanical clicking sound and, in that moment, fear flared.
The Selonian tried to throw himself sideways, but the first of the laser fire caught him in the shoulder; sending him spinning to the ground.
He was still lying on the floor, in the throes of agony, when the second round of fire hit its mark.
Kota had left the shuttle behind in the pilot's care with only one piece of advice: "At any sign of trouble, get the ship away from here." Then he and his newly acquired troupe dropped down through a huge, broken hatch and into the ship.
"Weapons at the ready, men." Kota growled. "And watch your step."
Behind him, the men activated the lights mounted on their protective headgear and stepped up alongside him, fanning out to scan the huge chamber – its use unknown, as it was empty save for a scattering of broken containers. The beam of a sniper rifle tracked across the shadowed floor. It was one of theirs.
Giving the signal, Kota leapt across the room, flattened against the far wall and peered down into the curved walkway beyond. His Force vision allowed him to see whether in the dark or not, giving him a clear advantage over anything else that might be lurking in the gloom.
The way was clear and he beckoned the men to follow him, leading the way with sure and confident steps.
By now he was certain that the Selonians were making their way steadily through the lower levels of the ship. The com-link had remained ominously silent, but in this case, he hoped that no news meant good news.
"You think only the Sith is in here, Sir?" One of the men ventured, his voice coarse.
"Hard to say." Kota did not trust that the mission would go so easily. In his experience, such things rarely did.
The com-link crackled. "Giles to Kota. Do you copy?" It was the pilot.
"Go ahead, Giles."
"I'm getting some strange readings on the motion sensors, Sir."
"The Selonians?"
"Could be, Sir, but I think it unlikely."
Kota gritted his teeth. "Care to share your theories?"
The pilot hastened. "Too many to be just the Selonians. There is something else on that ship. From the readings, I'd hazard a guess that they're droids."
"Which decks?"
"Hard to say for certain. The lower decks are showing the greatest readings, but they're dotted across the entire ship."
"Thanks for the warning." Kota cut the transmission, hooking the link back to his belt. "You heard him, men, be extra vigilant."
Suddenly the ship seemed to have gained a threatening presence. Any strange sound or imagined movement had them twitching nervously, seeking the shadows with their eyes. Kota's hand was set firmly across the hilt of his sheathed saber; ready to draw at the slightest sign of trouble. With their current passage blocked, they were forced to take an unprecedented detour, breaking through a vent cover and crawling down through the ducts which were – mostly – intact.
Kota paused at each grate beneath him to peer into the rooms below, each one dark and some filling with water from passages that had already flooded. After perhaps fifty meters of crawling in the confined space, the vent began to widen out, dropping sharply for about five meters. The leap was not difficult for the Jedi, who was forced to aid his companions with a cushion of Force to slow their descent and avoid broken limbs that – down here – could prove fatal.
Using the Force, Kota pried the grate away from the exit of the venting system and set it down with care. The low thump of it meeting the floor was, thankfully, barely audible beneath the sound of flowing water.
"Jak, cover us with sniper fire from here."
"Yes, Sir."
Trusting the others would follow him, Kota led the way quietly across the huge room. This was a smaller docking bay – its doors closed tightly. Three huge cranes had toppled, bringing down power cables and other apparatus which now littered the floor. On the far side, water was pooling in from one of the higher passageways, streaming down across the floor to gather at the lowest point. Some of the power cables still sparked and hissed and Kota was wary of possible electrocution. Two small and ruined shuttles had dragged across the floor during the crash and lay in ruins. Kota stepped across the wings, seeking higher ground to get a better view of their surroundings.
Behind him the men fanned out, turning constantly to ensure all angles were covered, fingers ready on the triggers of their blasters.
"All clear." Kota informed, drawing in a short breath. He could not help but feel uneasy. As if…as if they were being watched. But he could no longer feel the presence of Vader's new apprentice. He had expected to, once he entered the ship, but there was nothing. Nothing at all.
A sharp crack resounded, followed by a terrified scream.
Kota whirled.
"Almar!"
A distant cry of agony filtered up and Kota's heavy boots rang against the metal grids. "What happened?"
"Almar. He fell through the floor!"
Others came charging over to help.
"Watch your step. Watch your step!" Kota warned, his voice uncomfortably loud.
