The following morning
Rising at dawn, the Mandalorians went straight to work training the rebels. Most of them were farmers and nerf herders from the plains north of the jungles, and were accustomed to demanding physical labor. That, and the fact that their society placed great importance on matters related to warfare, made Karel cautiously optimistic about their mission.
After much hesitation by the rebels, and with some persuading by Hamar, they managed to convince them to modify their tactics. Instead of fighting the droids in a full-scale war, they would have to switch to guerrilla tactics. Small groups of rebels on foot would ambush the droid patrols that ventured too deep into the jungles, and would perform acts of sabotage on crucial targets such as convoys and poorly defended outposts.
Karel scanned the crowd of Mikkians as they gathered in front of him and his father for their first lesson of the day. To his right stood Arathor and Veria, both with their arms crossed but the latter with thinly-veiled boredom as Hamar introduced himself to the rebels. His voice was as commanding as it was captivating, and he stood at ease with his hands behind his back.
"I am Lieutenant Colonel Jansek, 8th Commando Battalion, Special Operations Brigade. This," he pointed at Karel to his right, who moved to stand next to his father, "is Master Chief Jansek, Fang Company, 8th Commando Battalion. Our mission is to train and equip you to fight against the Separatist forces that currently occupy this world and, if possible, liberate it. To be clear we are not here to fight this battle for you, but to show you the best way to fight it." He turned at Karel and said, "Master Chief, why don't you give our recruits a demonstration of some of the equipment they will be using?"
Karel rolled his eyes behind his helmet at his father's use of his rank, but said nothing of it as he walked up to a table with Republic weapons on the right and Separatist weapons on the left. He took a blaster, then held it up in front of himself.
"This is the DC-15A blaster carbine, also known as the DC-15S. It is capable of generating up to 500 shots using a single tibanna gas cartridge and each power pack lasts 50 shots. It's small, reliable, and has a high rate of fire; perfect for use in ambushes and guerrilla warfare. The shots of this weapon are hyper-ionized and will fry any electronics they hit, making it ideal against droids. But that doesn't mean it won't kill organics. As a matter of fact, one shot from this blaster is more than enough to put a hole through your chest and end you right then and there."
He turned to his left and adopted a kneeling position, taking aim at a small rock about 30 meters away. Removing the safety and holding his breath, Karel fired three shots in quick succession and they all found their target. He put the safety back on and stood up, going back to the table. He removed the power pack from the side of the blaster and inspected the weapon to make sure it wouldn't fire accidentally. He knew he had unloaded it correctly, but he was well aware that one should never get complacent when dealing with anything capable of killing another being, so he cleaned all of his weapons regularly, keeping them as pristine as if they just came out of the factory were it not for the countless modifications he had done to them, and throughout the day he constantly checked they had the safety on, both things that his father took great effort in teaching him early during his training. He left the blaster carbine on the table, then picked up an E-5 blaster rifle.
"Now, you won't always be able to choose your armament, and sometimes you'll have to make use with the equipment the enemy leaves behind. The E-5 is the standard-issue blaster for the droids. With that in mind, this weapon will heat up faster that most, so watch out for overheating or you'll be out of the fight before you know it."
His demonstration finished, Karel left the other blaster on the table as well. Hamar stepped forward and yelled, "Form up! We'll begin with target practice."
**********
As the first day of training came to an end and the sun started setting on Mikkia, Karel and Hamar evaluated the fighting capabilities of the rebels to decide how to proceed. Before that, however, the rebels still had to learn several important aspects of warfare and military science, and had to be properly organized into an actual fighting force capable of defeating the Separatist war machine.
"Battle droids have strength in numbers, and you can't match them on that. Taking down one clanker doesn't seem so hard, but taking down a hundred is an entirely different story. But numbers aren't everything, and there are other ways to turn the fight in your favor," Karel explained to the rebels in front of him as he stood between them and an assortment of captured battle droids.
To his right were two B1 battle droids and to his left a DSD1 spider droid, and Karel could barely stop himself from turning them into scrap metal as he has been trained to do. He breathed quietly to calm himself and tapped a few buttons on his left gauntlet. An Imagecaster at his feet activated and he continued with his speech.
Hamar watched from the sidelines as Karel explained some of the factors the Mikkians could use as force multipliers in their fight against the Separatists. He smiled proudly under his helmet, and didn't notice Arathor walking up to him and standing at his right.
