Intermission 3 - Black Squadron
Captain Mithel could still hear the sounds of battle in the distance. At the very edge of his perception, the hum of the Emperor's lightsaber and the distinctive ping as he reflected the shots back where they came from could still be discerned. But that wasn't Black Squadron's concern at the moment. Mithel's only job, leading the team around to every side entrance and escape vector, required his full attention and he wasn't about to disappoint his superior. He'd seen where that road lead.
"Form up," he ordered. Blueprints say we're looking for three doors. The Grand Inquisitor has the other side, so we need to clamp down on any attempts at escape. Lord Vader wants them dead or captured."
They sprinted from cover to cover, sporadically trading fire against the occasional straggler or coward too far from their allies to mount effective resistance. Beyond that, it was a straightforward assignment. Whoever the enemy may be, they weren't soldiers. Half of them still looked surprised every time their blasters fired. And, though Black Squadron's connection to the Force was minimal at best, they still felt nothing that might indicate the presence of a Jedi.
The Dark Side was another story. Mithel and the others had a vague feeling of the Inquisitor's presence in the area. Not enough to be precise, of course, but it was there. A vague sensation that allowed them to grasp the rough direction of their allies. Of course, they'd learned that any decent Force user would hide themselves to a certain extent outside of battle. If there was a Jedi leading the enemy, they either weren't doing anything or Mithel lacked the skill to sense it.
Then there was Darth Vader. The team knew Vader could get angry. They'd felt that more than once.
This was different. No tension in his voice. No violence, no threats, no promises of retribution. And that was all the more unsettling. Because the rage was pouring of the Emperor in waves.
"Glad we're away from the boss," Ada said.
Neel agreed and added, "Felt like I might lose my lunch, I was so nervous."
"Zip it," Rashon ordered.
Mithel raised a hand and then pointed ahead. By the first door, a single man, kid really, stood guard. "I'm on it," Makraven offered and crouched low. Pushing off, he sprinted across the open ground between their cover, a pallet of raw materials, and made it most of the way before the youth even looked up and saw the black armored Trooper. The kid tried to raise his pistol but fumbled and practically flung the weapon. Makraven skidded to a halt and caught the blaster. Raising his own DC-15 with one hand, he took the kid down with a stun shot that sent the fool to the ground faster than a pod racer without engines.
Peeking out of their cover, the others quickly realized that Vader was pulling everyone his way, leaving them free to move.
"This is sad, honestly. Remember those 'Hand of the Emperor' clones? At least those freaks could fight," Makraven lamented.
"Don't knock it," the former merc, Rosh advised. "Enjoy the occasional easy job. We get paid no matter how good or bad these schmucks fight."
"Quit the chatter," Mithel ordered. "Two of you stay, everyone else with me." Moving on with a team of six, Black continued. In short order they'd cleared the rest of the doors, each only guarded by a single enemy.
"The hell kinda shoe-string uprising is this?" Rashon complained. "Only one of these idiots even had a comm!" Thus far, they'd managed to take down every guard without issue. Leaving the incredulous Rashon and Ada to mind the last door, Mithel took Neel inside. The two man team melted into the shadows, their matte armor blending in and allowing a measure of camouflage in the deeper shadows of the assembly floor. Unlike the regular Storm Troopers and even Vader himself, the faces of the Empire, Black Squadron didn't need to gleam and shine or reflecting every stray beam of light.
On the far side of the building, Mithel spied a flash of red followed by the death rattle of a fallen foe. No doubt the Inquisitors making short work of their own prey.
They both froze when the heard the sound of metal rending somewhere up above them and soon found the source. The office and observation room above the plant floor was slowly crumpling. It didn't take a Jedi Master to feel Vader's presence as the sensation of lives within winked out like dying candles.
"Uh, Cap?" Neel said nervously.
Mithel looked back in time to see one of the rebels, and he kicked himself for not paying attention to his surroundings, held a small grenade, which he activated. The last conscious thought Black Squadron's leader had was a silent prayer of thanks, recognizing that it wasn't a thermal detonator.
###
"That doesn't look good," Mithel said.
"Wake up, Captain!" Neel shouted and took a few shots, eliminating one enemy while a half-dozen more took cover behind various machines and supplies. "Black, this is Neel. Captain is down, requesting back up and possible med evac." He'd already dragged his leader behind a row of steel ready to be milled into barrels, now he was trading blind fire trying to keep any rebels from taking the obvious choice of storming the position and finishing the two off. Fortunately, Black Squadron wore cutting edge armor. These rebels, or terrorist, or whatever they were had little more than heavy leather jackets. It was enough to hold them at bay for the moment, but sooner or later they'd realize their best hope of escape was a sacrificial charge. Either that or they'd face Vader when he inevitably turned his attention towards them.
"What happened to that lake bed?" Mithel said, stirring.
"Captain?" Neel asked, peeking out of cover to fire a few bolts.
"Dry lake bed, some sort of… thing coming out of the cloud bank. I think, at least." Mithel shook his head, clearing the cobwebs and felt for his heavy blaster pistol. He'd dropped his DC-15 carbine and kicked himself for not securing the sling over his shoulder. "Status?" he asked.
"They've amassed on this side and blocked our path to the exit," Neel said. "You were only out for a minute or two, but they've got a logjam by the doors and the others can't clear 'em out."
"Keying into the tactical comms, Mithel said, "Lord Vader, permission to use breaching charges?"
Kshhhhhh
"Denied. I want these traitors alive," and Lord Vader cut the link.
"So much for that. Alright. Everyone, this is Mithel. Tighten the noose. We're doing this the hard way."