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Chapter 3
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Part 3
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3 AIF (After Imperial Founding)/
14.08.2552 UNSC Military Calendar/
Coruscant
Corcusca Galaxy
These days, HK-117 was stuck doing odd jobs that seldom brought him the satisfaction of a good assassination or, even better, a pitched battle. Today, for example, he was stuck checking up on Master's underground contacts. Some of the leaders of Coruscant's criminal syndicates kept thinking they could return to being independent criminals, doing whatever they wanted for money and power.
That hadn't been the case since a few years in the Clone Wars, even if, by necessity, the off-hand treatment allowed certain parties to get ideas. HK-117 liked reminding that kind of meat-bags who was at the top of the food chain and that they were far from untouchable.
If they were good little criminals, they would get to ply their trade within reason. At the same time, the rebuilt Imperial Intelligence Services had little to worry about nasty surprises sneaking in using the underworld's extensive smuggling pipelines. Even a hint of something like that was a death sentence, and you didn't get the courtesy of a trial where a bought magistrate and a highly paid lawyer could get you off. Instead, a special forces team got to have a live fire exercise, or HK-117 got to have fun.
Today the fun wasn't as good as it could have been. The combat droid was merely to use his stealth functions to deliver particular messages to the bedrooms of a few people while passing through their not-insignificant security. With that bit of fun done, he was to report to the Mistress until she returned to Mandalore when he was to tag along.
Skulking around the lower levels of Coruscant meant that HK-117 nearly missed all the fun. Who would have thought that today someone would dare sneak a super-capital that had to be engineering proof that almost all meat-bags are crazy?
The combat droid moved like a ghost using his stealth fields to dampen sound and bend light. Built-in inertial dampeners, more expensive than a state-of-the-art fighter, allowed him to glide and avoid pressure sensors, among other things. Thus, the moment he became aware of the situation and made it to the surface, HK-117 dashed from cover to cover, seeking the luring songs of emergency beacons.
On his way to Republica 500, the combat droid recorded scenes of wanton slaughter, which his Master would disapprove of without an excellent reason. It was what madmen did to witlessly galvanize resistance and ensure the enemy would fight to the death, forcing you to spend excessive time and resources to neutralize the opposition. Do that enough times, and you could lose an otherwise winnable campaign or even war.
That was what HK-117 saw multiple species of unfamiliar aliens do across Coruscant's streets, bathing them in blood. Instead of focusing on critical targets or digging in, anticipating a vicious counter-attack, whole enemy units wasted their time and ammunition hunting down harmless civilian meat-bags. It was madness in its purest form.
As if that wasn't bad enough, the discipline was low across many enemy units. There was little cohesion between groups from different species, something the Imperial military, past and present, took an in-ordinary effort to deal with.
HK-117 jumped over an obstruction caused by the collapsed, half-molten facade of a stubby skyscraper, gliding soundlessly through smoke and heat haze. He saw the burned wreck and melted impressions of heavy infantry down the street, which an orbital strike had obviously hit. He had to disengage the stealth field and go on with shields blazing to avoid damage from the still-glowing molten metal.
The next street over, HK-117 went back into stealth while passing through the shattered remains of an enemy armored column. It was clear for all to see they had been caught in the open by air strikes without sufficient AA cover. His passive sensors could detect pockets of heavy combat or ongoing slaughter at multiple nearby locations. Despite that, the combat droids kept pursuing the beacons' signals. Soon, he got into a position to see Republica 500. It was obscured by a large melted pit in Coruscant's top levels, replacing what the closest under-rail station was. The beacons were between him and the burning building in the distance, so he headed that way.
As he got closer, the combat droid passed distinct fragments from drop pods. Here and there, he saw the bodies of Shock Troopers, surrounded by slaughtered invaders. Finally, HK-117 got to a position less than a kilometer from the beacons. He scaled the side of a mostly intact building to get a better look. He found an emergency exit for the underground transport system held by Shock Trooper fire teams. They exchanged sporadic fire with enemy snipers and blurry shapes under active stealth. HK-117 crept closer, trying to decide if it would be best to cull the opposition or race to meet the beacons and, more importantly, the VIPs they designated.
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under-rail evacuation route
Coruscant
Corcusca Galaxy
Three of the bastards stood between Anakin and his daughter. He could feel Leia's worry and fear in the distance, but at least she appeared safe so far. This simply wouldn't do. He smiled at the aliens while his arm moved, guided by the Force deflecting their shots. There were no children out of armor to worry about hurting now. He drank deeply of the tainted well that was the Dark Side. His focus sharpened as he bent the Force to his will and used it to enhance his body beyond what should be humanly possible. Cold fire spread through his veins as his mind raced, giving the perception of the world slowing down around him.