Thankfully they listened, skidding to a halt on the treacherous flooring.
"Almar!" One of the other soldiers was yelling, crawling across the deck to peer over the edge of the gaping hole. "You alright, buddy?"
"No. No. I can't move!"
"Hang on; we're coming to get you." He lifted his head to peer across at Kota – his torch highlighting the hard edges of the General's face. "Aren't we, Sir?"
"We'll try and find a way down."
The com-link buzzed again and Kota lifted the device. "Kota here."
"Jedi!" It was Lesew.
"Lesew? What are—uh—Sith? You found the Sith?"
"No. No Sith. No." Her voice was rushed and just before she was cut off – she'd switched into her native tongue. Staring down at the silent device, Kota barely had time to consider the meaning of what she had been trying to convey before a warning shout echoed through the chamber.
"Get DOWN!"
The old Jedi leapt back to his feet, the saber coming to life in his hand.
The droids had come from nowhere.
From what Lesew could tell, they were low-flying things and spherical in shape – until they started firing. Then they seemed to transform – legs folding out from their bellies to lock them to the ground. Then the harmless, bright-eyed droids became turrets with incredible and devastating firepower.
Her second-in-command had died in her arms – caught in the head and chest by the first wave of the droids. And there, kneeling by her side, she had attempted to make contact with the Jedi—and failed. They had not planned for this. They had not planned for what to say if an enemy – other than the Sith – was found here in the dark confines of the ruined ship.
She did not know the word for what these things were.
And then the second wave had come.
She dropped her friend's body to the ground, swinging her glaive up into a defensive posture. By luck, the shot meant for her, bounced from the flat of the obsidian blade, reflecting it back and giving her time to pounce through the gap to land a kill. They had learned, quickly, that attacking the drones in close combat was the way to victory. They were more like mobile turrets than actual droids, and when their targets came close, their guns seemed to become inoperative.
Floundering and unable to attack, it was only a matter of cracking through their shells to destroy the circuits hidden beneath.
Unfortunately, unless you were lucky – or incredibly skilled – you were usually dead or badly wounded before being able to get in close.
Lesew brought the jagged edge of her glaive down, splintering shell and weapon both. She lanced again, working the blade deep through into the electronics.
The droid exploded, the armored shards like glass; embedding in her unprotected body.
Squealing in rage and pain, she whipped around to aid her team. Another had fallen, back arched in pain, glaive waving in the air to ward off another attack. The turret-droids zoned in on her and turned her to ribbons.
Lesew, with an angry battle cry, lunged again, crashing headlong into the closest turret. Unfortunately, the legs locked into the flooring so that they could not be simply pushed over. It was like slamming into a wall. One of the Selonians jumped towards them and the turrets aimed and fired. Their laser-fire lanced through her torso like a hot knife through butter and, the ceiling caved in, falling down to crush her lifeless body.
The stormy sky opened up above them. Letting in the grey sky. Letting in the rain.
Lesew drove forwards, cutting the next droid deep in a single thrust.
She caught a glancing blow across her shoulder and moved to defend herself. But a comrade was there to aid her, using the barbs of her glaive to prise off the shell and expose the vulnerable circuitry beneath. She reached in and tore the wires from the droid's body, shrieking with battle-lust.
Then it was over.
"Check the bodies." Lesew ordered, though she knew it would be a futile effort. Of the twenty Selonians, only fourteen now remained; the others lying lifeless all around them. The survivors shook their heads grimly and no one spoke.
"Let's—" She paused, tilting her ears back. "More are coming. Everybody down. Get down."
They flattened themselves to the floor, pressing close to the bodies of their fallen companions or the rubble that had fallen in on them during the fight.
The drones came.
The drones passed.
Like insects, they swarmed through the room, not even pausing before rising up to fly up through the gaping hole in the side of the ship. Out into the stormy world.
"Where do they go?" One warrior dared to ask.
Lesew blinked. "They go to fight."
Terreef had shown Galen the huge 'doors' that could be rolled across the entrances of the dens via a complicated looking pulley system. She had also assured him that gentle application of the Force would not ruin the mechanics. Even still, it was with very slow and gentle pressure that Galen used to shift the doors into the closed position, not liking the sound of the creaking cables. From just inside the entrances, faces peered back at him. Afraid, curious and uncertain. He watched the shadow fall across their eyes before the door came down and severed their line of sight.