"He's a good soldier," said Arathor.
Hamar immediately straigtened himself after being caught off guard, but quickly composed himself and replied, "He is."
"So what's your story, Mandalorian, of both of you?"
"It's classified," Hamar replied instantly. He took a moment to consider what he would say, then asked. "What's yours?"
"Pretty boring I guess." Arathor crossed his arms and shrugged. "But let's just say I'm a man trying to protect his home. And I have a feeling that you were the same thing at one point."
A mischievous glint in Arathor's crimson eyes is all Hamar needed to know he had to pick his next words carefully.
"What makes you say that?" he asked as calmly as he could.
A call came from one of the tents, the kitchen tent, and everyone dropped what they were doing to rush for dinner.
Arathor laughed to himself, then flashed Hamar a smile and replied, "Saved by the bell. Come on, I for one I'm starving." He turned to head in the direction of the kitchen tent, but stopped and turned at Hamar. "Are you coming?"
Hamar looked back at Karel, who was focused on analyzing the droids' tactics shown on the hologram after everyone else has left, and for a moment Hamar felt like he was looking at his younger self. When the Great Clan Wars began he was just a couple years older than Karel now was, and there were times he felt his son was more of a warrior than he was. He dared not say this to anyone, not even to Karel, but at times he felt like a failure; a lesser son of greater fathers. He was supposed to protect his family, protect Karel, not throw him into danger. He had seen so many horrors in his short life, had already lost part of himself that he'll never get back.
And yet he still followed him everywhere they went, always by his side, never blaming him for anything that had happened to him. From before he could walk to now that he was almost as tall as himself, Karel always stayed true to his teachings, yet he was his own person. He was strong, smart and brave, all qualities of a great leader.
And with that knowledge, Hamar managed to put his worries to rest and followed the Mikkian.
**********
Having been served his portion of nerf stew, Karel looked for a place to eat in peace. Most of the rebels had returned to their tents to eat with their friends, while Hamar had gone with Arathor. Karel considered joining them for a moment, but ultimately decided against it. As he walked to his tent he spotted Veria sitting on a log near the shooting range while gazing at the stars. Karel approached her cautiously from behind, trying to get as close as possible to her without her noticing him.
"I guess stealth is not your area of expertise," she said out loud without turning.
"Yeah, I guess not," Karel replied with a smirk.
Veria scooted over so Karel could sit next to her. He walked up to her and sat on her right, but still keeping some distance between them so as not to make her uncomfortable.
"Then what is?" she asked, still not looking directly at him.
"What is what?" he asked back incredulously as he removed his helmet, leaving it next to him on his right and sipping from his bowl of stew.
She rolled her eyes and huffed, then said, "Your field, what is it?"
He thought for a moment and wasn't sure he had the answer she wanted. He had been trained in practically every aspect of warfare there was, and of course there were some areas which he preferred over others, but the idea of defining himself by one singular skill set never sat right with him. For him it was best to be prepared for whatever situation you might find yourself into, instead of being prepared for only one specific situation.
"Special operations," he half-guessed after a moment, which was technically true, from a certain point of view. "And yours? You didn't seem very excited about training today."
"I don't need to train, I'm the best scout in this entire camp," she replied confidently, and would have crossed her arms had it not been for the bowl of nerf stew on her hands.
"Good scouts don't get caught," Karel muttered as he was about to sip his nerf stew again. He didn't understand how he was speaking to her so effortlessly, almost as if they had known each other for a long time when in reality it had been less than a day since that chase across the jungle.
She huffed and bumped her shoulder against his and he bumped hers, after which they both laughed for a moment before a comfortable silence fell between them.
"What is it like out there?" Veria asked while her gaze was focused on the stars.
"Out there?" he echoed.
"In the galaxy. I've lived on this planet my whole life, I guess you must have seen some exciting things out there."
He remained quiet, reflecting on all the death and destruction he had seen already. The memories he had kept to himself threatened to break free like a creature of darkness that had been locked away years ago.
"A few things," he replied bitterly after a moment.
He picked up his helmet and put it on in an instant, not caring how terrible of a job he was doing at pretending to be fine. Veria scowled at his behavior, the blue tips of her head-tendrils now appearing like a halo around her head as she leaned closer towards him.
His left gauntlet chimed off, interrupting them, and the control panel read of an incoming transmission from his father. Karel stood up and turned away from Veria, activating his helmet's comlink via his HUD using his gaze.