Anakin let out a furious scream, putting in it all the primal anger at the beasts' daring to endanger his little girl. The Dark Side responded with glee, and the air before him rippled in a wide area sonic attack. He sprinted forward, watching in delight how the aliens staggered back. It was the easiest thing to stretch his will through the Force and grab the one to the left, then use it as a club to smash the other two. By the time he was upon them, the golden-armored reptiles had struggled to get up, barking in alien tongues.
The former Jedi didn't let go of the beast he held and, instead, used all his might to smash it into the ceiling before slamming it into the stairs with enough force to bend them. Bones shattered, armor cracked, and blood spilled from split jaws. A second obstacle died with a blue lightsaber burning through its shields and piercing through open jaws into the brain, turning it into boiling soup.
Only the last mad creature managed to get up and desperately parry a killing blow. Anakin didn't let it recover its stance properly and struck at it with a flurry of blows using all his Force-enhanced strength. The strange alien blade held under the onslaught, though the same couldn't be said for the hand holding it. After the third rapid strike, Anakin forced the reptilian creature's hand across its chest. His prosthetic arm shot forward and caught its wrist, holding it in place. After that, it was simple to slide his lightsaber over the edge of the yellow energy blade and somewhat slowly push it between the alien's split jaws. He relished the sheer shock and fear the thing experienced at being bested and in the last moments when it realized it was already dead.
Anakin took a moment to feel the situation before racing forward. The rearguard would soon catch up. They were busy engaging the wounded armored beast behind. There was still fighting up at the junction, and enemy reinforcements kept trickling through the breach in the wall. Anakin had to either risk being caught between two enemy forces in a crossfire, or hold the breach, while the rearguard caught up with him. Suppose he had enough time without being shot at. In that case, he might have considered bringing the ceiling down and collapsing the makeshift entrance. However, he doubted the enemy would give him such a chance.
Meanwhile, Leia's presence kept getting farther and farther. The Imperial Knight grasped his surging fury and used it to fuel more Sith lighting, which he used to fry the next group of aliens who dared try to enter the stairway. Their dying screeches were music to his ears.
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As soon as smoke properly concealed her, Bo-Katan dropped to the ground, avoiding most of the incoming fire. She could hear the aliens racing her way, determined to finish her in close combat. They were large creatures, undoubtedly powerfully built. They were no strangers to close combat.
That was all right with her. A mnemonic command released all remaining governors of her implants. Combat drugs flooded her system, followed by small amounts of Bacta that her armor injected into her flesh and blood muscles. The Mandalorian was going to need it because she was about to push them to their limits.
Bo-Katan's fingers twitched as soon as hyper-adrenals flooded her system. She pulled a combat knife – an old-fashioned mono-molecular blade that wouldn't become mainly useless to you if you got caught by an Ionic strike, and crouched, ready to spring into action. Another command had her HUD switch vision modes, using sound and motion sensors to track the incoming aliens. Blurry outlines moved into the smoke, and she struck like a coiled snake.
The blade, a single molecule thick, flew forward with all the strength and weight of Bo-Katan, her implants, and her armor. The closest enemy instinctively raised a hand only for its shield to shatter and armor to prove insufficient in front of the impact. Flesh and bone proved no more obstacle, and the bipedal reptile fell back, screeching and holding the stump of its arm.
Wild shots and fists encased in metal flailed through the smoke. Bo-Katan weaved under a wild punch, grabbed the wrists as it flew by in what appeared to be slow motion, and shoved it to the left and back. The alien stumbled forward, exposing its hunched neck and back. The blade
flashed down, slicing through armor and biting deeply into the thick muscle.
One down for the count, one crippled.
A plasma shot hit Bo-Katan in the back, splashing over her shields. The resulting glow revealed her position, and she ducked into a crouch, doing her best to rotate in place on the stairs without losing her footing. A green ball of plasma passed in front of her visor, which polarized in time to protect her sight. The Mandalorian grinned at this. If it wasn't for her niece being caught in the middle of the attack, she might consider all this good fun. That and all the poor bastards who got caught outside during the onslaught…
Those useless thoughts flashed through Bo-Katan's mind in time she finished turning in place, replaced by the liberating clarity of battle. An enormous alien in pitch-black armor towered above her. It pointed a pistol at her face and pressed the trigger when the Mandalorian jumped at him. Plasma broke over the deflector above her visor, momentarily blinding her. That didn't matter. She acted on years of training, letting long-suffered for reflexes and training guide her movements. Her left arm went up, offering protection, while her right hand sliced and diced with the knife, adding as much power behind every move as she could without sacrificing speed.