He could not help but feel partially responsible for what had happened. He had brought this down upon them. This danger; this fear. Kota was right. They needed to protect the people here. It was their duty.
Turning back, he met each pair of eyes in turn. Twenty-two in all. These were the volunteers, the ones who were risking their lives in order to protect the others. All were female and all of them were far taller than him, with their clawed hands fastened tightly on their weapons. Some bore the scars of past battles but none of them wore any kind of armor to protect themselves. Yet, they stood upright and proud and courageous. Their large eyes were calm and respectful. They could have been the eyes of Jedi.
"We can dig trenches in the soil to create cover." Galen started, knowing full well that they wouldn't be able to understand him. Somehow it just felt better to talk his thoughts through.
He felt for the Force lying dormant in the sand, waiting to be called, and gave it life. With a pushing motion of his hands, he carved into the sand with no effort at all, cutting a deep scrape in the shore and leaving the shifted sand to act as a wall to further protect them from unfriendly eyes. Thankfully, the Selonians were quick to follow his lead. Their claws were adept at cutting through the sand, creating huge trenches with little effort at all. Within minutes, every soldier had carved herself a masking shelter in the sand. It would not save their lives if they were hit directly but it could offer them some cover and the advantage of surprise.
"How are you getting on?" Juno's voice crackled over the link.
"Fine—though this would go a lot easier if they could understand me."
"Leading by example seems to work."
He turned to throw a glance across at the Rogue Shadow and wished he was there with her. Not out on the shore in the hazy rain. "Have you readied the ship for takeoff?"
"Already done." She quipped.
"Then get yourself up in the air, Eclipse." His voice was firm but teasing.
"Don't take that authoritative tone with me, Marek." She teased back, though he could hear the tension creep into her voice. She was worrying already. "If it gets too hot, I'll be pulling you out of there."
"I'll let you know." And then, with a more concerned tone: "Any word from Kota?"
"Not yet."
He heard the engines fire up and, reluctantly, turned his attention back to the soldiers. Some had already hunkered down in their hollows, pressed against the wall of sand that concealed them from view. Others stood; silent sentries gazing out to sea. He stepped up alongside them and pointed towards the newly dug trenches. "Stay." He hoped they would understand.
"Galen!"
He startled. "Juno?"
"I'm picking up readings on the sensors."
"Readings? What sort of readings?"
"A dozen—missiles? No, wrong heat intensity. Wait, getting a visual." She paused. "Droids. Galen, they're heading straight for you. At their velocity they'll be on you in moments."
"PROXY. Have we come across these before?"
"No, Master. Nothing in the data. It would be safe to assume that they are attack droids."
"And they're flying?"
"Yes." The droid confirmed.
"Juno, take the ship up. Stay out of their firing range."
"No. I can provide air support."
"Juno—"
"—Here they come!"
And through the hazy rain, they appeared; dark orbs shining from the rain, gliding with a smooth and unhindered movement. Not even the increasing winds seemed to slow or divert them.
Around him the Selonians had not yet spotted the danger. Their eyesight was poor and their nostrils were filled with the scent of sea and rain. He pointed to the sky and roared. "Danger! Enemy!" And though it was incorrect: "Sith!" They reacted instantly, readying their weapons; the last few dropping down into the trenches to seek cover.
Galen stepped forwards to meet the tide; foam-flecked waves lapping at the toes of his boots. Automatically, he reached for the power of the Force and drew it up to aid him; curling his fingers to concentrate its energy. Then he waited. Blue lightning crackled briefly across his forearms but still he waited. The looming forms of the droids came closer and only when they were within reach did he release the energy. Electricity burst forth from the tips of his fingers, igniting the drops of rain and snapping angrily against the waves. He could feel the power crackling across his skin and then the pulses of energy as the bolts struck true. Five of the droids were engulfed and three of them plummeted into the sea. The remaining two plowed on relentlessly and, only at the last moment, did Galen drop his stance and roll to the side, narrowly avoiding being rundown by the persistent little attackers.
Rolling across the sand, he found his feet again and blasted a spear of Force power across at them. This did cause them to falter, both dropping to the ground – but not because they were defeated. Four legs folded out from their once circular forms, stabbing deep into the sand beneath them. And, with a strange whirring, their mounted lasers kicked into action.