"What is it?" he asked as soon as the call started.
"Come to command post immediately, we have to talk about something," Hamar ordered, leaving no room for negotiations.
Karel had no time to ask what was the problem before the transmission ended. He glanced at Veria and said, "Sorry, I have to go."
"I'm coming with you," she stated as she stood up and followed him as he headed for the command post.
He halted in his tracks and turned at her. His helmeted head looked down as his visor met her eyes.
"I didn't say you could come with me," he said harshly.
"And I don't care about that," she replied with a smug grin, then simply walked past him.
He turned back to the command post and, smirking under his helmet at how amusing and frustrating her reply was, walked up past her. He entered the command post first just in case with his right hand on his blaster ready to draw at a moment's notice. He dropped his hand to the side, however, as Arathor and Hamar turned to meet them, as did a holographic projection of Commander Tamm, all three surrounding the holotable.
"I couldn't shake her off," said Karel, noticing the looks he was getting as Veria moved to stand next to Arathor.
"Get used to it," Arathor remarked with a smirk.
Karel moved to stand next to his father opposite of Veria, who rolled her eyes in response to her uncle's comment, but Karel noticed how her head-tendrils waved more calmly than before and her cheeks had flushed, though he dismissed the latter as an effect of the humidity of the air in the jungles.
"Can we start now?" asked Commander Tamm, her exasperation evident by the way she squared her shoulders and straightened herself to her full height.
"Of course," Arathor replied apologetically, then pressed some buttons on the controls of the holotable.
"One of our spies in the capital just sent us this recording," said the commander.
A hologram appeared depicting a tall, slim, green-skinned and green-eyed Koorivar male standing in front of a mansion while dressed in ornate orange robes, as well as a large spiraling horn that protruded from the top of his head, and close behind and to his left stood a TC-series protocol droid with gold-colored plating. Further behind them stood another dozen Koorivar, all clad in red armor and black combat boots and equipped with some model of blaster rifle. In front of all the Koorivar were a set of stairs, at the base of which stood a large crowd of Mikkians of various ages and skin colors. The orange-robed Koorivar began speaking to the crowd at his feet, while columns of B1 and B2 battle droids and snail tanks appeared from both sides of the mansion and stopped behind the Koorivar as he enthusiastically spoke to the crowd.
"People of Mikkia. I am Urodan Quontera, and I stand before you with news that the corrupt Republic that once occupied this planet has fled, crushed by the might of our droid armies! Now, Mikkia shall not fear the tyranny of the Republic anymore, for this planet has been liberated, and is now under the protection of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Until this war comes to an end I will serve as your Governor, and ensure that the interests of the people of this planet are met as part of the Confederacy. Count Dooku will guide us to a better future under the banner of the Confederacy! The Jedi, supposed defenders of the peace, have now shown their true colors by declaring war on those who refused to serve them, but no more shall we fear them! Even though the Republic has abandoned this planet, traitors remain among us, and they must be brought to justice for the crimes they have committed. If you are aware of any suspicious activity do not doubt in reporting it, as these terrorists have shown their willingness to take the lives of civilians and will no doubt strike again like the cowards they are."
Throughout the transmission both Arathor and Veria's expressions went from shock to outright rage, and as the Koorivar finished speaking Arathor seemed about ready to crush the holotable with his bare hands. He fixed his gaze on Commander Tamm's hologram, his crimson eyes and head-tendrils making him resemble what in some cultures would be considered a demon.
"Separatist scum, we do not attack civilians!" he exclaimed indignated. "Who is this coward that speaks lies of my people?!"
The hologram paused, zooming on Qountera's holographic figure as his file appeared next to him.
"Urodan Quontera, he has an extensive record in service to the Corporate Alliance," said Commander Tamm in an even voice, hoping to placate the Mikkian. "He has spent the better part of the last twenty years in various administrative positions within the Corporate Alliance until he reached the position of Special Markets Director."
"How did he go from administrator to Governor?" Karel asked, unfamiliar with the inner workings of corporations and the world of politics.
"The Quontera family owns and operates Quontera Shipping, the second largest company within the Corporate Alliance, and holds several high-ranking positions within it including a seat in its executive board. It is most likely that they were able to use their influences to obtain this position for one of their own. The Koorivar are known as a shrewd species that is focused solely on business and the accumulation and display of wealth."