The reptile fell back, screeching and showering blood all over the stairway. Bo-Katan moved to finish it off when another alien came through the smoke. Her HUD barely gave her a moment of warning before the larger warrior tackled her to the ground, bringing them hard on the stairs. It wasted no time and began punching her using an armored fist and the butt of a plasma pistol. Without the strength enhancements provided by her armor and implants, not to mention the adrenals pushing her muscles to the breaking point, Bo-Katan would have been fucked at that point. It didn't matter how well you were trained if a larger combatant could tackle you in place and keep hitting you.
Despite the awkward angle and the apparent weight of the creature, the Mandalorian woman managed to leverage her artificially increased strength and shove it off to the side. She had lost her grip on the blade when they hit the ground and instead made a punching motion, twisting her wrist down. A short blade sprung from her vambrace just below the housing of the micro-missiles. It was mono-molecular as well and managed to punch through the chest armor of the alien. She wasted no time and scampered over, hitting it repeatedly until she could strike its neck and face. Within moments it ceased struggling and went stiff in dead.
With that target serviced, Bo-Katan scampered upward, eager to displace. There was supposed to be at least one intact enemy and a pair of wounded but combat capable. A burst of blue plasma hit the corpse she climbed, then ran up the Mandalorian's back, burning through her shields and splashing over her invaluable Bescar armor, heating it.
Finally, she could barely perceive the last enemy. Bo-Katan grinned at pointed her left hand at it, then activated the small flamethrower built below the shield. A jet of liquid, sticky fire shot through, funneling and dispersing the remaining smoke. The energy shields of the aliens were no barrier to the flames. Within moments, two burning figures flailed around, screeching bloody murder.
The last alien had its back to the wall and stared at the carnage with eyes wide open. It held the tattered remains of a mangled arm, doing little to stop the rapid blood loss. Bo-Katan's head snapped around, accounting for all the aliens she knew for sure came at her.
Two were burning torches. One was bleeding away with its neck cut almost in half, another was dead on the floor, and the last was obviously in its species' version of shock. It kept muttering the same word again and again. Bo-Katan glanced down towards the junction, where survivors of the Imperial Guard still held the line. She drew her blaster pistol and shot the last alien in the head until it died, then sprinted up the stairs.
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Part 4
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3 AIF (After Imperial Founding)/
14.08.2552 UNSC Military Calendar/
Coruscant
Corcusca Galaxy
A shift in the battle net made up HK-117's mind as he approached the entrance to the under-rail. The VIPs were about to emerge within two to three minutes, with the enemy likely to be hot on their heels. They needed a secure extraction zone. Imperial Knight led strike teams were in the way, four minutes out.
The combat droid didn't need to glance up to see what was happening with the enemy ship above. A constant crescendo of explosions shook the skies. Fighters and bombers swarmed the enemy mothership like furious insects, leaving blossoming explosions in their wake. Still intact weapon emplacement lased desperately at the onslaught and stray fire lit up districts of Coruscant on fire and took away chunks of massive buildings.
A Headhunter light scout flew suicidally low dropping sensor probes which immediately went active, sending pulses of multi-spectral energy to wash over the street.
Multiple battle coordinators guided the battle above, redirecting squadrons to lock down the airspace above the extraction zone. More orders flowed, focusing the bombers and Mobile Armor to focus on the starboard side and under the hostile ship, in order to eliminate the danger of capital ship fire to the VIP extraction.
HK-117 dashed towards the closest building he could detect incoming sniper fire from. His plan was simple – neutralize the meat-bags, seize their long-ranged weaponry and if feasible use it to kill more meat-bags. If not, he would have a good vantage point to guide air strikes on more meat-bags, so it was a win-win proposition. He ran over the roof of a low parking lot and vaulted over the edge, gliding for over a hundred meters before coming to a silent landing on a street covered in bodies and debris. The droids landed silently and sprang forward in a sprint until he was below the space-scraper he needed. Wasting no time, HK-117 began scaling its ravaged exterior, using magnetic clamps. It took him nearly two minuted to get up to just below the enemy position.