Thankfully the previous attacks had caused some damage. Their aim went wild, the hail of bullets kicking up clouds of sand; leaving deep pockmarks in the shore.
The sound of fire echoed somewhere behind him, followed by a cry of pain. He raised a wall of Force and shoved it roughly forwards. The legs – buried deep in sand – wrenched upwards and set both droids off balance.
"More incoming! Two o'clock!" Juno reported. "I'm bringing the ship around."
Galen had no time to argue.
Throwing himself clear of blaster fire, he rolled, regained his feet and lunged forwards. His hand snapped back, the hilt of his saber cradled there in his palm. With a sharp twist, he raised the lightsaber and thumbed the activation switch. The brilliant, blue blade sliced through the air; hissing and steaming in the rain.
The Rogue Shadow roared overhead, its fire ripping across the ground, hitting the droids across from him; turning them to dust.
Galen leapt in to finish off any that might have survived and above him the ship turned on a wingtip and surged out across the sea to meet with the second wave of droids.
Behind him the sound of combat drew his attention and he whirled back to help defend the Selonians from the droids that remained. Already one of the warriors lay dead – or dying – in her trench. Around her, others had grouped up to confuse the turrets' targeting, whilst others huddled in their defensive positions and lanced out at any droids that came close by.
Galen tightened his grip on his saber and charged into the fray.
Three men dead and another seriously wounded.
This mission was not going well. And, if Lesew's last transmission was anything to go by, things were not looking good with her group, either.
Kota had been unable to contact her since her last transmission had been cut, though he hoped it was because she'd chosen to go dark rather than meeting an untimely end.
His pilot had also informed him that some of the attack droids had broken free of the ship and were heading in the direction of the Selonian den site. Kota hoped that Galen would be ready for the trouble heading his way.
"The Rogue Shadow has engaged." Giles informed over the com-link.
Kota mumbled inaudibly under his breath in response.
"Sir?" One of his men cast him a questioning look. Kota waved it off.
"Sir! There's something up ahead!"
"Sniper. With me." Motioning Jak forward, they descended together down a short flight of stairs. There, he signaled for the man to halt and went on alone, into the dark. On the far side, a large metal grid had fallen across the open doorway. A fizz of electric cables lit up the room beyond with unpredictable, flickering light.
With a grunt, he used the Force to pull the grid back away from the door – moving it just enough to pass by. Then, after a moment of listening to silence, he signaled for the others to follow with a wave of his emerald saber. When he turned back it was to see a soft light emanating from the corridor he had just opened up.
Frowning, Kota stalked forwards, sweeping out an arm to emphasize his next order: "Spread out, men. I need all those exits covered." Not wasting time, he loped up to the raised platform and leaned over the display. In the center of the screen a timer flared.
"Giles, you read me?"
"I read you, General."
"I'm going to need your help slicing into the mainframe." He set his jaw, suddenly wishing that he had arranged for PROXY to come with them.
"I can try."
"You'd better do more than just 'try' if you want to get off of this planet alive." His patience was waning. "I need you to find out what this is counting down to."
"A countdown, Sir?"
"That is what I just said, isn't it?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"—Less talk, more work." Kota interrupted, tapping his fingers across the keys in a lame attempt at unlocking the console. A warning flared vibrantly and – as if burnt – he snatched his hands away. "Any luck?"
"Not yet…" The pilot already sounded harassed.
"General." The sniper hissed. "Someone's coming."
Kota turned, blade firing up in his hand as he bounded across the room; dropping into a crouch by the door. If it was the clone then he needed to be ready. It would be a fight of words that would win this for him, not strength. And, against a mad clone, it was a powerful weapon indeed.
He reached out into the corridor with the Force and there, hidden in darkness, came six figures. Their forms were illuminated as they moved towards them.
Selonians.
"Weapons down. It's Lesew." His face was grim. "There are few of them left."
They drew back away from the corridor and, when the sound of their clawed feet became audible, Kota called out to them.
"Jedi?" The voice was hoarse and filled with pain.
"Jedi." Kota confirmed.
And then, out of the dark, the last of the Selonian warriors came. Lesew and another held a wounded one between them. Three others trailed behind. All were injured but some far worse than others.