"Whoever his family is they're not taking any chances, the hut'uun has a squad of Koorivar Fusiliers guarding him," Hamar noted, referring to the red-armored warriors.
"Who?" Arathor and Veria asked at the same time.
"Koorivar soldiers in service to the Corporate Alliance, they are often seen guarding Alliance assets and escorting officers. They are said to be the best organic soldiers in service to the Corporate Alliance."
"That's not saying much," Karel mumbled.
Commander Tamm turned to face both Mandalorians and asked, "Colonel, Master Chief, what is your assessment of the situation?"
"The rebels are well-organized and have agreed to cooperate and modify their tactics as needed, but they still lack the support of the civilian population. The people are scared. Without their support this battle is unlikely to end in favor of the Republic," Hamar replied.
"And what would they have to be afraid of? The droids? Us?" Arathor asked in disbelief. He simply couldn't understand why his people were not fighting back.
"They're afraid you're not strong enough to win," Karel stated bluntly. "You have to strike decisively at the enemy somewhere they don't expect it and that they won't be able to recover from. That will send a message to your people and show them what you're fighting for."
"Precisely. Disrupting the enemy's supply lines and logistics will remain our priority, but we have to think of other targets we can attack that will boost morale and support for your cause if destroyed," Hamar added.
The two Mikkians stayed quiet as they tried to come up with a suitable target, but they couldn't think of anything of the sort. Most settlements on Mikkia were villages and towns with no more than a few thousand people. The largest spaceport on the planet was located in the capital of Sodra on the southern hemishpere, a city with less than a quarter of a million inhabitants, small even by Outer Rim standards.
"I may have the target you are looking for," Commander Tamm said, and the others in the room turned to hear what she had to say. "We've intercepted Separatist transmissions regarding large military convoys transporting prisoners and supplies to the capital within the following weeks. If you can intercept some of these transports, the local populace may start supporting you."
"They'll want to get to the capital as fast as possible to minimize the risk. What route would they have to take?" Hamar asked the Mikkians in front of him.
"The only road that goes through the jungle is the Hertalian Road. They'll be sittings ducks there," Arathor replied with a smirk.
"This is clearly a trap," said Karel, thinking out loud.
"I'd be surprised if it weren't, but right now it's our only choice," Hamar replied. He and Karel looked at Arathor and Veria, who nodded their agreement with him.
"Very well," the commander said, pleased with the decision. "I will focus our assets on acquiring the details of the next transport. I will contact you as soon as I have more information of your interest. Good luck."
Her presence no longer needed, Commander Tamm left the holo-meeting.
Hamar looked at the Mikkians again and said, "I want scouting parties to identify the best sites for an ambush. We must use the terrain to our advantage, so look for places where we can get control of the high ground and trap the enemy."
"We should have that finished by sunset tomorrow," was Arathor's reply.
Arathor and Veria left as well, the former to inform his people of their next course of action and the latter to depart on another scouting mission. As Hamar looked down he reactivated the holotable and maps appeared showing the local topography when Karel spoke up.
"You do know this is a trap?" he asked, flatly.
Hamar replied with another question for him, "Do you have a better idea?"
"For starters don't walk into a trap," Karel replied sarcastically.
"These people don't have the luxury of time, Karel," Hamar shot back, turning to his son and meeting his visor with his own.
The two Mandalorians stood almost at the same height, with Hamar being taller by no more than an inch. Their armors were very similar as well, both grey and green with slightly lighter grey flight suits and brown leather belts. Both wielded two WESTAR-35 blasters each but Hamar also had a one-handed axe that he kept sheathed slightly below and in front of his right blaster and Karel had a knife of some sort sheathed horizontally on the back of his belt with the grip to the left. Their helmets were almost identical too, save for Karel's being decorated with the jaig eyes and the fangs on his cheeks.
"And what if they fail?"
"They won't, and you'll make sure of that. I want you to plan and lead this mission."
"Me?" Karel asked in astonishment, thinking his helmet's sound amplification systems were acting up.
"Yes. I suggest you get to work."
Hamar turned and left as well, and Karel could practically feel how much he was trying to keep a straight face even if he was wearing his helmet. Once Karel was left alone he leaned against the holotable, then breathed a sigh of exhaustion as he brought a hand to his helmet's forehead.
"I have a bad feeling about this."