The battle net was insistent, the VIPs were above to emerge. The status of an Imperial Guard detachment executing a holding action was currently unknown. Hostile forces might be in pursuit. A glance showed that nearly half the Shock Troopers holding the entrance pulled back inside, while the rest deployed smoke grenades obscuring the area. Bombers screamed overhead, flying dangerously low between the buildings and opened fire with laser cannons, igniting the part of the street where enemy meat-bags were confirmed to be.
HK-117 pulled himself over the edge to the side of a sniper nest. Two aliens vaguely resembling a cross between a lizard and a hound acted as a sniper and a spotter, while a few more of their kind milled around in a destroyed office space, poking at various devices and yapping at each other.
A vibro blade extended from under the combat droid's left hand. He plunged it at the base of the skull of the closest alien, then twisted and pulled killing it and dragging the body to use as a shield. At the same time, he pulled a heavy blaster pistol from its magnetic harness, and shot the spotter in the head. Surprisingly enough, these things lacked personal shields and the blaster bolt vaporized the reptilian head, sending the hair-like growth on top of it flying.
The other aliens screamed in surprise. To give credit to the meat-bags, they had surprisingly fast reflexes. HK-117 managed to shoot only one of them before they scattered going for cover, or deployed their tall, ellipsoid energy shields, similar to what the Gungans used to favor.
The combat droid shut down its stealth systems and inertial dampeners, redirecting the energy to his own shield. He used the sniper's corpse to intercept a few plasma shots, while lining up shots of his own. While the shields the meat-bags had were quite large, they did need to show up their weapon-grasping hands to fire. At this range, HK-117 would have had to try very hard to miss. Shot after shot resulted in a blown up plasma pistol and a lost hand. Half the enemy was thus disabled, when the combat droid threw the burning corpse at a fourth and drew his second pistol. Rapid fire heavy blaster bolts could overwhelm the shields in short order, and precise shots took care for anyone who dared try and shoot back. Still, taking them out was taking a bit too long for HK-117's tastes. He opened up a compartment at his right shoulder, extending a portable flamethrower. As it turned out, these energy shields weren't so great when you could swing a stream of liquid fire over their edge and land ensure it could splash all over their wielders. The meat-bags lacked proper sealed armor, and the results were delicious agonized screams.
The last remaining meat-bag decided it had enough and tried to run, using a bunch of desks as cover. HK-117 opened the compartment near his other shoulder, and a pair of small missiles pocked out. He launched one, guiding it unerringly to the meat-bag's back, splattering it all over the blown up office door.
With the position secure, HK-117 turned around, and picked up the alien sniper rifle. It didn't look half bad, though the ergonomics weren't ideal for humanoids. Perhaps they were good enough for lizard-dog hybrid meat-bags?
In the time HK-117 neutralized the enemy squad, bomber strafing runs had turned the left side of the street below into an inferno, ensuring there would be no interference from that corner. Clouds of smoke obscured the entrance to the under-rail, while two more sniper nests shot blindly in it. A Y-Wing flew by, unleashing a proton torpedo at a distant building. The resulting explosion shattered what little was left of it's facade and silenced one of the snipers. HK-117, aimed through the alien scope, noting unfamiliar script shift as he targeted another lizard-like meat-bag. He squeezed the trigger and a golden beam of energy burned a hole between the eyes of the target. Not bad, though very visible. There was a reason why nowadays, Imperial snipers favored slugthrwowers, preferably railguns. Unlike blasters, or even disruptors, slugs didn't immediately reveal your precise position the moment you took a shot.
HK-117 lined up another shot and took out the spotter meat-bag as it tried to run to safety. He managed to service two more of their supporting squad before they retreated out of sight.
Torrent fighters screamed over the street, followed by rapidly descending LAATs. The wake of the rapid moving vehicles dispersed the smoke, allowing HK-117 to see a few Imperial Guard in their distinct heavy power armor, the Mistress, and the VIPs surrounded by Shock Troopers. LAATs soon landed, forming a protective circle around them, and disgorged Imperial Knights and their strike teams.
No one wasted any time and the VIPs boarded a LAAT, and flew away. Within moments, fighter squadrons descended, forming a thick ring around them, presumably ready to physically intercept incoming fire if it was what it took.
With the VIPs secure, or as secure as they could get under the circumstances, HK-117 shifted directives. It was time to find and capture high value enemy meat-bags, and if that wasn't possible, kill as many of them as he could.