"I am sorry." Kota apologized.
Lesew looked up. Her fur was damp from another recent plunge and her face was badly scored. Her chest and stomach had been peppered with shards of broken droid. The wounds oozed thick with blood. She sagged to one knee to relieve herself of the weight of her injured companion and her helper followed.
"Sith?" Lesew questioned wearily.
"No. No Sith." Kota knelt, pressing a hand to the base of the unconscious Selonian's throat. No pulse fluttered beneath his finger tips. She was dead. He looked up and Lesew saw all she needed to in his expression. Dipping her head, she let the body of her fallen comrade come to rest on the cold, hard floor.
Lesew spoke slowly in her native tongue. As one, the survivors pressed their glaives over their hearts and bowed their heads. Kota and his men bowed their heads, too.
It was with great reluctance, however, that he was forced to interrupt the memorial silence. "Lesew…"
Her ears twitched before falling flat and she lifted her ruined face to look at him.
"You must go."
She continued to stare, not comprehending his words.
Kota grabbed her shoulder and gave it a rough shake, not at all intimidated by her towering height as she stood. "Go. Leave. Run. Not Sith. Go up to the ship. Go back to your people."
"No underst—"
"—Lesew!" Kota snarled. "Go!"
Her brows furrowed but the message seemed to have gotten through. She swept a look over her remaining warriors and drew up her shoulders with determination. She took a moment to collect herself and then she gave a barking order and the survivors drew closer still.
Her eyes snapped back to Kota's face and they were filled with steely determination. Then, as one, they moved on through the room and disappeared.
Kota wasn't sure whether she was leading them to safety or leading them to battle. He hoped it was the former. Hoped they managed to reach the ship and get to safety. Too many Selonian lives had been lost already.
"Sir? Won't we need their help?"
"No. Not anymore." He turned back to the console. "Giles? Any news?"
"…Yes, Sir. But—it's not good."
"It never is."
"Still no word from Kota?" Galen growled, arching his blade to fend off yet another droid.
"No." Juno sounded preoccupied and, looking up, he could see why. Three droids had intercepted her flight path and the Rogue Shadow tilted swiftly to avoid suffering any real damage.
Wiping the rain from his eyes, he stepped back up into formation.
The latest wave of orb-shaped droids had been accompanied by smaller scuttling droids that had hitched rides on their flying counterparts. They darted about underfoot, attempting to herd up the 'prey' for the turrets to shoot down. Galen crushed one beneath his boot and it spasmed wildly, lashing him beneath the knee; drawing blood. He kicked it aside and plunged forwards with the others, all directing their attacks on the same droid.
By expanding a field of Force energy, Galen had managed to keep everyone on their feet – save two. The downside was that it was a tiring ability. It took a lot of focus to sustain the defense of his team as well as press the attack. Thankfully, the Selonians were not hesitant in their advance.
Above his head, fire bloomed; the Rogue Shadow, having landed a successful volley of blaster fire, rolled to avoid the third remaining droid.
Galen tried not to notice the plume of smoke trailing from the ship's left wing.
One arm snapped forwards, driving Force power up through the air; engulfing the small, armored droid. It was easy to pull the floating turret from the sky, slamming it into the waves.
Behind him, a Selonian screeched with pain and he turned to see another wave of droids descending. One of the warriors lay prone on the ground – suffering from deep lacerations from the 'herder' droids. Her comrades had already moved in to surround and protect her, though it left them vulnerable to attack.
"How many more of these things are there?" Galen called out, hastening to join them.
Up above: "I'm coming around for another attack."
"How's the ship holding up?" He swung his saber, swatting a droid roughly from the air. It gouged deep into the sand, trailing black smoke and fizzling angrily.
"She's fine."
"PROXY?"
"The Captain is correct, Master." The droid reported without missing a beat.
He heard Juno's exasperated huff over the link.
With a wry twist of his mouth, Galen shoved through the Selonian huddle and took the lead, swinging the vibrant blade with fluid grace. The droids turned towards him, their glowing 'eyes' flaring as they dropped to the ground; legs finding purchase, weaponry calibrating.
The rain fell.
Blasters fired.
The high keening of the lightsaber as it swung pierced the stormy winds, deflecting each shot with lightning fast reflexes. Some went hissing back into the waves, others into the air or burning into the grey sand. One hit a droid, though it bounced harmlessly off of that smooth, thick shell. The same shot carved a deep hole into the sand just in front of Galen's feet.
"Transmission from Kota's shuttle." Juno's voice sounded tense. The ship dipped low over their heads, tilted sharply to avoid blaster fire and released a missile that punched into rabble of approaching droids. It banked steeply into a barrel roll and then pulled level.
Galen peered through the rain, leaping in to defend the unprotected back of a Selonian warrior.
"Galen."
He inhaled sharply, spinning the blade around his hand to defend against more incoming fire.
"They found a bomb."
It took him a moment for the words to sink in, and then: "A what?"
"A bomb. They're trying to disarm it."
"Why? Wait—where's the clone?" His voice strained as he disengaged with one foe to strike at another. A herder droid leapt for him and he knocked it back; catching the brunt of its attack on his defending forearm. The collision sent a bolt of pain through his shoulder injury. Even breathing was becoming more difficult now; each intake of air burning painfully in his chest.
"It's been set to detonate. Galen, if it goes off—"
—A tidal wave of roaring, devastating sea. Crashing against the shore, the rocks, flooding the dens. Selonians unable to escape: crushed, broken, drowned. The cities above in ruins…
His fist closed over his com-link and he swore colorfully. "I can use the Force to protect the dens." Maybe. "But I doubt I'll be able to stop it entirely." And then the other issue; "if the clone isn't on the ship, Juno, then where is he?"
Lesew's com-link had rolled out of reach, impossibly distant, but she stretched out for it anyway, her clawed fingers grasping in vain. Almost blinded with pain, she was barely aware of the boot heel that crushed the device into a hundred pieces. Barely aware of the shadow that had fallen over her. Her other hand pressed tightly over a deep, slashing wound in her stomach; smoking and cauterized.
And then there was a low laugh in the darkness and the fur on her neck bristled.
A cold hand touched the side of her face, soft at first and then suddenly painful; jerking her head up, twisting her spine.
Lesew had always prided herself on her courage and her strength. She had outmatched all other females in combat. She had risen to a position of respect and maintained it for many years. She had been proud and brave and certain in her strength. Yet, in no time at all, outsiders had invaded their world and shown her that she was weak. Incredibly weak. They had fought and fallen at the hands of machines and, now, to this Sith.
And this Sith…he smelt of blood and fury. He looked like…like the Jedi left back on the beach and she couldn't understand why.
Had the Jedi tricked them? Had she died for nothing? Would her den perish and her queen die?
The fight came back into her eyes, but the Sith must have seen it, because his grip on her jaw tightened and she heard the sharp crack of bone. Blood filled her mouth. She screamed – an act which turned out to be a mistake – as her broken jaw exploded in rippling agony. The sound of her cry echoed back to her again and again and again. The blood hit the floor with a steady, 'pat-pat'.
And then he was speaking soft and low to her, with the tone of a mother comforting its pup. The hand not gripping her broken face stroked soothingly along her neck, almost as if she were some poor, dying pet. She tried to move again and his cruel hand tightened, jerking her broken jaw again. Fresh blood seeped into her mouth and her breath gurgled loudly.
Then he moved away and she turned an eye to look at his form silhouetted against a gaping hole in the side of the ship. Rain hammered against the twisted durasteel and, for the first time, she felt the air's cold touch on her burning face. She yearned to move closer, to wet her fur, to taste it on the tip of her tongue. And, despite everything, she thought to herself, it was a good day to die.
The Sith spoke again and she saw the blaze of his golden eyes. And if she understood nothing else, she understood this much: there was madness there. This was not the same man she had met on the shore. Of that, she was certain.
With invisible hands, she was wrenched up from the floor, the very tips of her claws brushing against the metal grille. Thick blood dripped heavily from her mouth, though the sound of the heavy patter was masked by the rain outside.
He stalked towards her, a band of cruel, red light coming to life in his hand. He spoke again; low and mocking.
She did not react.
Nor did she react when he raised his crimson blade. Twice he feigned a strike for her neck. But when it did finally cut, she did not feel its bite.
And across the ship and down to the shore, the wave of his presence rippled through the Force.
To be continued...